Charlie scoffed. “You might have to find your claws to survive the next two weeks, kitten. You look like you’re about to pass out, and you’ve just gotten here.”
“Hey, don’t be a jerk,” Ezra jumped in and nudged Charlie aside before steering me to an armchair across from the sofa. “Don’t listen to him, Ivy. You’ll be fine. We’re all going to be keeping an eye on you.”
I knew Ezra was trying to reassure me, but my stomach dropped. So much for being on equal ground. I didn’t want them to feel like they had to babysit me.
“Don’t worry about me,” I said to Ezra and forced a smile. “I’m sure you’re all super busy with the tour. By the way, where’s Cole?
The drummer’s cheeks reddened. “He’s…meeting someone. He should’ve been back by now. Let me give him a call.”
A temper I usually kept well-hidden flared inside me. First, my brother didn’t meet me in the airport, and now he couldn’t even make it back here on time? Whenever we’d spoken about me coming, he’d seemed excited, but I was starting to worry maybe I’d misread him. What if he didn’t really want me here?
I bit on my fingernail and watched as Ezra stepped out of the room before I turned to the rest of the band, who’d settled back on the sofa. “When are you guys going on stage?”
Silas pulled out his phone. “In about one hour. The opening band is going on right now, then it will be us for an hour-long set, and then the headliner.”
The headliner was Ritual Disruption—a massively popular heavy metal band. I didn’t listen to a ton of metal, preferring indie rock, but I’d done my research on them as soon as I’d found out they’d be on the same ticket as Bleeding Moonlight.
What I’d found was…a bit concerning. They seemed to be as troubled as they were famous, at least when it came to their lead singer, Jamie Berg. He was rumored to have a drug problem and was a reported diva who often skipped interviews and showed up late to his own performances. I wondered if the guys of Bleeding Moonlight had to interact a lot with him.
“How’s the tour been so far?” I asked, playing with a loose string from my ripped jeans.
Silas shrugged. “It’s been good for our exposure. We’re finding a lot of new fans.”
Charlie picked up a beer bottle from the floor and tipped it to his mouth. “We’re going to be headlining our next world tour. I can feel it,” he said. “This is just a step toward world domination.”
I couldn’t fault Charlie for his ambition. Bleeding Moonlight was on a strong trajectory as far as I could tell. They had three albums under their belt, and Cole had told me they were planning on working on the fourth as soon as this tour was over. The first three albums had received critical acclaim, and I had no doubt the fourth could propel them into the next level of stardom. I wanted my brother to succeed, even though I was currently growing more and more irritated with his continued absence.
We chatted for a little while longer, the guys catching me up on their earlier shows and asking me about myself. Ezra returned and told us that Cole would be here in ten. The conversation turned to last night’s show, and I sat in silence for a few minutes before deciding to escape to the bathroom. I caught Ezra’s eye. “I’d like to change from my airport clothes. Is there a bathroom I could use?”
The drummer jumped to his feet. “Of course. Let me show you where it is.”
He led me out into the hallway, and we took a few turns before stopping by a door marked with a large “W”.
“Here’s the women’s dressing room,” Ezra said. “You think you can find your way back when you’re done?”
“Definitely,” I assured him.
The drummer smiled at me kindly and left.
Inside the dressing room, I unzipped my backpack. Despite spending an atrocious amount of time planning my outfits, now that I was here, I hated most of what I’d packed. If I had any hope of fitting in with the bands on this tour and everyone in their orbit, I needed to look the part. Thing is, I had no idea what that meant. So far, I’d only seen one woman since I’d arrived backstage, and she’d looked like a venue employee. I wished I’d paid more attention to what the girls lining up around the parking lot were wearing.
Out of my two friends, Zoey was a master with makeup, but Sophie was the one who knew more about fashion. She’d packed me a few dresses that were way bolder than anything I’d ever worn, but I knew what she’d say if I messaged her for advice. When in doubt, overdress.
