The smell of cigarette smoke wafted down the hall. She rushed outside. A group of guys were smoking by the door.
“Can I get one of those?” she asked.
A guy with a grizzled beard shook one out of the pack and lit it for her.
After a long dizzying drag, she moved away from the group and leaned against the outside wall, sucking down drags with her shaky hand.
“See that chick Griffin was hammering backstage?” one of the crew said. “Didn’t Love used to bang her? The one that claimed he was her baby daddy?”
“Tina,” answered a skinny kid.
“Yeah, her.” He whistled and took a swig of his beer. “Maybe when she’s done with Griffin, she’ll give me a hummer.”
Another guy laughed. “Broads want pretty-boy rock stars, not ugly roadies.”
“My dick’s a pretty boy,” said the skinny kid.
“I don’t want to hear about your tiny dick.”
While they sized up their penises, Effie smoked the cigarette all the way to the filter.
What am I doing here? Finding love, said her heart. Getting paid said her mind. By the end of the summer, she’d be a whole lot less broke. She could easily afford another year of tuition and even pay her sister back.
Something felt wrong about the arrangement. Maybe Paul was right—she’d expected more from Elias. Especially after traveling for a day and a half.
Elias popped outside right then. “There you are.” He glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching then gave her a quick kiss. “You smell like cigarettes. You don’t smoke, do you?”
“Secondhand stink.” She pointed to the roadies.
He frowned. “Wish they’d quit that shit.”
He led her to a double-decker bus, where a short man with a captain’s hat over his wild red curls kissed her on both cheeks. “Bonsoir,” he said.
She hugged the guy.
He didn’t hug her back, which was weird considering he’d just kissed her.
“LeStrange is our driver,” Elias said. “He’s French. Nobody understands him.”
“His name is LeStrange?”
“Eddie LeStrange,” Elias confirmed.
The driver corrected his pronunciation. “Non, ce n’est pas étrange, connard.”
She waved. “Hi, LeStrange.”
The driver rolled his eyes and opened the door.
Big-screen TV, leather couches, kitchen and bathroom—boy, they traveled like rock stars. “Wow, sweet ride,” she said.
Elias stowed her violin then plunked down across the aisle from her and closed his eyes.
The rest of the band stared at her. Well, more like glared at her. Especially the drummer.
With his Roman nose and fierce golden eyes, he was frightening and alluring—carnal and sexual—like a lion on the hunt.
The bassist sat at the other end, his big white grin and flashy green irises standing out on his dark skin. At least, he seemed happy to see her.
She smiled back.
He kept grinning.
She frowned.
He kept grinning.
And people think I’m weird, she thought.
The keyboardist next to the bassist saw the whole thing. With her delicate features, olive skin, sooty-colored hair, and tiny red frown, she reminded Effie of a mouse.
She waved at her. “Hi! I’m Effie.”
Elias snapped open his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m out of it. I didn’t introduce you, did I? Everyone, this is Effie.” He gestured to the front. “You already know Annie.”
His mother didn’t look up from her laptop.
She held back the urge to tell the woman to fuck off in Chinese.
“That’s Griffin,” he said, nodding at the drummer.
“Isn’t a griffin one of those half-bird, half-lion thingies,” she asked.
The bassist snorted. “More like a dirty rooster.” He fanned his face. “Boy, you stank. You got this whole bus smelling like a cheap ho. Pew.”
She snickered. No one else did. Especially not the drummer. “So that’s your real name, then?” she asked. “Griffin?”
“His real name’s Ralph,” the bassist said. “Ralph Macchio.”
“Like The Karate Kid?” she asked.
A violent red chemical reaction spread over Ralph’s visage.
The bassist fell back in his seat, screaming and laughing and kicking his legs like a toddler having a tantrum.
Elias touched her hand. “He prefers Griffin.”
She nodded. “Makes sense. I liked that movie though.”
