He knew it was because of her, but he didn’t want her to get cocky. “You think that was all you?”
“You think I had nothing to do with it?”
“I didn’t say that.”
Of course, Ethan would defend her. In spite of her summer with Jet, he knew Ethan still thought of Val as his girl. “Bradley, man…you know they were eating it up because of Valerie. I know you don’t want to hear it, but she stole the show. And goddamn. If we get that kinda reaction just ‘cause she’s showing a little skin, then I say we let her.”
Nick, the last holdout, said, “I’m for it.”
Zane added his two cents’ worth. “Me too.”
He wasn’t going to say another word. She—hell, they—knew how he felt. His objections had been duly noted. So he took a deep breath, clenched his jaw, and drove. It was all he could do…all he’d been doing, and he wasn’t going to stop now.
Chapter Forty-two
VAL CONTINUED TO surprise Brad and the band with lots of provocative outfits. Brad tried not to let it bother him, but underneath it all, it did. It would have eaten at him even if he hadn’t had deeper feelings for the woman. He hated that she felt like she needed to use her sex appeal to boost the band. He would’ve been pissed if any of the guys had done something similar.
He knew, though—it bothered him worse with Val because it was her and because of how he felt about her.
He wasn’t going to say another word, though, and he tried to get over it.
In November, a couple of weeks before Thanksgiving, they played their first show with Last Five Seconds since touring with them. He had been planning to talk with Jet a little bit, since they were solid acquaintances, because Jet and Brian, their bassist, had been talking, and it sounded like they might have a recording deal. Brad was eager to talk with Jet, because if their band could make it, he knew Fully Automatic had a great chance. He knew Jet wouldn’t bullshit him. He wanted to ask him what they’d done to get noticed.
When he went backstage to find him, though, he found Val sitting on Jet’s lap, and things were pretty hot and heavy between them. Goddamn. Not only was he going to miss the opportunity to get information from Jet, but he had to find Val back in the guy’s arms. He clenched his jaw and turned. He’d go watch the last band of the evening and try to put that scene out of his mind.
He couldn’t find any of the guys, so he just found a place to stand in the crowd, away from the moshing but close enough to have a good view. It turned out the band only had a couple of songs left. They were good and Brad enjoyed what he saw of the show. In a way, he was glad he’d found Val and Jet in an embrace, because he wouldn’t have appreciated the band if not.
The lights came up and he decided to find everyone else. As he started walking toward the stage, though, he felt a hand on his arm. “Brad?”
He turned around. The blonde in front of him was familiar, and it was a few seconds until he realized it was Leah. Holy shit. He hadn’t seen her in over two years. She was all grown up. Still beautiful, but she was no Valerie. That was when he knew Val had infected him deeply, when his former flame couldn’t even take his mind off the woman. “Leah. How are you?”
“Great. I had no idea you and your band had gotten so big.”
Brad smiled. “Oh, so you saw us performing?”
“Yeah. Gosh, you and Ethan look so different.”
“Time changes everything. You too.” He cleared his throat. “What have you been up to?”
“I’m a junior now, so halfway done with my bachelor degree.”
“How’s that going?”
“Really well.” A clean-cut kid with brown hair and a neat goatee came up behind Leah and put his arm over her shoulders. Yeah…that was the kind of guy Brad had pictured she’d end up with. He’d always known he wasn’t her type, but she’d wanted to play around with the bad boy on the other side of the tracks. He could tell from her smile that she hadn’t regretted her choice. She wanted the rich kid. He couldn’t blame her. He just didn’t understand why someone like Val—someone who didn’t take issue with his hair and tattoos, someone who loved their music and the lifestyle—would continue to reject him.
No, that wasn’t true. He was instead questioning why he continued expecting her to love him. She’d made it clear more than once that he was not the guy for her, so why did he find himself pining for her still, still after all this time?
It was a question for the ages.
