“No. I definitely didn’t. Like I said, I just needed to make a phone call.”
She stiffens, shifting to face me. “That’s right. I hope it wasn’t urgent.”
I sigh and pick at the edge of the sheet. “I guess it kind of was, but my cousin will have to understand.”
“Your cousin?”
“Yeah, she called with some problem with her bandmate and boyfriend.”
Marina’s expression lifts with excitement entirely inappropriate for most of that sentence. “Oh my gosh, your cousin is in a band? How cool!”
I laugh and shrug. “I guess. Technically, two of my cousins are in a band since they’re twins. Aaron plays drums, and Liberty plays keys and writes the songs.”
“Aww, her name is Liberty? That’s so cute.”
I smirk and shake my head. “Okay. Sure. I guess.”
“But she’s having problems?”
I shrug again. “Apparently. That’s what I was trying to find out. I woke up to some frantic messages to call her. Something about Chris leaving.”
“Chris?”
“The lead singer… and her boyfriend.”
She gasps. “Oh my gosh! That’s terrible. Something like that would wreck a band.”
“Yeah, it would. And their careers if this gets out, so please don’t say anything.”
She rolls her eyes and swats my chest. “Please. Who would I even tell?” She waves her hand around the room.
“Well, not now, obviously. But when we get out of here. I’m sure her manager and publicist would want to handle this, not have her idiot cousin blowing the lid off early.”
By her reaction, I’ve said something shocking, but I can’t tell which part. “Wait, she’s big enough to have a manager and a publicist?”
I laugh and squint over at her. I thought she said she knew who I was. Is she really so surprised I’d have successful relatives too? “Um… yeah. I mean, it’s not uncommon to have a manager and a publicist who works with the agency. Lots of bigger bands do.”
“What’s her band?” she asks, eyes wide.
“Burn Card.”
She bolts from the bed and grabs my shoulder. “Oh my gosh! Your cousins are in Burn Card?!” she shrieks.
“Yes?” I say, rubbing at my ear. Damn, she’s loud when she’s excited.
“Holy shit. Eli! That’s amazing! I mean, wait. Can’t they help you out? Certainly, they must be doing pretty well for themselves.”
I squint at her, tilting my head in confusion. “Um. Yeah, but I’m good.”
By her sigh, she disagrees. She reaches out and strokes my face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. That was rude of me to suggest and none of my business. Of course you are.”
I’m about to respond when a scrape from upstairs forces our gazes toward the steps.
“Oh! Someone’s at the door!”
We jump up from the bed and frantically pull on our clothes.
“Down here,” she shouts, lunging toward the stairs while still tugging on her shorts. “Stephen is that you? Stephen, I’m stuck down here!” She races up the stairs, and I follow close behind. We reach the top just as the heavy wooden door swings open. A frigid blast of air rushes in, blanketing our sweaty bodies. Also waiting is a man I don’t recognize—and several I do.
“What the fuck, Eli?” Sweeny mutters when he sees me.
“You okay?” Luke asks. Casey just shakes his head with a smirk like he figured I’d get myself locked in a random basement.
I roll my eyes at all of them and exit into freedom. “I’m fine. Just got lost trying to make a call and ended up trapped down here. Guys, this is…” The introduction stalls on my tongue when my gaze lands on Marina.
• • •
Marina
That’s… that’s Luke Craven. And Casey Barrett. And Mike Sweeny. And several others behind my boss Stephen who look like crewmembers which means… I turn to Eli in shock, his gaze simultaneously confused, apologetic, and amused. I don’t know if I want to laugh, cry, scream, or punch him right now. Maybe all of the above? I just spent heart-pounding, soul-wrenching hours of physical and emotional intimacy with—not Eli the homeless guy—but an “Eli” who’s part of Night Shifts Black!
“She looks shell-shocked, dude. What’d you do to her?” Casey asks, smacking his bandmate on the chest.
Eli ignores him, his gorgeous eyes fixed solely on me. “I—Marina? What is it? What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?!” I force out. I march forward and shove him so hard he stumbles back several steps. “What’s wrong? You’re… you! That’s what’s wrong! You’re freaking you!”
