I snort out a laugh. “You have a safe room?”
“Sweets, I was raised by a devout Catholic mother who on her deathbed still prayed for my heathen gay soul, a violent father who served time for robbing banks, and an ex-lover who thought fucking random dudes was like sport fishing—the more fish you reel in the merrier. Yeah, I’ve got a safe room. And that’s not even close to my top level of crazy.”
I reach out and hug him. “You’re my people.”
“How do you have such a big heart?”
“What?” I laugh into him, still hugging him.
“Your childhood might in fact be worse than Vi’s and that’s saying some serious shit. I still don’t know how you both love with such openness.”
I pull away, shrugging up a shoulder. “Because if I end up like them, they win. My parents and my past do not dictate who I am or how I live my life. I do.”
“For someone so young, you are incredibly wise.”
Suddenly a voice crackles through our earpieces. “Five minutes.”
A swell of excitement surges through me, bursting forth with a smile to match. “EEEK. Showtime.”
Before Marco and I can even make for the door, it flies open and I’m instantly swept off my feet. Again. A hand smacks harshly against my ass cheek, one, then the other. Again. And just like earlier, I moan into his back. “My naughty girl, you like the punishment too much.”
He wants me naughty. I can destroy him.
“You just have to make it rougher. So I learn my lesson, that is.”
I smirk into his back as he growls out more swears than I’ve ever heard in my life.
He shifts me until his mouth presses into my temple. “You want me hard while I’m playing tonight? You want my mind on your pussy instead of my drums?”
His hand cups me through the fabric of my skinny jeans.
My mind goes fuzzy with that move. “Is that a legitimate question?”
I get another series of smacks before I’m forced to slide down his body. We’re on the periphery of the stage. It’s all blackness, but it’s far from silent. The crowd is going insane, impatiently cheering for their rock gods. It’s an incredible, heady vibe. The kind that seeps into every cell inside your body and ignites it.
The vibrations rush through me like a drug and my resulting smile is unstoppable. “I’m so excited I can hardly take it. I’m going to stand here all night and watch you.”
He leans in to whisper into my ear. “You’re falling hard for me, darlin’. Ain’t nothin’ you can do about it. I guess it sucks to be you.” He shrugs at me, planting a kiss on my lips, and then he runs out onto the stage.
“You’re a jerk,” I yell out after him, even though I shouldn’t. “Ugh!” I bellow just as the sticks in his hand start out a heavy beat that signals their first song of the night. Purple and blue stage lights flash across his face, and I catch him winking at me. I flip him off and he blows me a kiss. “Smug bastard,” I grumble just as Henry, Gus, and then finally Jasper find their way past me. “Kill it out there tonight, guys.”
Henry too plants a kiss on my cheek as he passes and both Gus and Jasper throw me dazzling smiles. They live for this. You can just tell. The adrenaline rush. The endorphins. The high of playing to a live audience. The fans feel it too. Feed off it.
“Damn, this is going to be such a good show,” Marco marvels directly beside me, and I turn to him, bouncing up and down on the toes of my shoes.
The guys break out into a song from the last album and the night takes off from there. They play for a solid two hours, only taking a break here or there as Jasper talks to the audience and the guys catch their breaths with a few sips of water. I’ve been a fan of them for what feels like forever. I sat up in the nosebleed seats just to watch them live.
They’re my band and now they’re my bosses and friends and my… boyfriend? I guess that’s what he is, though calling Keith a boy feels almost ridiculous. All I know is that I never want this feeling to go away. Ever.
“Did you go to college?” I ask Marco during a small lull in the action. It’s nearing the end of the night. The boys are drenched in sweat, but their enthusiasm and energy level hasn’t waned.
“Yes. I was a business major and right after, I moved out to California and got a job as a gofer for a record label exec. Worst and best job I ever had. Then I became a PA, like you, for a few bands and eventually managed one before I got introduced to the guys. We clicked instantly and it’s been this way since.”
I glance in his direction, staring into his dark eyes that pick up flecks of the multicolored stage lights making them look like fireworks against a black sky. “I’m starting to rethink everything I thought I wanted. I love what I’m doing. It makes me really happy. I always thought I wanted to be a school counselor because their work is so important. But now, I’m not so sure anymore.”
“This work is not all glamor and rainbows. It’s taking and eating a lot of shit. From the bands, from the record companies, from the vendors and everyone else who wants a piece of the action. It’s cutthroat and catty, and at times, can be very fake. I’m not saying this to dissuade you, I’m just saying that you’re lucky with who you work for now, but if you continue in this business, it can break your soul sometimes. My best advice is to finish college and study stuff you find interesting. The rest will fall into place.”
I turn back to watching the band, thinking about that. Fall semester starts in a week and I didn’t register for it because of money and my arm and this new job and this tour that is not really a tour. It just felt like a little too much to take on. But I think Marco is right. And I think I won’t let any more life excuses prevent me from finishing my degree.
And just as the words float through my head, I feel my phone vibrate in my back pocket. Slipping it out, I see my father’s number. I stare dumbstruck as it continues to vibrate in my hand, his name glowing in the darkness.
“Everything okay?” Marco asks, and I nod even though that’s a lie. I don’t pick up. I just dismiss the call and slip it back into my pocket, trying to ignore the vitriol cooking up to a mad boil in my brain. A minute later I feel it vibrate again, only this time it’s indicating he left a voice message.
What could he possibly want with me now?
The moment the guys leave the stage, sweaty and exhausted, I’m scooped up once again, tossed like a doll over Keith’s shoulder. “Asshat,” I bark. “I broke my arm, not my leg.”
“But your ass looks so much better next to my face. Less having to look down.”
He tosses me onto the sofa in the greenroom. I fall back into the cushions, watching as the guys grab bottles of alcohol and strip out of sweaty shirts. They toast each other, laughing and smiling, giving hugs as they complement one another.
Keith points at me as he lifts his signature bottle of Jack Daniels to his lips, downing a swig. “I’m taking you somewhere tonight.”
I snort. “Is that caveman speak for we’re going on a date? Because I thought you didn’t do those.” I grin cheekily at him.
“I don’t.” He grins back. “That’s not what this is.”
“I thought you spoke Keith by this point,” Gus bursts out, dropping into the seat beside me and tossing his sweaty, gross arm over my shoulder. I attempt to shrug him off, but he just wiggles in closer. I never had big brothers, but I imagine their level of annoying broaches close to that.