* * *
Winter kicked into high gear and brought with it snow, ice, and cold. By January, Brad had managed to let his feelings for Val cool off as well once more, but he feared that they would still be there, just like they always had been. There was a pilot light in his soul for Val, and most of the time, he didn’t even notice it was burning. Something would inevitably happen, though, and it would rekindle his heart, setting the whole goddamn thing aflame until it died down again, leaving a charred mess behind.
She dressed warmly for the trips to their shows, but once she got there, she’d strip down to her skimpy outfits. He wasn’t minding them as much, because he appreciated that she had a great body. She’d grown into a beautiful woman, and as she’d become more comfortable with her position in the band, she’d gotten a few tattoos and piercings, and Brad was pretty sure she’d started working out a little too. She had definition where there’d been none before, and if he’d thought she was sexy before, he’d had no clue.
The new year brought with it new behaviors. He wasn’t quite sure how it had happened, but he and Val started flirting onstage. They didn’t do it much at first. Val had said something to someone in the audience and Brad had responded. The crowd had found it funny, and the applause was amazing, reinforcing for them the idea that they wanted to do it again. Ethan would get pissed sometimes, but that was just more reason for Brad to want to do it. When Ethan was angry, he was fully present, something they weren’t always blessed with. He was happy to take angry Ethan. Zane would get in on it once in a while as well, and it just became something fun they did.
In March, though, Val kicked it up a notch. It went from being cute, funny, and flirtatious to being pretty serious. At least, it was starting to feel that way to Brad. And he was pissed, because every time they’d gone there in the past, Val had wound up shitting all over him.
Maybe that wasn’t completely fair. Maybe it was partly his fault too. After all, he’d promised both her and her father that he’d keep his hands to himself. If she kept up the onstage antics, he didn’t know that he could stop himself from making a move on her either. He assumed, though, that the flirting was simply another thing she was doing to try to boost their audience participation and get more fans, just like her lingerie trick had been, so he was trying hard not to get his hopes up. He’d been disappointed one too many times before when it came to Val.
Bottom line…Val had been through two incredibly intense relationships in the course of a year. She’d loved both Ethan and Jet hard, and even though her reunion with Jet had seemed to last for one night only, he knew her feelings for both of those men had run deep. He was convinced that Val considered him only a friend and that was all they ever would be, in spite of their past.
But they were playing a show on his birthday. He hadn’t minded when he’d scheduled it. His birthday was on a Friday and he couldn’t turn down a show. But—mid-set—Val had stopped the show and sung “Happy Birthday” to him, just like the old Marilyn Monroe version the blonde bombshell had sung for JFK. It wrecked him. She was breathy and seductive, like Marilyn had been decades ago, but unlike the actress, Val was hardly wearing a thing. It was insane. And she called him her “hot guitarist,” no less. She was fucking killing him.
A guy in the audience yelled, “Whatcha gonna give him for his birthday?”
She said in the microphone without missing a beat, “I bet you’d like to know, but it’s not something we should talk about in public.”
If only. The problem with all the flirting was he lost
his eye for other women. Again. He just couldn’t do it.
It was fucking stupid.
And, yet, there wasn’t a goddamn thing he could do about it.
* * *
Since the birthday song, Brad started thinking about Val again all the time. He had it bad. And all he could do was try to bury it like he always had.
She wouldn’t let him, though. She’d been teasing him onstage so much, it had started to spill over into their real lives, and he wasn’t quite sure what to think about it. Part of him toyed with the idea of pursuing her in earnest, but then he remembered the promise he’d made her…and her dad. He didn’t want to mess up the band, and he’d promised her father her honor would remain intact with him. He didn’t plan to go back on his word, no matter how deep his desire.
Still…she was making it difficult. He wasn’t even looking at other women anymore. If there really was such a thing as lovesickness, he had it. He had it bad.
