by Ward, Alice
I didn’t say a word, because God knows I could have come up with at least a dozen different scenarios—lighting fixtures falling on my head and killing me instantly, slipping just outside the curtain and falling on my ass... yep, at least a dozen.
I wasn’t left to my overactive imagination too long though because Jace was already out of the truck and tugging on my hand. “I’ll be right beside you the whole time,” he said, wrapping his arms around me as soon as my feet hit the ground.
“What about when you’re performing?” I asked, leaning my forehead against his.
“You’ll be with Becca, and it’s only a ten minute bit.”
My head shot back in shock. “Ten minutes?”
“Battle of the Bands,” he said, nodding. “Big recognition ordeal, and a cash prize. If we win, it’s that much more we have for getting to Seattle.”
“Come on, slowpokes!” Becca shouted, already a good distance from the truck. “I want to get in there and grab a drink before all the crazies get here.”
I lifted my brows in question at Jace. “Crazies?”
“Yeah, these events have some... fanatics,” he said with a shrug, opening the back door of his truck to grab his guitar. “They follow the bands around everywhere they go. But they’re not your average groupies. These folks will rip your shirt right off your back, along with about a pound of flesh, if you let them get to close.”
My hand went to my pounding heart. “God.”
“Yeah, that’s why security is really amped up at these things,” he said, taking my hand with his free one. “They’ll escort us backstage so no one gets hurt. And, like Becca said, if we hurry, we’ll beat at least a good share of them in there since the music doesn’t start for at least a couple of hours.”
Once backstage, Becca and I were formally introduced to the rest of the band. Becca wasn’t happy that the drummer had brought a guest of his own—a bleach blonde girl with legs that went up to my chin—but she quickly decided that the bass drummer would do her just fine. She stayed behind and flirted with him while Jace showed me around to some of the other bands, many of which he’d met while playing at other gigs.
Everyone he’d introduced me to had been nice, but they’d also stared at me like they’d never seen a girl before. “What was with all that?” I asked as we headed toward a little corner by all the sound equipment. “They were all eyeing me like... “
“Like they’d never seen me with a girl backstage before,” Jace said, finishing for me.
I shook my head in equal parts shock and confusion. “Really?” I asked, not even paying attention to where we were going.
“Really.”
“Why is that?”
Jace stopped near a wall, just between a large set of speakers, and then turned to face me. “I’m not my dad,” he said, deadpanning me.
“You really do have a thing with the whole cheating thing, don’t you?” I half mumbled to myself.
“What?”
“Oh, something Becca said, that you had an issue with cheating.” I avoided his eyes, feeling guilty for having talked about him and his issues when he wasn’t around.
Jace brought a hand to my chin and then pulled my eyes back to his. “It’s not just cheating,” he said, his voice soft and low. “I have an issue with dating, relationships, women.”
“What? Why?”
“The fear of being cheated on, the worry of whether or not the girl I fall in love with will want the life I can offer her, lots of reasons, really,” he said, shrugging.
“I don’t understand. What’s wrong with all of this?” I asked, twirling my finger in the air.
“Nothing,” he said, those brown eyes of his going molten as a small smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Absolutely nothing.”
Jace closed the distance between us, wrapped his arms around my waist and then lowered his lips to mine. Unlike all of our other kisses, this one seemed to carry some sort of promise, or an unspoken message, but I couldn’t place my finger on it. Whatever it was, it melted me on the spot.
“Come here,” he whispered, pulling back from my lips.
“Where?” I asked, looking around.
Rather than give me a chance to second-guess myself, Jace whirled me around so that I had my back against the brick wall that had been in front of me just moments before.
“Right here,” he said, dipping his head to devour my neck.
I moaned, softly, but I was already starting to become self-conscious. “What if someone sees us?” I asked, trying to look past the speakers. Only, I couldn’t see over them.
“Trust me, baby. No one’s coming back here.”
“But—“ Rather than finish my protest, I squeaked. Not because I’d seen something, but because I felt something: his hand, cupping my sex under my dress.
“I need you. Here. Now.” Jace claimed my lips once again, only this time, I wasn’t so inclined to let it carry me away.
“Jace—“
“Shhh... remember? Let me do the worrying,” he said, stroking the finger on his free hand across my neck and down my collarbone. “I’d never do anything that would put you at risk. If I didn’t think we were okay, I’d never even suggest it. But seeing you in this dress, here, with me... be my good luck charm, please?”
I gulped, still not sure that we were out of sight, but as Jace pushed my moist panties to the side and inserted a finger, my resolve started to wane. It was completely obliterated when he started using his thumb to stroke my clit. Who was I to deny the man of good luck anyway?
He continued to place slow, steady pressure on my fiery core, inside and out, moving in slow, deliberate strokes. Before I had a chance to even form another thought, I was a heaving, panting mess, ready to do whatever he wanted, if it meant that he wouldn’t stop.
“Turn around. Put your hands on the wall, baby,” he said, whispering against the bare flesh just above the collar of my dress. And, oh my, he was panting, too.