“But I thought… I mean, you said you knew.” He shakes his head, genuinely confused.
“I said I knew you were homeless!” I shout, smacking his arm. He flinches as the other guys burst into laughter.
“Oh my god. She thought… she thought…” Sweeny can’t even get the words out.
“Dude, I told you to get a haircut,” Casey snorts. They double over, laughing so hard they can’t breathe.
Eli shakes his head, clearly out of words. “I’m sorry, Marina. I thought… I should have told you. But you had the knife and the broom and then—”
“Hang on,” Casey interrupts, gasping for air. “The broom? There’s a broom involved in this?”
Eli glares at them and swats Casey’s hand from his arm. “None of your damn business. Look, why don’t you all go back to the bus while I talk to Marina.”
“Oh, hell no. This is amazing,” Sweeny gasps out.
Luke rolls his eyes and grabs his bandmates’ sleeves. “Okay. We can harass him later. He clearly has some shit to sort out. See you back at the bus?” he directs to Eli, already dragging the others away. “Nice to meet you…” he says to me, fishing for my name.
“Marina,” Eli mutters. “Guys, meet Marina.”
”Marina,” Luke echoes with a nod. “Thanks for taking such good care of my bass player. Oh, and Eli, when you’re done here. You need to call Liberty. She’s freaking out. She’s the one who informed us you were missing and might need help.”
“Yeah. Got it,” Eli grunts.
My boss gives me a confused, angry look as the band and crew depart, and I can only imagine how that conversation is going to go later. For now, we have more pressing matters to deal with. “You going to be okay?” Stephen asks, his gaze sliding to Eli with suspicion.
“We’ll be fine,” I assure him. “I’ll find you in a minute. Thanks for letting us out.”
“We need to get that damn door fixed,” he mumbles as he walks away.
Once we’re alone, I turn to Eli who sighs and shoves his hands in the waistband of his shorts. His hoodie is slung over his shoulder, his hair as messy and sexy as ever. His eyes… sigh. His eyes.
I blink and wish I could stay mad at him. “That’s what you were going to tell me just before they found us, wasn’t it?” I say finally.
His right eye screws into a squint as he lets out a long breath. “Yep. But you said you knew and… yep.” He shakes his head and straightens. “Marina, I’m so sorry. I really thought… I just…”
“Did you mean any of it?” I ask, searching his face.
“Any of what?”
“Anything that happened down there. Was any of it real?”
He looks legitimately surprised by my question. “What do you mean? All of it was real.“
I take a step toward him. “All of it?”
He nods, those dark eyes resting on me. So open. So earnest. So sexy and funny and everything they were before I knew who he was. And then it hits me. I’m mad at him for not telling me who he was, but what about the fact that I didn’t know? I immediately recognized Luke, Casey, and even the lead guitar player at the top of the stairs. Knew their names, could probably even tell you a few random facts about them. But I didn’t even know NSB had a band member named Eli.
I look up into his face when I reach him, enjoying the heat of his body again as we
hover close. Reaching up, I touch his cheek, tracing slowly.
“So, I guess you’ll be in town for at least another day,” I say, my gaze lifting to his.
The concern on his face melts into relief. Then a smile that stops my heart. “Yeah, I guess I will.”
“I mean, I know you probably have a ton of plans. Lots of setup and groupies and—”
He steps toward me until we’re pressed against each other. He’s already hardening again. I’m already melting.
“I’m free if you are,” he says. “Just, if it’s cool with you, after I call my cousin, maybe we go out for some real food and get a hotel room instead? Like, a big-ass one with tons of wide-open space.”
“Perfect. I owe you a steak dinner anyway.”