I pulled on a slinky black dress that Sophie had gifted me. It reached to my mid-thigh, was held up by two thin straps, and cinched at the waist. The fabric shimmered in the light of the plain dressing room due to the wispy gold threads woven inside. The dress was beautiful, and I thought it made me look older.
I walked up to the mirror and inspected my face. Brown freckles stood out on my makeup-less nose, and the skin under my eyes was puffy. I didn’t wear makeup often, but I had gone through a few intense masterclasses with Zoey in the past few weeks. Following the instructions she’d given me, I applied some blush, eyeshadow, and mascara and took a selfie for my friends.
“Nailed it?”
Sophie’s response came within a few seconds.
“HELL YEAH. Nailed IT, now go nail HIM. But send pics first so I can give you the thumbs up.”
Giggling to myself in the empty dressing room, I took one final look in the mirror.
Looking back at me was a long-haired man.
I gasped and turned to face him, stumbling over my feet. He crossed the distance between us with two wobbly steps and gripped my elbow in an attempt to steady me. He didn’t seem too steady himself.
Within moments, I recognized him. It was Jamie Berg, the lead singer of Ritual Disruption. What was he doing in the women’s dressing room? He reeked of booze, and as we stood inches away from each other, his hand still on my arm, he swayed on his feet.
“Wha-what are you doing here?” I asked, pulling out of his grip and taking a step back.
“Looking for something different.”
Despite the situation, something in me stirred at the sound of his voice. It was almost a purr, all velvet and seduction. My heart hammered in my chest. In all the photos I’d seen of him, he’d been so beautiful he’d seemed unreal. But whatever beauty he’d had possessed when the photos were taken was now overshadowed by the fact that he was clearly unwell.
He was too thin. His skin was stretched taut across the sharp contours of his face and his cheekbones stood out more prominently than they should. I could see his collarbones peeking up from above his ripped T-shirt. The blue veins in his arms trailed up his forearms, visible even under the tattoos, and there was a greenish tint to the skin of his face. The only thing about him that still truly resembled the photos I’d seen were his eyes. They were the lightest gray I’d ever seen, and they reminded me of a foggy River Valley morning.
He stumbled closer, his gaze sweeping up and down me, perusing my shoulders, my chest, my lips…His hand landed on the locker to his right with a thud, and he leaned into it, using it to support his unsteady body.
“Looks like I found it,” he whispered. “What’s your name?”
“Ivy,” I said, taking another step back when he pushed off the locker to continue his advance.
“Ivy,” he drew out, and a chill ran down my back. No one had ever said my name like that. With reverence. “A beautiful name. It fits you.”
My back collided with the cold wall of lockers behind me at the same time his palms landed beside my head. The stench of alcohol washed over me again, this time more potent than before. I craned my neck to look at his face, steeling myself to tell him to back off.
Our eyes met, and what I saw inside his made me pause. He looked…lost. Before I could utter a word, he leaned forward and pressed his mouth against mine.
His lips were hard and merciless. My jaw dropped from shock, and he took that as an invitation to plunge his tongue inside my mouth and explore its furthest corners.
I’ve
never been kissed like this before. What had happened at the end of my one date had felt so different that I was sure I was now engaging in a completely separate act. He drank the air out of my lungs and the protests that were beginning to bubble in my throat. It was as if I wasn’t a girl, but a source of some delicious nectar.
My limbs were frozen in disbelief, fear, and something that might have been a completely unexpected pang of arousal. I was vaguely aware of Jamie’s hands still anchored beside my head, not touching me, but I could feel the heat coming off his body across every inch of my exposed skin.
What felt like minutes but must have been seconds passed, and my brain began to function once again. I moved to push him off, but before my palms could land on his chest, he was torn away from me. One blink later, and he was sprawled on the ground at my feet.
I screamed, a girly sound that I hated as soon as it escaped my lungs. My brother stood above Jamie, his face a terrifying grimace of anger and shock.
2
The scream was a mistake.
It set something off in Cole that I’d never seen in him before—something violent. My brother wasn’t one for resolving conflict with fists, given that we’d been raised by two peace-loving hippies that liked to give out free hugs at political rallies, but my scream must have triggered something more primal. He whirled away from me, kneeled above Jamie, and savagely punched him in the face.