I did as he asked without a second thought. In seconds flat, I heard the distinct sound of foil being ripped. In the very next instant, he was entering me from behind. “That’s it,” he grunted. “Hold yourself up there. Bend into me, just a little.”
I did as he said and was rewarded with his hand at my sex, again working away at the tight bundle of nerves just begging to be released. I started to moan as he pounded away, bringing me closer and closer to my glorious orgasm, but he gently shushed me.
“We may be hidden—but we don’t’ want---anyone to hear,” he said between quick thrusts.
Oh, God. How was I going to keep it all in? How was I going to—
“Stay with me, baby,” he panted, grabbing a hold of my hip for leverage. “Almost there. Now come with me. Give it to me.”
It was as if he’d sensed my brain’s mindless chatter, and with just those few words, he’d brought me back to my body, the erotic moment we were having, and my encroaching explosion. As I started to fall apart and shatter, I held my breath, hoping it would stifle the cries that begged to be released. I palmed the wall, practically digging my fingers into the concrete so that I didn’t lose myself in the drowning sensation.
When we’d both finished, Jace made quick work of sorting us both out. And, when I turned to face him again, he was grinning like I’d just handed him a winning lottery ticket.
“That was—holy fuck,” he said, kissing me, pushing me back against the wall.
But if his kisses were rough, his hands were just as gentle as he swept away my disheveled hair, traced a line across my cheek and down my neck, and weaved his fingers into my hair.
When he finally broke the kiss, I was dizzy and out of breath. “Let’s go find Becca,” he said. “That way, you don’t spend all evening walking around in my mess.”
I hadn’t even noticed at first that I was, in fact, dripping down my own leg. He’d used a condom, so technically it was my mess... but still a little gross to think about walking around like that all night, so I nodded
in agreement as my heart tried to find a normal pace again.
We found Becca hardcore flirting with the bass guitarist, not that I was surprised. Poor girl had been surrounded by freshman almost all year, thanks to her job. The rest of the guys in the band were all seniors—the hottest seniors on campus if you asked any living, breathing female. I almost hated to pull her away, especially when it looked like bass boy might really be into her.
“Becca,” I said, meekly, tapping on her shoulder to get her attention.
She turned her head, and I swear, she’d been possessed by a demon. “Am-scray,” she seethed through clenched teeth before turning back to talk to the guitarist again. But it couldn’t wait.
“Becca.”
“I’m really sorry,” I heard her tell the bass player—what was his name again? “I’ll be right back.”
She took my elbow and practically dragged me out of hearing distance. “What in the world, Andy?” she asked, brows pinched, pout pronounced. “You’ve got your rocker. Let me get mine. He’s so—”
“I—I need to go to the bathroom,” I blurted out, not even waiting for her to finish her swooning; we’d have been there all night if I’d let her go on.
Becca shook her head, as if confused by my circumstances, but then understanding took over her features. “Ohhh. Shit, Andy. Sorry. I completely forgot about last time.”
Leaving me where I stood, she ran back over to the bass guitarist and then headed back my way. “Okay, let’s go,” she said, fluffing her hair a bit, probably for the guitarist’s benefit. “I needed to go anyway. All that beer is going right through me.”
“Beer? When did you get beer?” I asked as we made our way through the backstage area.
She shrugged in response.
“Where are we going?” I asked, a little confused as to why we weren’t going through the crowd outside the stage.
“They have restrooms set aside specifically for band members and their guests. Cuts down on security detail, I guess.” When my face scrunched in confusion, she clarified. “Barbie told me about it.”
“Yeah, who is she, by the way?”
“Ugh, some slut that goes from one band to the next. A groupie of the worst kind,” Becca said, pushing her way through the door to the restroom. I followed close behind. “She’s followed Pink Ladies, Motley Stew, even Death Avengers—totally different kind of music—just so she could say she slept with the lead singer. She’d have gone after Jace but... well, he’s not like that.”
“Not like that how?” I asked.
“Chick, I told you before, he’s not the kind of rocker that picks up just groupies.” Becca picked one of the stalls and I chose the one next to her. “He’s different. No one, not a single one of his bandmates can remember him bringing a girl to a gig. You’re the first.”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” I yelled to the stall next to me. “Maybe he just keeps his girls quiet.”
“No, chick. I’m telling you, no one here has ever seen him with a girl. Ever. Think about all the hours of practice, hanging out, organizing... the man’s like celibate or some shit.”
“Was,” I muttered, more to myself than to her as I wiped away what was left of our little sexcapade backstage.
“Either way, you should feel pretty damned special, woman. Quit busting the guy’s balls based on his profession.”
Becca had a point; maybe I was taking his rocker image too far, stereotyping him based on what I thought he should be like, rather than who he really was. It seemed I really wasn’t being very fair to him, and he deserved better than that, especially after everything he’d done for me.
When we exited the bathroom, Becca turned to me and grabbed my shoulders. “Jace is an amazing guy, Andy. I know you’re still battling with all the Sean stuff... but I’m your best friend. If I thought Jace was going to hurt you, I’d say something.”
“You’re right,” I said, sighing as she released me.