He wasn’t about to stop flirting, though, because he was having fun and the audience seemed to enjoy their banter. One night at a concert in April, someone threw a handful of condoms onstage, and they appeared to be aimed at Valerie. Well, having things thrown at them wasn’t completely unusual. Some girl had thrown a pair of panties at him last fall. As long as the fans weren’t throwing rocks or tomatoes, he was cool with it. On this particular evening, Valerie had picked up one of the wrapped condoms. She held it up and started wagging it toward the audience. She said, “Glad to see you folks are practicing safe sex.”
He didn’t even think twice about joining in. It had become their thing. He stepped up to the mike and said to her, “Not very safe if they’re throwing them up here instead of hanging onto them.” He’d considered saying…more, but he respected Valerie too much to be too crude onstage. He didn’t want to give all the perverts with their tongues hanging out any ideas. Just the thought that half these guys would be whacking off later thinking about her made his blood grow cold.
Speaking of perverts, some asshole yelled, “Let me at ‘em. You’ll never be the same, Valerie.”
Brad saw red and couldn’t think straight. He wanted to go beat the shit out of the moron, but he instead grew even calmer. He’d never keep fans if he went around kicking their asses. Instead, he was going to play it cool. He could do that. So he smirked and said, “Now why the hell would she want you when she’s got my sexy bod?” The women in the audience started screaming. He hadn’t expected that reaction. It felt nice, though. So he pushed it further. “And she’s never been the same since.” Really, it wasn’t difficult. They’d been engaging in this sort of repartee for weeks now.
Wow. That look. He hadn’t seen her look at him like that in a long damn time. She was checking him out. For reals. She was literally eyeing him up and down. He swallowed hard. No. He must have been imagining it, right? Val didn’t think about him that way anymore, did she? Did she?
She winked at him then and started flopping that stupid condom around. She breathed into the microphone, “You know, Brad, I don’t think this would fit you anyway. You need the large size, right?” After a beat, he started laughing. He couldn’t believe she’d said that. It was an ego booster, even though she had no idea the size of his cock. The girls in the audience started screaming again and he swallowed once more. He yelled into the mike, “Hit it, guys.” And he didn’t know what overtook him, but he walked the short distance over to Valerie who stood center stage, and he cupped her cheeks in his hands and pressed his lips against hers.
It was fucking electric. He didn’t know why he was surprised by her reaction, but it was as though no time between them had passed. He wasn’t content with just a short platonic kiss, either. He brushed her lips with his tongue and when she responded by opening her mouth, he didn’t hesitate to claim her. And when he let go, he knew he’d left her breathless, and that meant one of two things—either she was starting to feel the same way again, or he’d shocked the shit out of her. How he managed to play his guitar on cue, he’d never know.
And the rest of the show he played by rote. His lips couldn’t forget the feel of hers against his, and he could remember how she’d smelled up close—sweet, like vanilla, and her skin had been warm and soft. That had been a stupid fucking move, planting a kiss on her, because now he’d never get her out of his head. He could remember every time he’d ever touched her, every time he’d tasted her, and his obsession would begin all over again. There would be no stopping it.
He was pissed with himself then, and he was deep in thought as they loaded up their equipment. He didn’t say a word, though, and he was glad none of the guys did either. Val acted like nothing had happened. He felt a little relief at that. Not much, though.
Later that evening as they were driving back to the apartment, he finally found the words. He looked over toward the passenger seat where she was sitting and he said, “Hey…sorry about earlier.”
Val had been looking out the window but she turned to him. It was dark but he could see her expression thanks to all the streetlights they were driving past. “Hmm?” She seemed lost in thought. “What?”
Saying it again was going to be hard. “Onstage. Kissing you. Sorry about that. I know you weren’t expecting it.”
She smiled and giggled. God, she was so cute when she did that. “Hey, the audience liked it. That’s what matters, right? It didn’t bother me.”
