by T Gephart
“Whatever. Play nice.”
***
Waiting to go on was giving me the scratch. We had been hiding out backstage like a bunch of shady SOBs looking to rob the joint. Of course mingling with the general population would ruin the ta-dah moment when we jumped out of the shadows and blew the doors off the place. Which is why I had absolutely no idea if Beth was one of the faceless bodies on the dance floor or if she’d pulled a no-show and the back of my neck was sweating for no good reason.
“You want Ali to look for her, dude?” Rusty’s heavy hand landed hard on my shoulder as we both looked out into the abyss. “She can scan the room and report back.”
“She doesn’t know what she looks like.” Sadly, the only thing that stopped me from agreeing.
“Digital age, my friend. We grab her picture from her Facebook profile, and text it to Alison. It’s at most a five minute operation.” The smug bastard pulled out his iPhone from his back pocket ready to go.
“Sure, that isn’t creepy.” Because getting eyestrain from staring into the dark was soooooooo much better. “I’m sure she’s out there, she said she would be.”
I’d checked my phone a few times, the lack of sorry-I’m-washing-my-hair text giving me hope she was right where she should be. Pity there was a gnarling feeling in my gut that hinted that she might not. I guess I’d find out soon enough.
“You ready to Cloak and Dagger the shit out of this place?” Rusty bounced around doing his usual pre-show routine, shadow punching and dancing on his feet De La Hoya pretty.
“So ready!” A Red Bull loaded Joey Shaw was pumped having shaken off the earlier fatigue. After shot gunning four of them, that come down was going to be a bitch.
“This is going to be so fucking cool.” Angie tucked away her phone, her pre-show routine of saying good night to her kid and husband over. The killed call signaled it was show time.
“Well then, let’s go.”
The four of us stepped onto the blackened stage, the house light just enough to keep people from running into each other and spilling drinks. The bar manager knew the minute our cover was blown there was going to be a text/social media frenzy that would rival any flash mob. Extra security was in place so shit didn’t get too out of control. And the excitement of getting up close and personal with the crowd had pushed aside other thoughts of whether a certain brunette was going to be among them.
Joey tapped his sticks, counting us in as Rusty and Angie hit matching opening cords. The lights that hung on the truss above swayed as the cans came to life, the speakers blasting the marriage of noise as we opened with one of our older tunes.
It hit the audience like a crash-cart, their feet stilled as their brains tried to register the what-the-fuck. But it only took a second with the resurrection of the noise loud enough to rival what was coming out of the amps.
Rusty was working his end of the stage, his fingers all over the fretboard while he oozed that rock god charm. The girls in the front row paying no mind to the fact Rus was happily off the market.
Angie was another matter. In front of the mic stand with none of the theatrics of our lead guitarist, slaying the audience with the pitch perfect tone while playing rhythm.
And Joey, well, you’ve all seen Animal from the Muppets right? It was like that, but in time.
My fingers moved along the nickel-wound strings of my bass, muscle memory doing its job as I scanned the crowd. A hundred or more brunettes, and not one of them the one that I wanted.
Well.
Fuck.
That really sucked.
I gave myself a second or two of licking my boo-boos before sacking up. The audience wasn’t here for love songs and dedications, and I was going to give them exactly what they had come to expect from Black Addiction. Pure rock with no BS.
I don’t think I could have performed any better if she’d been in front of me, the energy blasting out of me as I played the fuck out of my bass. The four of us moved through the set list, old songs and new getting equal time as the crowd spilled out onto the street.
And with the last song wrapped we took a group bow at the front of the stage and said goodnight to the over excited audience.
“Man, I could play another thirty songs.” Red Bull Joey was still riding high off the buzz. “It’s not better than sex, but a very close second.” He matched me stride for stride as we headed to the band room.
“I’m glad you revised your choice, asshole.” I punched him in the arm as Rus came up behind us, his hands giving us both a bro tap as he squeezed in between.
“Dump your shit and let’s get to the bar. I want drinks with our people, Angie is even staying for a few so there is no pussying out.” He gave us both a pointed look before bypassing the band room all together and heading straight to the public area. His interest in us and the conversation, obviously over.
“Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about.” He raised his hands like a moron, his enthusiasm wasted seeing as it was only the two of us in the area. “We need to write material faster so we can tour again. I want to be doing this every fucking night.”
I neglected to point out that his feelings of euphoria were going to fade pretty fucking quick when his daughter wanted her daddy at six in the morning. The silent knowledge making me happier than I probably should be.
“Well we have another six of these local shows, so that should keep you satisfied for a while.” Keep us both happy, and feed the creativity as well.
Following Rusty’s directive, we dumped our shit and headed to the bar. The well-lubricated crowd hadn’t thinned, instead milling around sharing footage they’d captured on their phones while drinking. The welcoming hollers we received were almost as loud as when we’d been on stage, the slaps on the backs and well dones thrown at us from every direction.
“Beer.” I leaned over the bar, the dude with the 90’s No Fear shirt on behind it shaking his head when I handed over the cash. The drinks for the night were a gift from the management.
