Claiming Addison: 69 Bottles #1

by Zoey Derrick

  “Kyle, I…”

  “Shh, it’s alright, Addison.”

  For some unexplained reason, I want to cry. I have no idea why I said I can’t, no clue why I can’t let this happen, why I can’t let him touch me, or…

  He slides out between the curtains and disappears. I let the tears consume me. I know why I couldn’t. I woke up thinking about Dan this morning and the guilt is back. Radiating from every pore in my body and I hate it. I hate that I have to feel this way. I hate that after all this time, Dan still has this effect on me.

  He and I had a great relationship, but it wasn’t effortless, it wasn’t like breathing and it certainly wasn’t love at first sight with him. I remember thinking early on in our relationship that we were good for each other because we let each other live our dreams. But at what cost?

  There was a point, after he died, that I felt relief. That relief quickly turned to guilt because I shouldn’t feel relieved that my fiancé had died, right? Well, that was what I told myself at the time. I felt guilty for the realization that I wasn’t a widow, that I didn’t lose a husband, just someone that I was comfortable with. Someone who was familiar. Maybe that’s all it was. Maybe all the love I think I felt for him was superficial and I’m just being a childish idiot waiting for something to wake me up to reality and just maybe Talon and Kyle are that wake up call.

  It is with that thought that I wipe the tears from my eyes and climb down out of bed. I throw up the hood of my hoodie, hiding myself in my little shell of protection and I get the strangest sense that I am taking the walk of shame, without having done the act itself.

  When I get to the bathroom, the door is closed. Damn it. I really have to pee and I don’t want to stand here so exposed to the guys in the bunk behind me. I walk into the kitchen, following my nose to the coffee and find Kyle sitting on the couch watching TV. “Is everyone else still asleep?”

  He nods. “Or at least hiding in their bunks.”

  “Did we have any girl problems last night?”

  He just shakes his head. There is a sense of shame coloring his features. “Did you have a good night?” I ask him and he nods, but he’s not really looking at me. “Get lucky?” I tease, but instantly regret the question when I see him flinch. I take that as my answer and pour myself a cup of coffee.

  “So, panda, you’re the reason we have coffee on board this bus?” Panda? Huh? Oh my god, my hood. I turn to see Talon standing between me and the bathroom, the light of the bathroom illuminating the rather dark hallway.

  “I didn’t ask for it and I certainly didn’t make it.” I try to look at him, only to realize that he is standing there in low riding pajama pants and nothing else. God, even his feet are sexy.

  “How’d you sleep?” he asks with genuine curiosity.

  “Okay, you?”

  He just shrugs and steps around me to the fridge where he pulls out a bottle of Gatorade, opens it and chugs down over half before capping it and putting it back in the fridge before sitting on the couch next to Kyle and watching TV. I turn around and stomp off to the bathroom. What did I do, turn into a fucking pumpkin over night?

  I shrug it off, do my business, run a brush through my mess of a head of hair and pull it back into a pony tail. I don’t get too dramatic with the make-up, but soon I will be walking into a hotel, I’d like to look decent when I do. When I’m done, I ignore the boys and go straight to my room and start packing up some clothes, my make-up and shoes for the next couple of days.

  Then I climb back up onto my bunk after I’m done making it and check my email, check my web searches and I come across some great articles from San Diego about the concert last night. They all make me smile.

  “69 Bottles puts on one hell of a show.”

  “Best concert I’ve seen in years.”

  “Watch out world because 69 Bottles is the real deal.”

  The headlines are all positive and I save several to tell the guys about. In fact, no time like the present. I jump down off of my bunk and grab my laptop, heading toward the front of the bus. Now sitting in the kitchen are Kyle, Talon, Dex (who I can’t even look at this morning), and Mouse.

  “Where’s Peacock?” I ask just as the toilet flushes and the door opens. “Good, take a seat. I have some things to show you guys.”

  That earns me a raised brow from Peacock who maneuvers past me to take a seat on the couch.

