“I think he looked right at you.” As if reading my mind, Alex nudged me and waggled her eyebrows.
“Uh-huh. There is no chance,” I guffawed, “the lights were shining in his eyes, he couldn’t see anyone in the crowd.”
“No, I’m serious. He kept trying to catch your attention,” she asserted. “You didn’t see it? He was singing to you. My Gawd, you have to talk to him!”
“I can’t do that.” I wrapped my arms around myself protectively. “I’d die of embarrassment. I’d just be standing there looking completely basic.”
The thought of it made me cringe.
“Holy fucking shit. Well, you better think fast because I’m pretty sure he’s heading this way.” Alex’s eyes were wide with excitement.
I barely had the chance to turn around when a big hand clasped my shoulder and a distinctive, deep, husky voice asked, “Hey, um. Sorry to interrupt, but haven’t I seen you before?”
Looking up into the deepest blue eyes I’d ever seen, for a beat too long, electricity once again crackled throughout my body. I managed to speak, if not eloquently, “Um—Umm. I just was watching your show.”
I stared at his exquisite face, not able to help it. After a beat too long I finally was able to look down at my shoulder where his hand rested. “You are amazing, I mean—the band was amazing— I mean— I loved it!” I stuttered, wanting to disappear through the floor at my ineptitude of being able to flirt.
“Oh, uh, cool. Thanks.” Ty’s cheeks visibly reddened and he looked at his boots almost bashfully. This took me by surprise, I hadn’t expected any of the LTZ guys to be modest. Or nice. Or shy. They were all so, well, overwhelmingly hot. Brushing off the compliment, Ty looked at me intensely. “No, I mean it. I feel like we’ve met somewhere and it’s driving me crazy trying to figure it out.”
I couldn’t find my words. With little dating experience, having such a powerful reaction to a guy was new. But then this was not just any guy—he was a fucking rock god, so maybe it was to be expected. “Oh-kay, but no, I think I’d remember you.”
Realizing this came out somewhat snarky, I changed my tone, trying to be sexier and more confident. Unfortunately, instead, I sounded like a total nerd fangirl. “I mean, I’d for sure remember meeting you.”
God, I’m an idiot. I blushed literally everywhere.
Some of the crowd swarmed around us when they noticed the singer of LTZ was among the masses. Ty didn’t appear to be aware of his effect at all. His focus was solely on me, like I was the only person in the club. He moved closer in so he could hear me better. His fingers lightly stroked down my arm, almost like he was afraid to touch me but couldn’t help it. “I’m not super good at this, um. Well, maybe I made up an excuse to say hello, so hello. I’m Ty.”
Not good at it? How could this possibly be? Everyone wanted to talk to him as evidenced by the crowd of people pushing toward us.
“I’m Zoey,” I answered, and then my mind emptied of all coherent thought because the world around us fell away and there was only me and him in the room.
We stared at each other, both of us with goofy grins on our faces, the silence between us embarrassingly long. I didn’t know how to flirt with him. Apparently, he was in the same boat. Beautiful girls of every size, shape, and color surrounded us, batting their eyelashes, trying to catch his attention. Clearly wondering how to divert his attention from me.
“That’s a pretty name for the prettiest girl here,” he said before finally breaking eye contact to glance down at his phone.
My bullshit detector activated.
“Really? That’s your line?” I cocked my hip and wrinkled my nose in dismay. Surprised, but internally cheering for myself, at my wariness. “I almost fell for it. This is actually how you meet girls after a show. Ty, I’m not a thirsty groupie, I actually genuinely loved your music.”
A look of mortification passed through his eyes before changing into intrigue. His hand continued running up and down my arm slowly. “Hmmm, well, I admit—that sounded super cheesy.” He looked back down at his phone but smiled up at me through his mane of brown waves, scrunching his nose slightly.
My arm was tingling, hyperaware of his touch. Could he feel the energy between us too? I studied him and challenged, “I was hoping you wouldn’t be a pick-up-line guy.”
His blue eyes snapped up from his phone, piercing mine again intensely. “I’m not a pick-up-line guy,” he insisted.
