I suck in my bottom lip before changing the subject. “So you looking forward to your first headlining tour?”
“Stoked. Who would’ve thought we’d get this far?” Brent replies as he manages to shift over three lanes in one movement and get off an exit. “I mean we get to play to crowds that get bigger and bigger each time around, so it’s pretty awesome.”
I smile at him, not quite sure what to say. I know this life just like he does. It’s the living out of a dream, but at the same time, the dream isn’t exactly how anyone pictures it. The bands are broke pretty much all of the time.
“Can I ask you a question?” Brent breaks the silence that’s fallen over us.
“Sure, since I’ve been pestering you with questions,” I reply, smiling over at him.
He taps the steering wheel before asking, “What does your family think of this life?”
I bite my lip before glancing over at Brent. He looks at me from the corner of his eyes as he waits for a response.
“Honestly, I don’t really talk about it with them. I prefer them not to know all the details.”
Brent’s eyes return to the road. He flips the signal, and we pull into a commuter lot where a black tour bus has blocked out the sun.
“Disapproval seems to be an industry standard for parents with kids into metal music,” he replies as he puts the car in park. “There she is. Two bathrooms and everything.”
“Are you guys really that gross?” I ask as I step out into the warm air. “I mean I’ve toured with bands like Monsters Five….they were pigs.”
“No wonder it took them like a year to break up,” Brent replies as he grabs my luggage. “We’re not that bad. You can’t be in such a small space. There’s such a mix of personalities, being a pig just doesn’t bode well for actually liking one another. Plus, you want to be as clean as possible to make sure no one gets sick, you know?”
“I think I’m going to like touring with you guys,” I reply as I follow him to the bus.
He glances over his shoulder, his lips curling to one side. “You haven’t met Kie yet.”
Chapter 8
“So this is home,” Brent says as he puts my bags down.
I suck my lip in as I look around the space. Over the years the tour buses have all blurred together. I’ve been on tiny ones and ones like this that are far nicer than most. I know better, though– the comfort of living in the space is mostly reliant on the guys I’m touring with. The last band I traveled with I didn’t spend much time on the tour bus because they were stoned or drunk whenever they weren’t on stage or doing a signing, and sometimes even for those. I never stay on the tour bus when a band is getting loaded. I inhale as I hope this tour won’t be like that, partially because I already like Brent, and I don’t want that to change, and partly because I hate staying in cheap hotel rooms.
“What do you think?” Brent asks, and I nod, running my hand through my hair.
“It’s great. It’s definitely one of the better ones I’ve been on,” I reply.
“So this is obviously the kitchen and living area, but…” Brent walks forward. “We have another living area at the back, which would be where the guys are hiding. Here’s the first bathroom–just a toilet–the guys are going to use that one for their business, and here’s the other one–shower included. This bathroom is yours for…umm…your business, but we all share the shower because you don’t want us to not shower after a show.”
I laugh at the way his face turns red.
“Uh, so here are the bunks,” he says, his hand in his pockets as he turns in the hall. “You can choose whichever one you want.”
“This one’s good,” I reply, signaling to the bunk on the bottom left. “I prefer to not roll out from the top.”
Brent rubs his neck, nodding to the one across the way. “Agreed, this one is mine.”
My heart flutters a bit, but I check it.
Cute. That’s it. Don’t think anything else.
“So back here,” Brent says, sliding the door open. “Is the area where the guys veg out.”
There are two guys that I recognize playing video games, Brad and Kie. Neither looks up to acknowledge me until Brent walks to the television and shuts it off.
“Manners, kids. Manners,” Brent says as they curse at him. “Meet Natalie.”
I swallow as I feel Kie’s eyes drift over me openly, and I clench my fists at my side before smiling at them.
“Nice to meet you. I’m the hot one, Kie, ” he says, standing and holding his hand out. I reluctantly shake it as his lips curl at their edges, accentuating his square jaw and green eyes. He raises his eyebrows before plopping back down on the built-in couch and puts his hands behind his head to continue to stare at me. The guy is absolutely covered in tattoos, from his hands up to his neck and what’s showing of his chest in the loosely fitting grey v-neck he wears. He’s scrawny compared to Brent. I’m pretty sure the hot one is standing next to me tipping on his heels as he waits for Brad to introduce himself.
Brad stands, shoving his hair out of his face as he stands and holds his hand out for me to shake. “Brad, drums and painfully awkward at introductions.”
“Not at all,” I reply, nodding to the jackass behind him. “That’d be Kie.”
Kie’s smug smile vanishes and Brad tips his head back as he laughs. “I think I like you already.”
“Fuck you,” Kie says to Brad as he nudges him in the shoulder and sits back down.
“Doesn’t it get hard to play when you can’t see?” I ask as his hair falls back into his face again.
His head rocks from shoulder to shoulder as he purses his lips. “I don’t really need to see to play drums. I’m banging my head most of the time anyways.”
“I can’t wait to catch that on camera,” I reply, smiling at him as awkward silence sets in. “I guess I’ll let you guys get back to…”
“Borderlands,” Kie replies, putting his feet back on the table as he grabs his remote.