  I read the same three headlines and the accompanying story following the real deal comment. By the time I’m done, the boys are glowing with excitement. The last line of the article makes me chuckle. “69 Bottles is so good they brought out Hollywood’s Elite couple.” Including a picture of Cami and Tristan standing in the crowd.

  “Well done, guys,” I say and I let them have their moment of glory. They deserve it.

  I continue scanning through my emails and come across one from Kyle. Odd. I open it. It’s a forwarded message.

  It says, “This was forwarded by the label. After last night’s show, the owner of a chain of venues that we’re already scheduled to stop at is asking for additional shows. Three of the venues already have waiting lists long enough to fill a second night and two of them are asking for two additional nights with accompanying waiting lists. Scheduling will make things tighter, but it is doable. I won’t discuss it with the band until you give the okay. All expansion will now include vendor paid hotel rooms for the nights we’re there. We also have access to the label’s plane if we need to accommodate a faster travel time.”

  I read on in the email to find out that Cincinnati, Philly and DC want to add an additional night, while Atlanta and Denver want to add two additional nights.

  I flip to the calendar I set up for the tour that outlines travel time and time we’re in our destinations and I look at those days.

  And I email Kyle the following information:

  “Cincinnati could add either Friday or Sunday night shows.

  Philly would have to be a Wednesday night gig because we’re in Boston on Saturday and the time frame gets really tight with a Friday show.

  DC we can add Saturday night, and technically Monday night if they want more time. We have plenty between shows.

  Atlanta we would have to do a Monday and Tuesday add because we’re in Orlando on Thursday, again, another tight time frame.

  Denver would have to be a Tuesday and Wednesday, cutting the vacation short.

  From a PR standpoint, I wouldn’t hesitate. Being open and willing to add more shows will show the bands dedication to their fans. From a manager standpoint, it puts a lot of stress and pressure on the guys. After parties will have to be limited or nonexistent in order to avoid total burn out, but then again, you know these guys better than I do. I can always sleep. ;-)”

  I hit send and shortly after I hear a phone chime and watch Kyle pull out his phone, read something, smile, look at me, shrug and reach for the remote, killing the TV.

  The guys grunt and groan. “We were watching that,” Mouse argues.

  “I have more important business to discuss,” Kyle says.

  “What’s more important than the Kardashians?” Mouse snorts.

  “Brain cells.” I laugh. And that grants me some glares, I fight the five year old need to slick out my tongue.

  “Alright, so, I need to discuss a few things with you. Things that will, well, make you guys a hell of a lot more money.”

  “We’re listening,” Dex says with a laugh.

  Kyle goes into explaining the additions and what it will mean to the guys. He also tells them what it will mean in regards to their vacation, their time and performance expectations. When he’s done he puts it to a vote, which I could have told you was unnecessary just watching how animated the guys were about expanding their tour. It’s a unanimous hell yes. I laugh at their enthusiasm and Kyle sets about making the arrangements. Because of the tight timeline, the tickets will have to be put up for sale immediately. I, on the other hand, get to write my first press release for 69 Bottles
and it’s a blast. I would rather write positive press releases all damn day, than to ever have to write a negative one.

  Before I can dive into editing it, we pull into the private entrance area of the MGM Grand in Las Vegas.

  I hop off the bus and head inside to collect room keys and the important information pertaining to their show schedule, rehearsal time, and all that.

  The keys are tucked in envelopes that are labeled with names and room numbers. I find it odd that Kyle doesn’t have his own room. Mouse and Peacock are sharing one room. Dex, Talon and myself all have our own rooms, but where’s Kyle’s?

  When I climb back on board the bus, Kyle is the only one sitting on the couch and I can see the three guys gathering their crap from their bunks. “Why don’t you have a room key?”

  “I usually crash with Talon. He gets the biggest room, which usually means two or three bedrooms.”

  “Oh.”

  Just then Talon comes into the kitchen area. “The room here has three bedrooms.”

  “Ah, okay, that explains why there are two keys.”

  “They should all have two to three keys. Peacock and Mouse should have three so that they each have one, plus Mills gets his. Dex should have two, you should have two and mine gets three. Unless you’d rather give your room up to Mouse, and stay in mine,” he says with that sultry look in his eyes.