Elias cleared his throat and motioned to the bassist. “Cato here is the puto de mierda who kept interrupting us earlier.”
“What does that mean?” she asked.
“Well-endowed,” Cato said.
The keyboardist scoffed.
“And that’s Missy,” Elias said.
“Nice to meet you, Misty.” Effie said. “So glad I’m not the only female here. Don’t think I could handle all this testosterone by myself.”
“Missy,” she snapped. “Not Misty.”
She slapped her forehead. “Oh, sorry. I’m terrible with names. Just ask Elvis.” She giggle-snorted. It wasn’t even funny, but she was delirious with exhaustion. Any minute now and she was going to start hallucinating.
Elias cleared his throat again.
“Ever tried lemon and honey for that?” Effie asked.
He coughed and continued the introductions. “Think you met Hal already. He’s pretty much part of the band.”
Elias rubbed his eyes. “I’m fried. Give me a minute to decompress.”
“Go for it,” she said. I’ll just be over here fending off the daggers from your bandmates. She dug out another lollipop from her backpack, and by the time she reached the gummy center, the bus pulled in front of a shack. Was that where they were staying?
“What the—?” Cato sprang to their side of the bus. “I’m gonna kill your mother, El.”
“This place even have running water?” Griffin asked.
“I got a good deal from my cousin,” Annie said. “Half off.”
Elias popped his jaw but stayed quiet. He was different around everyone else than he was with her. Then again, how would she know?
Cato craned his neck. “Where are all the Hobbitses at?”
Hal guffawed. “It totally looks like the goddamned Shire.”
“Maybe it’s nice inside?” she said.
All eyes landed on her.
“Or not.”
“I call the master.” Missy yanked her suitcase down from the overhead compartment.
Annie found the key under the mat and stuck it in the lock. The door wouldn’t budge.
Elias tried next and failed. He cursed in Spanish then banged his forehead against the door.
Hal raised his hand. “Volunteers to break into the Hobbit Hole?”
“Not it,” everyone shouted but Effie. Once again, all eyes focused on her.
“Is this some kind of hazing thing?” she said. “If so, I don’t want to be in your frat.”
Everyone’s gaze shifted to Cato. “Oh, I see.” He threw his bag on the ground. “You want the black man to break in and take the heat for all you bitches.”
Elias turned to her. “His dad’s a locksmith. He can break into anything.”
“Yeah, in New York,” Cato clarified. “Not in the Shire.”
“Hurry the hell up.” Missy shivered. “I’ve gotta pee.”
“Yeah, hurry.” Hal rubbed his arms. “It’s frickin’ cold out here.”
LeStrange grabbed his crotch. “Mes testicules ont rampé à l’intérieur de moi pour garder au chaud.”
Everyone stared blankly at the driver.
“Think he said something about his testicles,” Griffin said.
Cato shook his head then stomped back to the bus, mumbling about what a bunch of racists they all were. He took his sweet time and finally came back with a screwdriver and a flashlight. A second later, he sprung th
e lock.
Effie ran over and hugged him. “My hero.”
“That’s right.” He pointed to himself. “Hear that, bitches? I’m the hero. H.E.R.O.”
“Get the hell out of my way, hero.” Missy bolted through the door and flicked on the light.
Hal screamed like a woman and covered his mouth.
“This place is a shit hole,” Griffin said.
Annie surveyed the room. “This look like . . . China.”
“China is a trash can?” LeStrange asked.
“Speak English,” Cato said.
“That was English, no?” he said.
Cato huffed. “I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”
“It smells like boiled anus in here,” Hal said.
Effie plugged her nose and surveyed the scene. Piles of dirty dishes and overflowing trash bags crammed the kitchen. In the living room, a fire had burned a hole through the floor and something brown stained the couch.
“Did somebody give birth on that?” Cato asked.
“Qu’est-ce que c’est bordel?” LeStrange said.
Cato flopped out his arms dramatically. “English motherfucker!”