Shouts erupted, and I pressed farther into the hard lockers at my back. Bodies lunged at Cole, pulling him off the fallen singer, but I couldn’t make out anyone’s faces. All of their features had become blurred. My heart still hammered against my ribs, and heat was spreading through my chest.
Cole was screaming at Jamie, at everyone clustered around the sad tableau. I forced myself to focus on what he was saying.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? This is my sister! She’s seventeen. I should tear your tongue out for assaulting her. I’m calling the fucking cops. Your sorry ass deserves to go to jail.”
Wheels began turning. Assault? Oh God, no. I couldn’t let him send Jamie to jail. I would never live this down. My shock at the kiss was being quickly overshadowed by the potential consequences of my inaction. I should’ve pushed the singer off, acted faster, but instead, I’d stood in place like a clueless idiot while he’d invaded my mouth. I had to fix this.
“Cole, no,” I said, taking a step toward my brother. He continued shouting at Jamie, making no indication that he’d heard me.
“Cole. Cole!” I screeched. The room went silent as everyone’s attention snapped to me. Ezra stood beside Cole, along with a dark-haired man I didn’t know. Another man with a shaved head was kneeling on the ground, holding Jamie’s face in his lap. A trail of blood was coming out of Jamie’s nose and dripping past his lips. He appeared to be passed out.
“Ivy,” Cole said in a hoarse voice, and I flinched at the stricken expression on his face. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve been here keeping an eye on you. This guy is bad news. It’s about time he spent a night in jail and sobered up.”
The man holding Jamie’s face whipped his shaved head toward Cole. “He’s not going anywhere. You need to calm down. This was a misunderstanding.”
“His tongue was down my underaged sister’s throat,” Cole growled, a thick vein protruding from under the skin of his neck. “What are you not understanding about that?”
The man’s gaze flickered to me. “She doesn’t look underage. It was an honest mistake.”
I folded in on myself, suddenly all too aware of my revealing dress. Cole didn’t even look at me as he retorted, “I don’t give a shit if she looks like a middle-aged go-go girl. I know my sister wouldn’t willingly kiss an asshole like him.”
The man scoffed. “If you think Jamie has to force himself on women, I invite you to come visit the tour bus after one of the shows and see how willing they are.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “Why don’t you ask your sister if he was doing anything she didn’t want him to?”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding—”
This was humiliating. “Cole,” I interrupted him, stepping away from the lockers and gripping his upper arm. “It’s fine. I’m fine. It was…unexpected, but it was just a kiss. I screamed because I was shocked to suddenly find all of you in here, not because I was hurt.”
My brother tore his gaze away from Jamie’s handler and looked down at me. “Ivy, you don’t need to do this. He hasn’t been sober since we started this tour. I know he must have forced himself on you.”
“It was just a kiss,” I insisted. “He didn’t even touch me.” I glanced at Jamie who looked like an absolute mess. “Look at him. He’s not okay. He doesn’t need jail. He needs help. I think we should call a doctor.”
The man with the shaved-head adjusted his grip on the singer. “We got him. Mike, let’s get him cleaned up in the dressing room and let him sleep it off before the show.” They were being awfully optimistic if they thought he was going to be able to perform in less than two hours.
Cole looked like he still wanted to protest, but Ezra jumped in. “Ivy says she’s fine. Don’t patronize her. Why don’t you let her decide what she wants to do about this?”
My heart swelled in response to Ezra casting me a lifeline. I gave him a grateful look before turning once again to Cole. “Just let him go. I’m fine, honestly.”
Cole stared at me for a long moment, his hands still clenched in fists. I thought I saw something like regret flicker across his expression. Did he regret allowing me to come?
He closed his eyes and let out a low breath. “Fine. Take him away. If this happens again, I will call the cops,” he said to the two men. Jamie grumbled something as they lifted him off the floor and carried him out of the dressing room.