  “Yes,” I blurt before I can install the brain to mouth filter.

  “Alright then,” Talon says. “Give your keys to Mouse and I’ll have Mills get a new one for the suite. Don’t worry, panda, you’ll have your own room, with a locking door.” He winks at me. Not that I really care about that. But I have butterflies in my stomach when I think about the fact that I’m sharing a suite with Kyle and Talon. Then I feel like rolling my eyes at his new nickname for me.

  The suite is gorgeous, I mean, it’s Vegas, I hardly think there’s an ugly room on the strip.

  “Take it,” Talon says, pointing to the master room.

  “No way, that’s your room. You need it more than I do.”

  He snorts. “Hardly, please, just take it.”

  “He won’t let you argue with him so you might as well get comfortable in there,” Kyle adds.

  “Fine,” I say sulkily.

  The room is huge, with its own bathroom nearly as big as the bedroom. There’s a wicked awesome bathtub tucked into one corner and the shower has two rain shower heads. A girl could get used to this.

  Once we’re all settled into our rooms, Talon orders a crap ton of room service for us to all share. We eat and then I set off to get ready for tonight’s show. Kyle comes knocking, asking if I want to come to the sound check and I’d love to, especially to watch Talon sing ‘Your Eyes’ again, but I’m not ready yet.

  The bitch about tonight’s outfit is that I need to be completely dry to put it on, or at least the pants. I’m wearing my favorite pants in the entire world tonight. My leather ones. With black leather pumps and a double layered tank top and wide studded belt over the top of my shirts. Though Kyle has seen more than I wanted him to see today, I’m not quite ready to show off my back ink yet. Yes, I know I showed Cami and Tristan, but ya know that was in the heat of conversation and I know that it wasn’t a sexual show off for them. For Talon and Kyle, it would be.

  Ever since I got my back tattoo, I’ve had a fantasy of showing it off in the heat of the moment and while that might not be the case now, I still don’t want to ruin it, should something happen between me and someone else while on board this wild ride of a tour.

  During lunch, Kyle got confirmation that the clubs were moving forward with the added shows and that tickets would be on sale by Monday. Talon was excited that they’d be going on sale so fast and though his excitement is palpable, he’s the least excited of the band about the added shows. I find it odd, but decide not to press it. For all I know, this is as excited as he gets.

  I’m finally dressed in my leather pants, black pumps, studded leather belt, my usual array of jewelry and my badge wrapped around my neck. I go to leave the suite only to find Rusty standing guard at the door.

  “Please tell me you’re not my babysitter again tonight?”

  He smiles. “Not wearing that.” He looks me up and down. “You look great, but I don’t think the guys are going to keel over this time.”

  I snort a laugh. “Then why are you here?”

  “Because they weren’t going to be here to determine if you needed an escort and someone needs to show you where to go.”

  “Oh, okay, so I pass the ‘dressed appropriate’ test?” I put my hands up and turn.

  “Yes, you do,” he smirks again. I follow him down the hall, into the elevator and then into the backstage area. It’s rather confusing so I’m glad he came along. I can hear the guys warming up on stage and I hear the now very familiar strings of ‘Your Eyes’ being played at different speeds and at different points throughout the song. I’m guessing that some last minute tuning and adjustments are being made before they get around to actually singing through the song. With as much time as it took me to finish getting ready, I expected them to be done, but I shrug and am glad I get to enjoy the show.

  I don’t go out front this time, but I stand back and watch. I can see Kyle leaning against a wall on the opposite side of the stage and while he’s not falling over from a heart attack, he is staring at me again. I shake my head and smile at him, but he doesn’t move and he doesn’t take his eyes off of me.

  Then the band stops and I’m distracted by it, only to look on stage and all four sets of eyes are on me. Though Talon portrays the biggest expression of emotion by smiling. The others are just ogling. I roll my eyes.

  I think that I look rather plain Jane tonight, but they obviously don’t seem to think so.