He lifts a brow as I slip my arms around his waist, loving the feel of his body against me. Loving the promise of today and the excitement for tomorrow. But mostly, I love that I’ve just learned I’m the kind of person who can seize a moment and live it to its fullest. I don’t know if we’ll ever see each other again. Maybe this will always be that crazy story I can tell and nothing more. The fact that I learned I’m capable of crafting crazy stories? Pretty freaking incredible, and I’ll always be grateful to Eli the homeless bass player for that. For now, we enjoy the time we have left.
I tug him against me and stare up into his face. The truth is, who he is doesn’t change what he is. He’s still someone who made my world a little brighter when I needed a spark. The other truth? I kind of owe him an apology too.
“Hey, Eli. I’m really sorry for not recognizing you. I should have. I recognized Luke, Casey, and even Mike.”
“Sweeny. We just call him Sweeny,” he says casually.
I smile up at him. “Okay. Sweeny. Anyway, I’m sorry. You’re amazing, you know that? You deserve to be recognized too. If I’m being honest with myself, it was kind of my job to know who you were, and so really, the failure lies with me.”
He shrugs and plants a kiss on my hair as he walks us toward the stairs to get our stuff. “Eh, don’t worry about it. No one ever recognizes the bass player.”
The end.
For more Eli, Liberty, Burn Card, and Night Shifts Black check out The NSB Rocker Series and The Turner Artist Rocker Series by Alyson Santos.
Alyson is a writer, musician, and cat lover. Explore love in a new way by checking out these other titles by Alyson. For updates, reveals, and more subscribe to Aly’s newsletter and join her fun, laidback reader group on Facebook: Aly’s Breakfast Club.
THE TURNER ARTIST ROCKER SERIES
RISING WEST
FALLING NORTH
BREAKING SOUTH
THE NSB ROCKER SERIES
NIGHT SHIFTS BLACK (NSB #1)
TRACING HOLLAND (NSB #2)
VIPER (NSB #3)
LIMELIGHT (NSB #4)
AN NSB WEDDING (NSB #5)
STANDALONES
YOUNG LOVE
TRAITOR (TWISTED FATE #1)
HAUNTED MELODY
PARANORMAL BOOKS BY MOIRA HALE
GIFTED (Gifted, Vol 1)
CURSED (Gifted, Vol 2)
It’s time to believe.
I’m a writer, musician, and cat lover. Not always in that order.
I write what needs to come out, whether it’s pain, tears, or laughter. I write people and relationships, about the beauty and horror of what we do to ourselves and each other. I write Love. Vengeance. Compassion. Cruelty. Trust. Betrayal. Forgiveness. Darkness, and the incredible way humans destroy and heal each other.
ABOUT THE BOOK
Wilder, the lead singer for Wild Knights, isn’t looking for love when his band stops to play a show in California. But from the second his eyes land on Simone, she steals his very breath—right along with his heart.
1995
Wilder
“Well, this is Riverside,” Lucas says. My best friend and the lead guitarist for our band pushes the gear shift into park and everyone piles out of the van.
“I thought it’d look nicer,” Matty grumbles, stepping to my side. He shakes out his jet-black hair, thrashing it around as if he’s behind his drum kit, then stands straight to pull it back into a rubber band.
I squint my eyes, stretching my hands to the sky and working the kinks from my back as I take in the unimpressive sight. Another town, another empty parking lot. But I can’t complain—not when we’re living life, on the road, and doing what we love. The fall air is crisp and I’m thankful there’s no rain spewing from the clouds overhead.
“We unloading first?” I ask Lucas.
“Let me check and find out.” He jogs over to the box office built into this older venue. It’s got a vintage vibe, and a thrill of excitement spurs at the thought of tonight’s show. There’s nothing like a live audience. Doesn’t matter how small the crowd or dive the bar, I’ll never tire of it.
I glance up to the marquee and chuckle at the sight. They’ve misspelled our band name. Again. Fuck. We should really change it. What should read “Wild Knights” is just “Wild Nights.” People always drop the K, or don’t realize how to spell it, which makes us really difficult for listeners to find. We thought we were so clever, but when over half the gigs we play get it wrong, it’s obviously not. That and most fans appear more confused than entertained when we explain the name and, well, it’s just embarrassing. Hell, I should be thankful we’re even on the sign. As the band that plays before the opener, we don’t get much, if any publicity.