Brent rolls his eyes before turning and putting the television back on.
“Oh, and dude, don’t act like you’re above video games! You brought this one!” Kie calls at Brent’s back as we leave the room.
Brent sits on his bunk. “It is my game.”
“You can go play, if you want,” I say as I grab my luggage and unzip it, pulling open my drawer.
Brent shakes his head before leaning back in his bunk. “So how did you get in this business?”
“Honestly,” I reply as I take a deep breath. “I started taking pictures of bands in high school–at VFWs and stuff. I had friends in the bands, so they would have me do their promo shots. I pretty much got hooked on it then–except I was doing film, because I was in photography classes, and that was cheaper when the school had the black room and discounted materials. Now digital is the way to go.”
“No college for you then?”
I drop my undergarments in the drawer before placing the yoga pants I wear as pajamas on top of them. I looked over my shoulder at him. “Drop out.”
Brent turns his head to look at me. “Really?”
I lift my shoulders and let them drop. “I’ve made it pretty far without a full degree. I taught myself most of the things I need to know. I’m not very good with photoshop, but I figure if I take good pictures then I don’t need all the advanced editing shit. Besides, if I photoshop it, is it really my picture anymore?”
“Kind of like auto-tune,” Brent says, lips pursed. “I get it.”
“Not like they need to auto-tune your scream,” I reply as I take the last of my clothes out, and hold up my tea and honey. “Do I need to hide this?”
Brent shakes his head, sitting up and leading me to the kitchen. “None of us will steal that.”
“Seriously?” I ask as I dump them into the drawer in the kitchen he opens for me.
He leans back against the small counter space between the wall and the oven. “Yeah, I don’t drink it, and I’m damned sure no one else d
oes.”
“You’re a screamer, though,” I reply, and then I bite my lip before my eyes drift to the sun streaming through the tinted windows. I can’t hide the disapproval in my voice as I continue, “So you use the numbing shit?”
“No,” Brent replies. “But I can tell you don’t approve.”
I shake my head, closing my eyes as I say, “It’s none of my business if you do–sorry.”
“It’s fine. I pretty much just warm my vocal chords up and then scream my heart out.” His voice drifts. “It’s what I do best.”
I glance over at him, and he’s looking at his feet with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders tense.
“Is that all?”
“Is that all what?” he asks.
“That you can do?” I reply.
“I’m a screamer for the band.”
I turn, giving him a smile. “But that’s not what I asked.”
His mouth opens, and he lifts his hand to rub his neck. His lips move to talk, but nothing comes out.
“Well, hello!” James says as he opens the door. “The lady of the hour has arrived!”
“Hi, James,” I reply as he pulls me into a hug. “It’s great to meet you finally.”
“And you! Did you meet the other guys?” he asks, pulling away from me.
“Yeah, they’re great,” I reply.
“Where’s Kie then?” James teases, looking over at Brent.
“She’s too kind,” Brent replies, smirking at me as I look over my shoulder at him. I look away as my breath catches.
“You don’t seriously expect me to bring all this shit in just because you’re scrawny, do you?” Aiden asks as he walks up the steps carrying two packages of bottled water. He puts them down, his hands going into fists as he winces. “Oh, hi–Natalie, right?”
“You must be Aiden,” I say with a smile.
“I didn’t realize you were in from the airport yet. Traffic must not have been too bad?” Aiden asks as Brent comes forward and picks up the water to move it to where they store it.
“Not at all, Brent seemed to know his way around pretty well,” I explain. “I can help get some of whatever stockpile you have?”
“Sure.” Aiden nods. “That’d be great.”
I follow the guys to the car filled with supplies, but by the time I get to it, all that’s left is toilet paper.
“You really think of everything, huh?” I ask.
“Actually,” James begins, smiling over his shoulder at me before going up the steps of the tour bus. “My fiance makes a list for me to pick up. She’s a saver, so she makes each of the guys deposit a certain amount of money into our ‘tour account’ on a weekly basis so we have enough money to have food and all that during tour.”
“Smart lady. You wouldn’t believe how many bands I’ve seen eat those twenty-five cent noodles all during the tour. Makes the bus smell like plastic and salt.”
“Been there, done that,” Aiden says as he sits down. I watch him from the corner of my eyes. He has a similar dapper haircut to Brent, except the top is a lot longer. His blue eyes lift from his hands, and I look away, my face turning red. He totally caught me staring. My eyes find Brent’s and he smirks at me. He caught me too. I’m left somewhere between mortification and forgetting about it because of the way Brent’s lips curl into his cheeks. His eyes tease me just like those lips.
I can get used to Aiden’s good looks.
It’s Brent that worries me. The heart palpitations his smile gives me are enough to do me in, not to mention that body…and the perfect hair–and soft eyes, or the too good to be true personality.
He’s taken!
They’re all taken!
I press my eyes shut.
You’re taken.
Chapter 9
“You could’ve warned me,” I mutter as I lean my head back and close my eyes.
“That James was a ball-buster on this place being sanitized?” Brent asks, looking over at me with his eyes half-closed.
I nod as I pull my cell phone out of my back pocket.
“What time is it anyways?” I look down at the screen. “Crap!”