A text lit up his phone that he read quickly before he shoved the device back into his pocket.
“I’ve gotta go help load out, Zo-ey.” His deep voice drew my name out, which sent sparks to my girl-parts.
“I didn’t mean—” I called out to Ty’s back. He was already stalking back toward the stage where the rest of the band was packing up their gear. Feeling deflated, I traced my arm absently, immediately missing the warmth and zing of his hand rubbing it.
“OMG are you SERIOUS?” Alex whisper-squealed, interrupting my trance. “He is the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen in real life. Although . . . No. The drummer is delicious, more my type.”
“Alex, I just royally fucked that up.” I pouted dramatically. “I’m such a tool, I basically put the hottest guy that ever talked to me on blast. No wonder he bailed. I totally just missed my chance.”
“Shut the fuck up. Did you see the way he looked at you? He’ll be back, trust me. Let’s just chill and hang out for a bit more. Just look nonchalant, cool. As your dad would say, ‘Be Fonzie.’” She laughed.
I tried to be Fonzie. Unsuccessfully. Keeping an eye where the band was loading out, I hoped to catch a glimpse of the gorgeous singer and maybe make amends. Waiting around while Alex chatted with friends, I prayed Ty would come back. After a while, there didn’t appear to be any sign of LTZ, their gear, or Ty. Of course, I was so short it was hard to get a good look, even when I continuously stood on my tiptoes to assess the situation.
Dejectedly, when my curfew approached, I turned back to the group and pulled out my phone. After one more hopeful look, I opened my Uber app, tapped in the address of The Mission, and said my goodbyes. “Guys, I’m calling it. I’m heading home.”
Because the club was in the heart of downtown Seattle, a car arrived in under two minutes. I was a wannabe Cinderella, and the hourglass had run out for any chance at talking to Ty ever again. I didn’t exactly give up. I took one last, sad look around the club before dashing out the side exit to locate the car. When it pulled up, I jumped in and was closing the door when it suddenly flung back open.
“Hey, wait, did you forget about me?” Ty was nearly out of breath when he got into the car. “Can I catch a ride?”
“Tyson, uh, uh I-I— I’m going home. I have a curfew.” I mentally thwacked my hand against my head, not wanting him to know that I was still some dumb high school kid for another month.
“Uhh, shoot. I had this great idea to ride home with you, Zoey. Maybe you’ll give me your number and we can hang out sometime.” Ty gave me a side look, his hair flopping over his eyes. “That’s not a line. It’s just what I hope will happen.”
My smile stretched from ear to ear, and it felt like a thousand butterflies had been released from the top of my head. Holy shit, this was like a movie. Determined not to blow it again, I scooted over and patted the seat. Ty slid in next to me, pressing his long, lean thigh against mine in the tiny back seat of the car. He turned toward me and grinned, just a hint of white teeth peeking through his full lips. I turned toward him, my smile widening even more. The car sped off and I couldn’t help but get lost in the depths of his piercing, blue eyes.
Crap, this guy’s gonna break my heart.
I pushed the thought aside, beamed at him like a fool, and heard myself saying, “Pretty good comeback, rocker-boy.”
Chapter 2
TYSON
The same night
“Dude, are you ready?” Zane put his arm around me, gauging my nervousness. He was always making sure I felt comfortable, knowi
ng that I hadn’t fallen into this lead-singer gig willingly. Tonight, after all, was a huge night for all of us.
“I’m so ready.” I shook out my hair after finishing my standard pre-show vocal warm-ups. “This is so fucking awesome, have you seen the crowd?”
For once, I was as exhilarated and giddy to go onstage as my bandmates. I didn’t have an ounce of the usual pre-show jitters. Crammed into the small closet next to the stage that The Mission had designated its “green room,” this was our biggest night as a band. Something in my gut told me this was the show that would change my life.
Connor, our big, burly bass player finished changing a string that had busted right before we were meant to start and was now tuning his bass. “Sorry, guys.” He looked up from his instrument, his eyebrows still furrowed in concentration of the task he’d just completed. “It’s fixed.”