“I’m starving, dude.” Matty yawns and scrubs a hand down his face.
“I could go for anything that’s not beef jerky or protein bars.” Keat pats his belly. He proceeds to burp so loud a few birds fly from the roof of a nearby building.
“So could we, Grossman,” Big John says, hopping from the van and stretching his long legs. “How the fuck did I get stuck in the back? Again. Especially when this dude is letting it rip like he’s trying to start a fire with his ass.”
Everyone laughs and I crinkle my nose as I join in. The five of us become Neanderthals after a few weeks of travel in our sixteen-passenger van. By the time we pack in our equipment, instruments, and bags for five full-grown men, it’s more than a little cramped.
Lucas struts back across the parking lot with a stack of papers in his hand, waving them above his head as he comes closer. “We’ve got flyers.”
Everyone groans.
“How many?” I blow out a long breath, my stomach grumbling with hunger. “And can we stop for lunch first?”
“Only a hundred,” he says, which honestly isn’t as bad as some places. “They want a packed house tonight, and if we get them there it could mean a bonus.”
“There’s an outdoor mall about a half a mile from here.” Matty glances up from his cell and points in one direction. “We could eat and hit up a few shoppers.”
“What day is it?” Big John scratches his head.
“Saturday,” Matty says. “Yeah, this will be good.”
Keat nods. “What about the equipment?”
“They said we can unload now.” Lucas hikes a thumb over his shoulder. “There’s someone who’ll let us in the back.”
“Well, let’s get on with it.” I’m not looking forward to handing out flyers all afternoon, but at least I’m not stuck in the van. Someday we won’t have to hustle so hard, but until then at least my bandmates are some of the coolest dudes I know.
• • •
“Let’s split up.” Matty wipes his face with a napkin and takes a sip from his soda. “Cover more ground.”
“Sounds good.” Lucas pulls the flyers from his backpack and divides them into two piles. “Wild and I will take the second level; you three hit the ground floor.” We’re currently sitting on the third floor of the outdoor shopping mall finishing up lunch.
“Please don’t make me talk to strangers.” Big John groans. He’s a giant of a dude; at six-foot-five and pushing three hundred pounds, he also looks intimidating as hell. But while the man kills o
n bass, he’s shy as hell.
“We got you, brother,” Keat says, then lets loose a belch. Thankfully, his keyboard skills are much better than his social ones.
Matty grabs the second stack of flyers and pushes from the table. “Meet up in an hour?” He wads up his trash, shoots it into the nearby can, and sinks it.
I applaud as the rest of my bandmates cheer. Doesn’t matter we’ll all be twenty-six by the end of the year, there’re some things that never change. Getting excited when you swoosh trash into a basket is one of them.
Of course, Keat and Big John turn it into a contest, stealing the remaining trash on the table to try to replicate Matty’s shot.
Lucas stands and catches my gaze. “Let’s go find some music fans.”
I follow him away from our friends and down a flight of stairs. The place is pretty crowded, and I feel good about tonight’s show. Lucas and I will talk to anyone, and our charisma is usually good for a few ticket sales.
“You look like you have good taste in music.” I stop and point to a woman walking with her friends before they pass by.
Her brows lift in surprise and she glances at her girls, making the universal “Save me from the stranger” eyes.
“Not interested!” One of her friends yells. She doesn’t slow her steps or give us a second glance.
“Sorry!” The other friend pouts her lips and gives us a sympathetic smile.
“Jesus,” Lucas says under his breath.
“That’s cool. Maybe next time!” I lift my hand and shout after them.
“Really, dude.” Lucas chuckles and nods to a storefront. “There.”
It’s a clothing store, and several of the mannequins in the window are dressed in vintage rock tees. Promising. We step inside and the blast of A/C sends a shiver down my spine. The pretty brunette smiling near a rack of clothes lifts her gaze and stops me dead in my tracks. The hair on my skin raises with another shiver.
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