When the door slammed behind them, I collapsed on a bench, my head in my hands. Cole snaked his arm around my shoulders and pulled me to him. “Ives, I’m so sorry.”
“Stop apologizing.”
“Cole, it’s my fault,” Ezra said from somewhere to my left. “I should’ve waited for her outside the dressing room.”
I shrugged Cole’s hand off my shoulders and rose. “No. I don’t need you or anyone else standing on guard duty. For the thousandth time, I’m fine. Can we please forget this happened and move on? This is so embarrassing.”
For the first time since I’d arrived, Cole took in my appearance. He narrowed his eyes. “Ivy, I don’t want you dressing like that while you’re here.”
Anger prickled at my temples. “How I dress is none of your business.”
My brother stood up, his jaw tightening. He looked to Ezra. “Was this a huge mistake? Am I an idiot for bringing her here?”
Ezra cast me a weary glance. “She told you she’s fine. Let’s all just calm down.”
Cole sighed and faced me. “Ivy, I agreed to this because Mom insisted you could benefit from more exposure to the world outside of River Valley. She told me you need to broaden your horizons. But this isn’t a free-for-all. You’re still my little sister, and I don’t want you to get into any trouble. That guy is definitely trouble.”
“I have no interest in that guy,” I grit out. “I can handle myself. I’m an adult, Cole. Start treating me like one.” Was that so much to ask?
“No, Ivy,” Cole said, shaking his head. “You’re not an adult in any way, shape, or form. You’re two weeks away from turning eighteen, and until then, I’m responsible for you. I won’t leave you on your own like this again.”
Apparently, it was too much to ask.
I was starting to realize that Jamie’s kiss—the whole thirty seconds of it—may have been enough to spell disaster for the rest of my time here. I was more pissed about that than the kiss itself. Cole didn’t leave my side all night, except for when they played their set, and even then, I watched from backstage with Ran a few feet away. Cole had asked him to shadow me, and the only person who hated it more than me was Ran himself. I’d overheard him complaining to a roadie when he though
t I couldn’t hear.
After their set, we went right back to the tour bus, so I had no idea how Ritual Disruption’s show went with Jamie and his bloody nose. When I asked Ran if they ended up playing, he said yes and didn’t elaborate.
Life on the bus was crammed with the five guys, Ran, and I using seven of the eight bunk beds. Cole complimented my small baggage, but the pleasure I had anticipated at feeling his praise didn’t come. I was too concerned he was going to be watching my every move for the rest of the two weeks.
At breakfast, as we drove to San Francisco for the show that night, I felt awkward once again. The guys talked in quiet tones and looked tired, seeming at odds with the up-and-coming rock stars I had expected to be surrounded by. After we finished our food, cereal, and eggs, I pulled Cole aside and asked him if the guys were acting differently because of me.
“What do you mean?” my brother asked, seeming genuinely confused. “What did you expect us to act like?”
“You just seem…I don’t know. Too mellow.”
Cole laughed. “Ives, we’re exhausted between shows. We’ve been touring for over a month now. This is how it goes. We get to the venue around noon, spend hours doing soundcheck, then go for dinner before coming back to the venue around eight. We perform, stick around for a few drinks afterwards, and crash while the bus takes us to our next city. The only thing different today is that we actually got up to have breakfast with you. Usually, we’d just ask the driver to stop at a McDonalds when we woke up.”
I flushed, feeling guilty for assuming the worst when in reality the guys had given up a few hours of sleep to eat with me. No wonder they seemed so tired.
“Sorry,” I grumbled. “I guess I was expecting something different from life on the tour bus.”
Cole grinned and ruffled my hair. “First and foremost, we’re here to put on the best show of our lives every single night. But don’t worry, you’ll see some of the glamorous parts soon enough. There’ll be a few parties in the evenings, we just try not to get too sucked into that scene.” His expression darkened. “You saw Jamie last night. That’s what happens when someone succumbs to living up to the whole rock-star stereotype. It can lead you down a very bad path.”
Pretty Words: An Enemies To Lovers Rock Star Romance (River Valley Rebels) Page 2