“One goddamned bathroom. One!” Griffin shouted from down the hallway. “And the water heater is the size of Hal’s head.”
Missy ran to the bathroom, holding her vagina. “Gross!” she shouted then ran out with fear in her eyes. “You don’t want to know what I just flushed down the toilet.”
“You got that right,” Hal said.
They crept upstairs. The so-called master suite contained nothing but a full-sized mattress on the floor.
Rickety bunk beds filled the other two tiny rooms.
“Don’t rich rock stars normally stay in five-star hotels?” Effie asked.
“Only three rooms?” Annie opened a random door. “Where’s number four?”
“Think I found four,” Griffin said from under the stairs.
Cato went back to investigate. “Is Harry Potter asleep in there?”
Elias gripped his cheeks and muffled an irritated sigh. “Hal, can you deal with the couch?”
“I did two tours in Iraq. I can handle sleeping on placenta.”
“Missy and Annie, the master’s all yours.”
“Yippee,” Missy said flatly.
Annie groaned. “She snores.”
“I do not!”
“Cato and Griffin in one bunk.” Elias pointed down the hall. “Effie can have the other. I’ll sleep in Harry Potter’s cupboard.”
“You’re too tall,” Effie said. “I’ll sleep in the cupboard.”
“You’re not sleeping in the cupboard.”
“Why does she have to sleep in the cupboard?” Cato asked. “Sleep in the other bunk with Elias.”
Elias’s hazel gaze landed on her mouth. “You okay with that?”
“Yes!” She sounded a little too excited. “I mean as long as I get the top bunk.”
“Deal,” Elias said.
Everyone dragged themselves to their rooms, except Annie, who turned on the shower and shut the bathroom door.
“You better not use all the hot water.” Griffin pounded on the door.
“Yeah,” Cato shouted. “You gotta get that ho stank off before you get in bed.”
“Piss off,” Griffin said.
Elias closed the bedroom door and let out a long exhale. “Tell me you’ve got your underoos on.” He wrapped his arms around her.
She batted her eyelashes. “Maybe.”
He nibbled the shell of her ear, sending tingles between her legs. “Can I see them?” he asked.
“Maybe.” She was getting good at this flirting thing.
He wiggled his brows and immediately ripped off his shirt and dropped his pants on the floor.
She covered her eyes “Whoa! I see you’re not wearing your underoos. I thought you were shy.”
“My dick’s not shy. Now lemme see those undies.” He gripped her hips.
She slapped his hands. “What about The Rules?”
“Fuck The Rules.” He reached for her boobs.
She ducked away and waved a finger at him. “Naughty. Naughty.”
He wet his lips and cracked his neck. “Can we at least sleep in the same bed?”
“Sure. Just don’t touch me.”
He smirked and waved a hand. “After you, then.”
She climbed the ladder and scrunched up against the wall. He flicked off the light and lay beside her. The bed creaked and groaned.
“Think this thing’s going to hold?” she asked.
He tangled his legs with hers. “I’m gonna fire Annie.”
They broke out in a riot of giggles, making the bed wobble dangerously.
“I like this place,” she said. “It’s silly.”
“Silly?”
“You’re right, it’s a sewer. I’m just happy to be here with you.”
He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “Feel me smiling? I haven’t smiled in two weeks,” he said. “Not since I left you.”
She traced the satin fabric of his lips and pressed her ear to his chest.
“I’m sorry.” He ran his fingers through her hair.
“For what?”
“This mess.”
“I’m used to messy.”
He yawned. “Not me.”
“Maybe you need more chaos in your life.”
“Or less,” he said and instantly fell asleep.
A minute later, they crashed to the floor.
Elias grabbed her leg. “You all right?”
“What happened?”
He crawled out and turned on the lamp.
Hal burst through the door with his gun cocked.
Like a ninja, Elias leapt behind the wreckage, hiding his naked body.
“What the hell happened in here?” Hal boomed.