We made our way back out the stage area where both Jace and the bass player were waiting. Becca fell right back into conversation and I fell into Jace’s arms.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered against his neck.
“For what?”
I bit at the inside of my cheek for a moment before looking up at him. “Assuming you were crazy rock star chasing tail.”
He stiffened a little against me, but it was gone as quickly as it’d come. “It’s not like the stereotype isn’t justified,” he said, sounding a little sad. “But thank you.”
“Thank you? Jace, I basically just called you a man whore and you’re thanking me?”
Jace reached down and grasped my chin between his thumb and fingers. “But the point is that you didn’t keep on believing it,” he said, a small smile pulling at the edges of his mouth. “You sought out the facts, dug a little deeper so you could uncover the truth. That’s what I... I really like that about you. You search for what’s really underneath all the smoke and mirrors. So thank you.”
As he lowered his lips to mine, I couldn’t help but think how wrong he was.
Becca had been the one to uncover the truth; I had only assumed and accused. I’d allowed my fear of hurt and rejection to cloud what had been right in front of me the entire time. I should have been thanking him—for believing in me, for pulling me out of my depression, for showing me what it meant to live in the moment. If I wasn’t careful, the list of things to thank him for would outweigh anything I could ever offer him.
***
I lost track of how many bands we listened to before Reckless came up on the roster, but I knew that none of them stood a chance. Certainly, a few had been good, but none of them had the stage presence or the skills that Jace and his band had... my theory was confirmed when they stepped out on stage.
Security guards were standing at the front, practically beating back the rabid fans. Girls were throwing everything from letters to panties up on the stage. Even I was taken aback by the energy buzzing and bouncing off the concrete walls. But I wasn’t an innocent bystander, not in the least.
Becca and I screamed until our throats were raw. We clapped, stomped our feet, and cupped our hands over our mouths to intensify the complete fangirl sounds we were making. We’d made such a clamor that I actually felt dizzy when Jace stepped up to the microphone; or maybe that was just the fact that I was on this side of everything, seeing his presence and pairing that with the heated moment we’d had behind the very speakers that were making the squealing sounds when he first spoke.
“Good evening! We are Reckless, and this song goes out to my girl.”
The women in the crowd went even crazier (if that was possible), each of them probably imagining that he was referring to one of them. But I knew the truth, and my heart told me so through its uncanny ability to swell inside my airway.
“Andy! He’s talking about you!” Becca shouted, nudging me with her shoulder.
I couldn’t respond through the tears and swollen heart clogging my throat so I simply nodded and leaned against her shoulder. This man... God, what was I going to do?
I didn’t think he’d simply toss me aside and abandon me for another woman, not after Becca had set everything straight, but what would it look like after the six weeks was over and he had nothing more to prove? We’d only been “together” for a day, and here my heart was already aching at the thought of us falling apart afterwards. What would it feel like if it turned out that this was nothing more than lust and sexual attraction?
“Stop it!” Becca shouted, squirming beneath my head. “Quit overthinking it and enjoy the music!”
“But, what if—“
“No but, Andy.” Becca wrapped her arm around my shoulder and pulled me into her.
Together, we swayed to the music, lost ourselves in the trance that only Jace Richardson could place on you, relished in the moment that was present, right then and there, but would be gone in the very next second.
Moments are like that... fleeting, that is.
In fact, if my relationship with Sean had taught me anything, it was that nothing lasts forever. Not even the things you’re certain of.
CHAPTER FIVE
After our harrowing adventure of trying to leave the auditorium, everyone piled into their respective vehicles. At first, I thought we were just headed home, but just a little ways up the road, Jace pulled into a Denny’s parking lot.
“What are we doing here?” I asked.
Jace shrugged and killed the engine. “Eating,” he said.
When I cocked an eyebrow at him, indicating that I wanted a better explanation, he shook his head. “Always looking for answers,” he said, chuckling. “It’s a band tradition. We always go to Denny’s after we play.”
“Tradition?”
“Quite.” Jace slid out of the truck and then offered his hand to me.
I took it and allowed him to help me to the ground. “Care to explain?” I asked, still holding his hand as we walked toward the entrance of the restaurant.
“I’ll let the guys do that.”
I spotted our group immediately. They were the crazy people, over in a large corner booth, spitting straw wrappers at each other. Becca was right there in the mix of it all, her arm threaded through bass guitarist’s arm. They actually looked pretty cute together.
“What’s the bass’s name?” I asked Jace quietly, mortified by the idea of not knowing his name and having to engage in conversation with him.
“That’s Zane,” he said, nodding his head at the dirty blonde bass guitarist. “Robert.” Jace nodded at the tall, curly-haired guy sitting across from Zane. “And Thomas. He does a lot of our solos when I’m too wrapped up in singing. I get a little lost in the music and forget to actually play sometimes.”
As we slid into the booth with Jace’s bandmates, I couldn’t help but feel like I’d instantly been welcomed into their little family. Each one of the band members held out their hands, some of them ribbed me about the interview I’d done with Jace, and still others asked me about Seattle. But all of them—everyone except Robert—warmed up to me instantly.