  The sound check goes off without a hitch and once again I found myself dancing as Talon sings ‘Your Eyes’. This time I’m off stage so he doesn’t spend much time looking at me. But when he does, that lusty heat is burning bright.

  This is all so confusing. He looks at me like that, throwing off massive heat, lust and desire, but yet he had some bimbo on his lap all night, one that I’m pretty sure he screwed. I frown at myself. I shouldn’t make assumptions and after Kyle’s expression when I asked about getting lucky, there’s a small chance Talon didn’t either.

  That creepy chill runs through me when I think about Dex with Sam. I haven’t asked for confirmation of their encounter, don’t want it, don’t need it, but given that I’ve yet to hear from Sam, I’m pretty sure my assumption is correct. Add that to the fact that Dex had a goofy, overly satisfied smile on his face this morning. Either that or he gave himself a damn good hand job before falling from his rack. “Ugh,” I shiver.

  I go back to watching Talon, who’s looking at Kyle, watching me. I shiver again, this time it resonates in my core.

  At eight sharp Empty Chamber takes the stage and just like last night they rock out and the crowd gets riled up for 69 Bottles to take the stage. When EC finishes their set they clear off the stage and the boys come walking down the hall toward me-Dex first followed by Peacock and Mouse, then finally Talon. The four bodyguards are doing their thing because there are some VIPs who only spend their time backstage, not actually watching the concert.

  Dex saunters up to me, wrapping his arms around me and planting another ‘wet and sloppy’ on my mouth. “Ugh, Dex, seriously. God only knows where your mouth has been.” He pulls back and winks at me. “Ugh, dude.” I wipe his kiss from my lips just in time to be mauled by Peacock and Mouse, both planting kisses on my cheeks at the same time. “Break a leg, boys,” I tell them and they walk on stage with their typical goofy grins.

  I turn back to find Talon standing in front of me. He’s standing in front of me like a shy school boy about to get scolded. His hands are tucked into his back pockets, his head is down and he’s kicking at some invisible object on the ground, but he’s peering at me through his eyelashes. While I try to mull over why he
’s so bashful all of sudden, I feel Kyle wrapping his arms around my waist. Just like last night, my body is sent directly into sensory overload between Kyle’s touch and Talon’s gentle hands on my cheeks. His lips are soft, warm and oh so tantalizingly delicious. There is a delicious scrape of his scruffy beard along my lips. It sends goosebumps flying across my skin, making my nipples hard.

  I lean into his kiss, soaking up every touch, every sensation, letting my breath be stolen as my tongue is stroked by his.

  Each flick and lick of his tongue against mine is a hot button straight to my throbbing clit and I can feel my panties dampen when Kyle presses his erection into my backside and his lips are on the side of my neck. His goatee bristling my skin, leaving more goosebumps in its wake.

  Desperation causes my breathing to become highly erratic. My head starts to spin because of lack of oxygen and Talon senses it, pulling back on his kiss, “Kick some ass,” I breathe as Talon backs away, winks and turns to face his audience.

  Kyle doesn’t let me go, he kisses my neck once more, but doesn’t say anything, he just holds me. I wonder idly if it’s because he’s hard as a rock against my backside, but then I look at Talon and while it’s hard to tell from the front, from the side, I know he’s hard.

  The idea sends a rush of wild excitement through me that I can barely contain. I let the excitement consume me and I start to dance in Kyle’s arms. It’s becoming clearer to me now. It’s only been two days, but I know that I can’t choose between the two of them, so my options are to let them both go, or embrace them both. One of them wouldn’t be enough for me, but the two of them just might be too much to handle.

  The prospect of trying sends a new wave of pleasure to my sex and I really start to dance.

  The concert is a major hit and maybe even bigger than last night’s show, is that even possible? I guess it is. The band just finished up their little private show, it only lasted about twenty-five minutes and it was a total acoustic set. It was awesome! The guys went into the greenroom afterward and while it was crawling with bimbos there weren’t near as many tonight as last night. I’m sure we have the MGM’s ticket office to thank for that with the high cost of the VIP experience for tonight’s show.