“The bed broke,” Effie said.
Hal scratched his shiny head. “Who was on the bottom?”
“Um . . .” She turned to Elias and winced.
Elias rubbed the corner of his mouth.
Hal ran his tongue over his teeth, gave them a curt nod, then backed out and closed the door.
Elias turned to Effie. “You okay?”
“Are my eyebrows stuck in the shock position?”
“We could have died,” he said.
She collapsed in a fit of giggles.
He smiled down at her. “What’s so funny?”
“Imagine the headlines.” Effie squared her fingers. “‘Rock star dies in tragic bunk bed accident.’”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Bunk bed?”
“No, rock star.”
“How about cock star?”
“Hmm. I like it.”
They cleared a spot on the floor and placed the mattresses on top.
She shuddered. “Seriously, you could have been crushed under there.”
He held her hand. “I’m pretty tough.”
“No kidding. What was that ninja move you pulled?”
“Learned that in ‘Nam,” he mused.
“Cock star. Ninja. You’re full of surprises.”
The wind whistled through the broken windowpane. She could tell by his breathing he hadn’t fallen asleep yet.
“You worried about Hal telling everyone?” she asked. “Is that why you’re so quiet?”
“I can’t stop thinking about being inside you.”
A gap of silence passed. “We don’t even know each other.”
“I know.” He kissed her temple. “We’ll start tomorrow.”
21
Resonance
Soundtrack “Everybody Daylight,” Brightblack Morning
Elias opened his eyes the next morning and found Effie curled against him, her hair spread out like a silken blanket. Finally. Finally she was back in his arms.
Someone shrieked down the hallway.
Effie bolted upright. “What was that?”
“I don’t know. Sounded like Cato.”
She stretched. “Good morning!”
He smiled. “Buenos días.”
She surveyed the room. “Wow, this place looks worse in the daylight.”
“Yeah, let’s get out of here.”
They dressed quickly and made for the kitchen. Except for Cato, everyone else was packed and ready to go.
“About time.” Griffin scratched his chest.
“Stop,” Missy said. “You’re making it worse.”
“Making what worse?” Elias asked.
“Bed bugs. Fleas. Shit, I don’t know.” He lifted his shirt and showed the welts covering his torso.
Cato charged out of the bathroom with wild eyes. “I’m awake now, motherfuckers. Y’all hear me screaming? The hot water ran out right as I was rinsing the soap off my balls.”
All of the guys groaned. All of the women giggled.
“Talk about a rude awakening,” Hal said.
“No shit,” Cato said.
“Maldito,” Elias said. “Guess I’m not showering until the next place.”
“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Cato said.
“Let’s get out of this dump,” Elias said.
Once they were on the highway, Elias grabbed his laptop and sat next to Effie. “We recorded the new songs during our practice sessions.” He handed her his headphones. “I want to get your input.”
She put them on and pressed play. While she listened, she twitched, scratched, wrung her wrists, rubbed her eyes, and bit her nails.
He pressed stop. “What’s wrong?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Everything.”
“You serious?”
A huge bullet list of problems poured out her mouth.
Cato leaned over the back of his seat. “What’s wrong with the bassline?”
“Your rhythm isn’t matching the drums,” she said.
“Yo, Griffin,” Cato said. “The violinist doesn’t like your beats.”
Griffin fired off a few rounds of heavy artillery into his video game enemy. “Oh yeah? Tell her I don’t give a shit what she thinks.”
“Tell Ralph he’s a butthead,” Effie shouted back.
“Butthead?” Cato stomped and cackled. “Burn.”
Griffin threw the controller on the seat and barged back with murder in his eyes.
A staring contest began, Effie and Griffin fighting to the death. “You’re inconsistent,” she said. “And you play like a madman during the ballad and like an old man during the harder songs.”
Head-Tripped: A Sexy Rock Star Romance (Ad Agency Series Book 2) Page 10