Jace, filming us with his camera phone, spoke directly to our Facebook Live audience. “And that, folks, is how you miss your set time for only the biggest show of your life!” He had a funny way of capturing us all on his social media videos, while remaining relatively anonymous himself.
“Fuck off, Deveraux,” growled Connor as he pushed the camera out of his way.
“Okay, okay!” I held up my hand to get everyone’s attention. “Knock it off. Tonight is going to kick ass. We’ve worked hard and now after two years of playing every coffee shop, house party, and dive bar in Seattle, we are finally playing a sold-out, headlining gig at The Mission in front of five hundred people. We’ve got this!”
“Fuck yeah!” Zane bopped up and down excitedly. Holding his fist out toward the group of us he shouted, “Fist pump!”
Obligingly, we all held out our fists and knocked knuckles before Connor stalked through the door and headed up the stairs to the stage. Jace followed right behind him. Finally, Zane laughed and saluted me as he bounded to his place onstage. When Connor and Jace were in place, they gave Zane a nod. Legs spread wide, our brilliant guitarist struck a chord before shredding into the mind-blowing intro to a new song called Catatonic.
I became a little emotional while waiting for my cue. It truly did feel like my life was about to change when I watched my band-brothers start the show. The crowd was going mental. I could hear them screaming my name, which still freaked me out a bit. All I ever wanted was out there on the stage. Within my grasp. Tonight was my ticket out. My way to turn my life around from being the shy, nerdy loser I’d been not that long ago.
Singing, playing guitar, and songwriting were permanently in my blood, which meant things were different now. As a member of a popular band, I’d slowly gotten used to the fact that we represented a certain rock-star fantasy to our followers. A captivating stage presence and tons of social interaction with fans were mandatory in my own role as the lead singer. None of it came easy to me. It had also taken a long time for me to come to terms with the fact that good business decisions mattered almost as much as talent if you wanted to succeed.
And I had no choice but to succeed. Music and my band were all I had. My only hope of breaking free from my fucked-up home life was if LTZ made it big.
Taking a deep breath, I heard Zane play my cue. Determined to secure a future for myself and my band, it was time to up my game and embrace my role. I was the lead singer of fucking Less Than Zero. I would put on a show that blew the faces off our fans, both at the club and on our YouTube live-stream.
When I took the stage, I could feel the crowd humming with anticipation. This buoyed my confidence, I felt energized and alive. Giving it everything, I wailed and thrashed around the stage, singing my heart out and feeding off the energy of everyone who sang the words to our songs with me. Mind-blowing. I was so pumped with adrenaline, I made it my goal to own each and every person in the audience.
Halfway into the third song, like a powerful magnet, my eyes snapped to a pint-sized beauty in the second row with a mane of the most beautiful long, sun-kissed hair that cascaded in waves and framed the milky, smooth skin on her angelic face. Her huge hazel eyes were kind and confident, her full lips begged to be kissed. She wore some sort of cut-out Van Halen shirt and black skinny pants, and the luscious curves on her stunning body made me salivate. She wasn’t posing or pouting, she didn’t try hard at all.
She was the most jaw-dropping woman I’d ever laid eyes on.
Observing her swaying, almost hypnotized to our music, sent a bolt of lightning into my heart. She was lost to the beat, her glossy, pink lips mouthing some of the words. Every fiber of my being wanted to jump off the stage and kiss her senseless. For now, all I could do was try to catch her eye. Make a connection. So I sang directly to her with every ounce of emotion I possessed, hoping to get her to look at me, even if just for a second.
As if she read my mind, her gaze locked with mine and it was all over. Adorably, she blushed when she caught me singing to her, glancing to her right and left as though she couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t look away. I willed her to look back at me with every trick in the book, using my eyes, voice, and body language. Every now and then, I’d hit the jackpot when I’d catch her peering at me from under her lashes. Just for a moment. She always quickly averted her gaze to shyly share secret smiles with her tall friend.