“I’d assume you’d be doing shots of Jäger?” A voice called from behind me, the owner of it the person I’d been dying to see all night. “Or are you slowing down in your old age?”
Seeing her standing there was a one-two punch straight to the jaw. She was flawless in a pair of fitted blue jeans, her tight black top doing jack shit to hide what was underneath despite not showing any naked flesh.
“I’m driving.” I ignored the other part of her statement because we both knew I was far from old. “But I have a bottle at home if you’re interested.” The grin widened all by itself as I moved closer to where she was standing, my interest in the beer forgotten.
“Oh he’s fucking smooth.” Her roommate who, up till now I hadn’t noticed, gave me a smile and a wink. “Good playing up there by the way, she barely looked at your ass.”
“Jules.” Beth cursed under her breath, shaking her head gently as the smile crept across her lips.
“Okay, okay it was me who was looking at your ass.” Jules rolled her eyes before giving me a nod of approval. “Two thumbs up.”
“Appreciated.” The head returned the nod, my eyes not moving from Beth. “You want to come say hi to the rest of the band?”
“Sure.” Beth’s eyes flicked to the left and the right, the rest of Black Addiction chilling over on the other side of the bar.
The addition of her friend wasn’t going to be a problem for me, and I was going to give her my greeting exactly how I’d wanted to.
“You look great.” My hands wrapped around her waist without waiting for the invitation. “I didn’t see you out there, I thought you decided not to come.”
“I was here the whole time, just at the back.” Beth stepped back out of my hold. “Right, Jules?”
“Yep, here the whole time,” Jules added, the need for a wingman obvious.
I wasn’t sure if it was the PDA or something else, but she was sending a blast of don’t-touch-me I didn’t understand. Especially when ten hours ago I wa
s doing a lot more to her than giving her a hug.
Not wanting to make an issue of it here—but trust me, it was going to be discussed—I dropped my hands like a good boy and led them through the crowd to meet the band. The chill hopefully going to be warmed by hi-how-are-yas that looked to follow.
Joe was up against the bar, his hands raised in animation as he talked to the crowd in front of him, each of them enthralled in whatever it was he was saying.
“Hey, stranger.” His head moved to Beth who was standing back waiting for a lull in the conversation. “You just going to stand there or give me a proper hello, considering it’s been freaking years.” His mouth shooting her a grin.
“Hey.” She laughed back, her arms giving the bastard the hug she hadn’t given me. It was the first time ever I’d been jealous of the bastard, but at that moment I would have given my left nut to trade places.
“Wow, Manhattan looks good on you, good work.” The asshole continued, my fists white-knuckling by my side as he spun her around making her fucking giggle. “Hopefully it will have the same effect on Max and he can finally get some style.” The SOB had the nerve to smirk in my direction.
The irritation I was feeling was not because I was worried Joey was making a play for my girl—well technically she wasn’t mine, but whatever. That dude and I had been through thick and thin, and even if his dick wasn’t owned by his beautiful, talented and mouthy wife Kenzie, he would never get involved with Beth. Sure he’d had a tendency to sleep with girls either Rus or I had been with in the past, but now it was about as possible as a eunuch getting an erection.
So what ate at me was not the asshole’s charm, but that he was doing the shit I wanted to do. Making her laugh and wrapping her in a hug.
I wasn’t given too much time to ponder with Alison and Rus making their way toward us.
“Beth.” Rusty held up his beer, his other arm wrapped tightly around his girl. “So you got a new neighbor I hear, my sympathies.”
Great another smooth bastard I needed to contend with.
And wait for it.
Yep, there was the laugh.
Beth did the intro of Jules to the boys. Not that she needed to, her roommate was holding her own. Rusty did what he always did whenever Ali was with him, keeping his hands on her while making sure everyone heard how awesome she was. I had to hand it to the guy, he’d become a one-woman guy the minute those two even got a sniff of being serious and he hadn’t so much as glanced at another chick. Earned him lots of respect, especially on account the chick he was dating was my kin.
“I still can’t believe your Phil’s daughter.” Beth’s face reared back in a mixture of shock and surprise. Yeah, I’d told her the story, but it didn’t get any easier seeing the evidence in front of you. Clearly the only thing my oxygen thief of a brother had done right, even if every single time I thought about the situation I wanted to beat the living shit out of him.
“I don’t really know him,” Ali sipped her drink, the subject of daddy dearest not being her favorite. “I met him a couple of times but—”
“But he’s an asshole and she’s better off without him in her life.” I added, aware that I had been sitting on the periphery of the conversation for too long. “We’re all better off without him.”
“Surely we have something better to talk about other than Phil.” Angie joined our happy little gang, pulling Beth into a hug. “It’s been forever.”
There was another person I would be happy to pull a Freaky Friday with, instead I was pouting like a fucking three-year-old doing the why-don’t-I-get-one.
“Yeah, a long while.” Beth smiled back, whatever tension she had earlier being shelved as she chilled with the band. “Last time I saw everyone was at Rusty’s before you guys went on the Power Station tour.”