Yeah…but now he wasn’t getting the sense that she felt the same way. Of course, she didn’t. It felt like a fucking punch in the gut, but yeah. Stupid ass. She was still in love with either Jet or Ethan. Of course. Brad’s kiss hadn’t meant a thing. To her, it had just been a stunt. An effective one, but a stunt nonetheless. So he nodded and tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice. “Yeah, I was just kind of rolling with the punches.”
She smiled again. God, she was beautiful. She had no idea. He’d been angry when at first she’d decided to dress provocatively onstage, but she’d bloomed and embraced her womanhood, and he was okay with it now. But he had to keep reminding himself she wasn’t for him, no matter how badly he thought he wanted her. He tried to keep his eyes on the road. She said, “It worked.” She turned to look back out the window.
He nodded, acting as casual as he possibly could. Yeah, he had to bury it deep. Really deep. And pray this time it stayed there.
But, try as he might, he didn’t know if he could keep up with the charade.
Chapter Forty-three
BRAD MANAGED TO arrange a mini-tour much like the one they’d enjoyed a year earlier. It was set for mid-July. It was four shows only but four bands on tour, and the venues were all new. Brad had managed to book bigger places than they were used to playing, and he arranged it early enough that (he hoped) the venues could generate a lot of interest.
Because their schedule on this tour was tighter and the locations farther apart than the tour the year before, Brad created several lists, including a driving schedule. He, Val, and Zane would take turns driving. No one questioned it, except for Val, asking why it was only the three of them. Brad simply told her the truth. He knew if Val or Zane had to get behind the wheel, they’d be sober. He knew for a fact that both Ethan and Nick had driven when they shouldn’t have, and Brad didn’t want to risk their lives or his van just because one of them was being irresponsible. He only planned to give Val or Zane the keys when he needed sleep, so he had to know the van was in good hands.
The tour was fast and frenetic. It was energizing, something their shows had been lacking for the last few weeks. He wasn’t sure why.
Their last show was in Texas and it kicked ass. They made more money from that show than any other on their tour, but the entire tour had amazed Brad with the money it brought in. He and the other bands had hoped for that, though, and they’d planned ahead in anticipation. They’d sprung for three suites the final night, because he knew they’d want to party hard before heading back home. Val, of course, still had her own room and it was down the hall, and wh
en the guys complained about that, saying she could sleep on a couch or something, she paid for her own room and told them to “shut the fuck up already.” She apologized to Brad for making things difficult, and he said, “Val, you know I’ve always supported you having your own room. No need to tell me you’re sorry. I’ll slip you a little extra cash to pay for it.”
“No, I got it. It’s cool.”
The suites were bigger than he’d imagined, and the accommodations were a little nicer than they were used to. He just hoped they wouldn’t trash them and get bills for damage later. They hadn’t had that problem on the road thus far, but they’d always stayed in lower-rent places that wouldn’t notice any damage the band happened to inflict.
He showered before joining the party. It was hotter there than he was used to anyway, but add to that the stage lights and playing his ass off, and he needed a long, cool shower to feel normal again.
When he got to the party, all the bands were there, as well as lots of people he didn’t know. There were lots of girls around, so he knew someone had decided to spread the word—it was no longer a bands-only party. That was probably better, though, because otherwise Val would get all the attention of all the horny twenty-something guys there. He looked around and didn’t see her, so he figured maybe she’d decided to call it a night. Probably a smart move.
He looked around and spied all manner of fine women. It was a shame he didn’t feel like making a move on any of them. He’d realized over the past year that picking up women was getting easier, but he didn’t think it was because he’d gotten any better at the process. He figured it was because they were starting to view him as a rock star, and rock stars got women. It was as simple as that.
The problem was he didn’t want any of them. There was only one woman he wanted, and the feeling wasn’t mutual. He was growing angry with himself for not finding a way to let her go, but he knew that as long as they kept up the flirtatious stage act, he’d never get her out of his head.
Fully Automatic (Bullet) Page 33