“What?” Brent asks, his brow furrowing as I shoot up out of my seat.
“Fifteen missed calls,” I say as I rush out of the room and pass James who’s organizing the food in the kitchen. After cleaning the whole place top to bottom, most of us crashed. Only Brad is left helping him.
“You okay?” Brad asks, looking at me through his hair as I rush down the stairs.
“Yeah,” I call over my shoulder. “I forgot to make a phone call earlier.”
Like seven hours ago. It’s amazing how quickly the time passed. The warm California night air hits me in the face and my skin prickles as I take a deep breath and dial the number.
“Luke–listen, I’m so sorry–” I begin.
“Nat, seriously? What were you doing that you couldn’t, in the ten hours since you left, text me at least?” Luke asks, his voice hard.
“I’m so sorry. It just slipped my mind.”
“But you could post pictures to your feed?”
I squeeze my eyes shut as I lean against the metal of the bus, letting the coolness of it shock my system. I hope it will shock my brain into giving me an explanation. It doesn’t.
“I’m a photographer.”
“I know, Nat. Believe me, I know.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, gritting my teeth together.
Luke’s deep sigh echoes through the phone. “I don’t know…” His voice fades, and I swallow the lump rising in my throat. Hours in and this was already heading down the shitter. “I’m always going to come second, aren’t I?”
“Luke, I warned you how this would be…” I say as I look up at the stars. My voice cracks as my head falls to my chest. “Luke?”
Finally, he speaks, “You didn’t really warn me. I mean look at that kid.”
“Which one?” I ask.
“The one who took a selfie of you two and posted it on his feed.”
Brent.
“All of the guys are attractive–” I say as my face flushes with heat, the anger kicks out the sadness of the impending break-up.
“Yeah, but that guy.”
“I told you,” I cut him off, my heart hammering so hard I can feel it making my blood rush faster. “You need to trust me.”
I can picture him on the other end, head in his hand as his eyes squeeze tightly shut. The image wicks away some of the anger.
His voice is soft as he says, “Nat, it’s just that…we haven’t known each other long enough for me to. I’m sorry…this isn’t going to work. Your lifestyle…I’m sorry.”
A part of me wants to fight him on it. To tell him I warned him. To tell him he said he would try, and he obviously isn’t. But, the truth is, I gave up before I even left. I knew this would happen. It always does.
“Yeah, I understand,” I reply before clicking the end button. The deep breath I begin to take stops midway as Brent’s frame comes into view. “Oh…hey.”
“I didn’t mean to overhear,” Brent replies as he flicks a cigarette between his fingers before lighting it.
I cringe a bit as the smell of it wafts in the air, and Brent’s eyes fall from mine to the thin white stick between his fingers and lips. He lets the smoke out of his mouth before tossing it to the ground and grinding it in.
I blink at him, and his eyes come back up to mine, making my heart beat in a way I wish it wouldn’t. “You didn’t have to do that.”
Brent shrugs. “It’s not very good for you anyways.”
He laughs, and I can’t help but join him. I watch as he leans next to me, asking, “So…boyfriend?”
I nod as I squeeze the bridge of my nose. “Now, ex.”
“That sucks…” Brent replies, scratching his chin as his eyes flicker over my face. “But you don’t seem too upset.”
I look down at my jeans, running my fingers over the scarce fibers covering the hole in
the thigh. “I’m used to it by now. I’ve pretty much gone through a boyfriend every six months for the past three years.”
I cringe as I realize it sounds like I’m a slut. I don’t want to think about the fact I feel like I am. The math runs through my head quickly, and I stop as my face heats.
I don’t want to think about it.
“I get it,” Brent replies after a moment. “This lifestyle’s rough…is that how long you’ve been touring with bands?”
I nod. “My relationships usually last a few weeks into a tour…right around the time the guy decides he needs to learn more about the band is when it ends…when they realize there are some attractive band members. With Luke, it took all of a few hours.”
“Was that what it was this time?” Brent asks, and I look at him, sucking in a breath through my teeth.
“Yeah…I posted some of the pictures I’ve been taking on social media.”
He looks ahead, pulling his lip through his teeth before letting his eyes meet mine. “Which one of us was it?”
I let the breath I’m holding out as I look ahead, and my knuckles go white from holding the edge of the fender so hard.
“No shit,” he replies.
“Yeah,” I say as I tilt my head against the metal of the tour bus and look at him from the corner of my eyes.
Luke pretty much nailed the fact I find Brent to be gorgeous, even his quarter size gauges look good. I’ve never seen a guy with gauges that could pull it off until now. It doesn’t help he has puppy brown eyes and a smile that just about takes everyone down a notch in the look department. He looks bad ass, but innocent all at the same time.
But none of these guys are innocent.
Brent kicks the stones beneath his feet before running a hand through his faux hawk. “You’ve known me a few hours, and I already wrecked one of your relationships.”
“Don’t feel bad about it,” I say, giving him a smile. “Doesn’t matter how many rules I have. The guys I date don’t believe I follow them. Even in this case where all of you are in relationships.”
Behind the Lens (Boys of Fallout Book 2) Page 4