“Ahhh, the night legends were made.” Rusty wiped a fake tear from his cheek. “And we lost our front woman to another band.”
“You didn’t lose me, moron, I’m still here.” Angie popped Rus in the arm. “But since you brought it up . . .” She whipped out her phone with its thirty thousand pictures of her big-shot husband and her seriously cute kid. Can’t say I blamed her, and it was sort of heartwarming to see.
“Jase is home with Zack.” Her finger flicked along the glass showing photos of her kid’s second birthday. “It’s hard to get sitters.” Hiring a nanny not an option for our ballsy front woman.
“I could watch him if ever you guys wanted a night out? I love kids, it’s one of the reasons why I went into teaching.”
Cue the sound of screeching fucking tires as Beth’s words settled in, almost every single one of us developing muteness with eyeballs turning directly to Angie.
“Or not.” Beth added, the silence being pretty fucking obvious that as gracious as the offer was, Angie probably wasn’t feeling it. “It was just an idea.”
“It is a great idea. Maybe Zack can meet you and we can see how it goes? I’d still have to talk to Jase as well, but I’d definitely think about it.” Angie didn’t shoot down the idea like we’d all assumed, the rest of the band still reeling from the shock.
“Of course, the offer is there.” Beth smiled, giving Angie’s hand a squeeze.
“I’m glad you’re back.” Angie continued the loving feeling and gave Beth another hug. “Don’t go disappearing again.”
“Wow. That’s some neat party trick you just pulled, Angie hardly lets anyone watch her son,” Rusty added, the risk of an Angie stare-down not enough to keep him from opening his mouth.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m protective. I don’t care what you idiots thinks.” She ignored the shade she was catching. “Now I’m going to have my one beer before heading home to my hot husband.” She moved to the bar and ordered her drink.
“So, are we drinking or standing around?” Jules looked around, her hands firmly on her hips. “Because it’s a Saturday night and I’m in a bar, I came here with the understanding there’d be booze.”
“Let me get you a drink, Jules.” I smiled, immediately liking the girl even if at present she was standing between me and the girl I wanted to put my hands on. “Beth? You joining your friend?”
“Sure, that would be good.” She gave me a nod, her chill thawing a little toward me. “Thank you.”
Awesome. At least she was planning to stay a little longer and I was using that shit to my advantage. And I was totally going to be finding out as to why it was perfectly acceptable for everyone else to lay hands on her, but not me.
Oh, and I am almost positive her wingman had been given special instructions to run interference as well. I might not have seen it right away, but the way Jules had subtly stepped between us was a huge red flag. As was the fact Beth was more comfortable giving Joey a hug than me.
Not happy.
And like it or not, we were having a discussion and she was going to shed some light on why the sudden one-eighty.
Tonight.
We were having that fucking chat tonight. Probably on the way home when I drove her and her crazy friend back to our apartment building. I have to tell you, I was really starting to like this new address of mine.
Jules and her bright ideas.
Instead of coming up with a good, valid and non-offensive reason for not turning up at Max’s gig, she instead convinced me to go but bring reinforcements—her. Because I couldn’t possibly get into trouble if she was standing beside me. Chances were that any trouble we got into would be engineered by her, and she was supposed to be on my side.
We’d arrived late, the should-we-shouldn’t-we taking up valuable time, stepping into the club just in time to see the start of their first song. The crowd that would be reasonable for any Saturday night, soon swelled as talk that Cloak and Dagger was Black Addiction incognito spread.
People packed into the room, our great position toward the back center of the club was forfeited as assholes squeezed in front of us. And all of them seemed to suffer from giant disease, which meant I’d occasionally need
to elbow people just to be able to see. It really did suck that even with the added heel ratio, we were relegated to peeking through gaps between people’s heads.
But it didn’t matter. We’d heard the whole thing. The prized glances we’d been able to steal through the crowd an amazing visual—each one of them awesome. I was so glad I had listened to my instinct—and Jules—and come to see the show.
They had always been good.
It had always been Max’s intention to turn pro, the seedy bars and clubs just a stepping-stone until they did. But seeing the morph from then to now was truly mesmerizing. They were . . . amazing. And they sure as hell deserved their success, the roaring response they got, proving it.
And just like every time I’d watch Max play, my heart squeezed with pride. Not because I felt I’d had a hand in it, but just because he’d made it, like he said he always would. In our own way, we both had.
Which was why even though I’d given myself a pep talk I was having a hard time keeping to the plan. The one where I told him that despite our sexy-time last night—or this morning if you wanted to get technical—we were going to keep it more above the covers for the future. It was better that way, less complications. Besides I didn’t want a no-strings sex-only relationship with Max and I was fairly sure that was all that was on the table. I wanted to be his friend, one that didn’t sleep with him every time she got within sniffing distance. The idea was losing its appeal the longer I looked at him and when he touched me it took every ounce of willpower I had not to jump into his arms and make out with him. In front of all these people. Like I would have five years ago.