We played for nearly two exhilarating hours, ending with two encores. After we finally left the stage, watching from behind the curtain, I kept my eye on my wild-haired blonde crush. She and her friend skipped out toward the front of the club with the crowd when it dissipated. They talked animatedly with a group of people who were filming them with their phones. Her mass of hair cascaded around her face when she gestured with an exaggerated rock horn sign and rolled her eyes at the camera. I was fully smitten, a sensation I’d never experienced. Wanting her made me feel brave.
She was so incredibly beautiful, like a butterfly made of all the colors in the world. Yet she wasn’t showy at all. Her demeanor was, well . . . settled. Grounded. She seemed genuine and comfortable in her skin, unlike the women who usually threw themselves at me. Unlike me, truth be told.
My heart raced when she glanced back toward the stage where the band was starting to pack up our gear and sign autographs. For the first time in my entire complicated life, things were simple. She was meant for me. No matter what my insecurities were, I wouldn’t risk not seeing her again.
“Ty, you remember Fiona.” Zane interrupted my thoughts. He had his arm around the dark-haired, pixie-like daughter of Gus Reynolds, the owner of The Mission. “Fiona Reynolds, this is Tyson Rainier.”
“Hey,” I said absently to the girl I’d met at Zane’s house a couple of times. I wasn’t really paying attention since I was so intently watching the blonde beauty from afar.
Fiona struggled halfheartedly to unwind herself from Zane. “Nice to see you again, Tyson. Will I settle up with you?”
“You’re breaking my heart, Fee.” Zane reached for her hand to pull her to the office. “You’ll settle up with me!”
Jace shook his head, his tattooed arm lazily draped around Cassie, a pretty redhead who always wore a low-cut top and too much makeup. She looked at him adoringly, but he arched his eyebrow disinterestedly and stared out into the crowd where I had been fixated. “Who was that girl you were singing to?”
“Um, I dunno, but I want to go talk to her before she leaves.” I tried to sound nonchalant.
Connor lurked behind us, huge, muscled and menacing, his penetrating glare directed at me. “My dude, for the love of God, please be chill.”
“It’s a lost cause, Connor.” Jace untangled himself from Cassie. “But if Ty is going make a move on a pretty girl, I’m not standing in his way.”
“Fuck you.” I flipped him off. “I’m not that bad.”
“Uh, yeah you are,” Connor deadpanned. Jace’s sister Jen, who Connor had been dating for years guffawed at his comment.
As we gained bigger audiences in Seattle, women and men pursued us relentlessly, which made me uncomfortable. Not because they were inte
rested, that part was flattering. More like, as my bandmates all knew, I had less-than-zero game when it came to romance. Hence, the backstory of how they originally chose our band name. A joke on me, which was true. And funny.
The truth was, I’d indulged in an easy hookup once or twice to take the edge off, especially if I’d had a few beers. But no matter how humbling it was to have the attention, for many reasons I lived by my own strict principles that were not necessarily befitting a rising rock star. One of which was that I didn’t hit on random women. Ever.
Until now, it seemed. Fueled on endorphins from the life-changing show, I was determined to embrace my fate. There was something about the little blonde beauty, almost like we were both meant to meet in this place at the same time. My heart was thundering in my chest when I approached her and the friend, both of their eyes went wide with surprise as I neared. Once I was close enough, it took all my willpower to resist burying my nose in the crook of my crush’s neck to breathe in her delicious scent of flowers and oranges.
Of course, Jace had called it. When I attempted to talk to her, I sounded like a cheesy asshole and I nearly aborted the operation completely. Thank God, Connor had kept an eye on me, saw me struggling, and texted me at exactly the right time. I was able to make up an excuse to calm my nerves and regroup. It had been such an epic night, when I charged into the Uber like a bull in a china shop, I was determined to get a date with the beautiful Zoey.
As we headed to her house, my confidence and adrenaline evaporated. I had no idea what the fuck I was doing. Covering up my self-loathing by grinning and feigning confidence, I couldn’t help but wonder if she still thought I was a typical arrogant dickhead musician trying to get into her pants for the night. Fuck. I vowed never to act that way, and I had no idea how to change her perception. So I did nothing.
ENDLESS: A Less Than Zero Rockstar Romance: Book 1: Ty & Zoey Page 2
