Gale’s bandmates were as talented on their respective instruments as he was on his bass and keyboards. However, standing between them at the hostess stand, the lead singer outshone them like the North Star did the rest of the night sky.
Heads inside the bar turned to watch the recognizable trio as they followed the hostess single file through the middle of it. I watched only the one, who either didn’t see me up on the riser behind my drums, or he chose not to. I was pretty certain it was the latter.
Threading their way through the crowded room, the group stopped when the hostess gestured to a reserved table in front, just to the right of the stage. They were here to see us perform. Gale or someone in his group must have called ahead to reserve a table.
I licked my dry lips. That an accomplished band like Anthem had come to hear me—us—play should have been flattering. I was elated, sure, but also nervous as hell. My heart fluttered inside the cage of my chest, and that fluttering had little to do with the music and everything to do with how Gale had made me feel.
Like he’d understood me. Like he knew that I was damaged, but he thought that damage might be repairable. Like maybe the path ahead was open instead of permanently closed.
That kind of understanding, even if only imagined—and over now—was difficult to dismiss.
How long had it been since Gale and I had parted ways at the truck stop? Mere hours, but it seemed like forever ago. Yet if the goal wasn’t to be affected by him anymore, it was a forever that hadn’t been nearly long enough.
I ducked my head, pretending to do an inspection of my kit, but really, I continued to watch Anthem from beneath my lashes.
After each man took their seats, they each ordered something. I knew without needing verification that Gale had requested something nonalcoholic. He’d totally abstained since the accident. But why wouldn’t he look at me?
His gaze suddenly lifted as if he’d heard my unspoken question, and my breath caught.
Gale was so handsome in another button-down shirt. This one was a navy so dark it was almost black. The material clung to his wide shoulders and chest like the other one had.
His thick brown hair with the copper highlights seemed to defy any particular style, but the defiant look totally worked for him. His beard and mustache framed his sexy lips, but those lips were flattened now, not curved. His gaze didn’t sparkle like diamonds like it had before.
Tonight, the surface of his eyes was a mirror, reflecting none of the warmth or kindness he’d shared with me earlier today. Now I saw only my lonely reflection, and then nothing when he turned away as if he’d never known me at all. I was an oddity he didn’t even want to pretend to remember.
I received the message he was sending, and it hurt. Both my heart and its fluttering stopped.
Suddenly, I found it difficult to breathe, and must have squeaked out some sort of plea, because Dolly turned to look at me. My heart resumed beating at the concern in her gaze.
I ripped my focus away from Gale, but the damage had been done. I could ignore him. Immediately, I put that plan into action. But it didn’t remove the sting of his rejection.
“Ladies and gentlemen.” Dolly spoke into the microphone, using her sultry voice that always got everyone’s attention.
Conversations quieted to a murmur so quiet, I could hear glasses clinking.
“I’m Dolly Byron.” She cradled the pole in front of her like a lover. “And we—” She lifted one arm toward Lark and the other toward Linnet, then took a step backward to pivot slightly on her slinky heels to look at me. “We’re Joey’s Band.”
Assumptions were made. Incorrect ones. People who knew my name thought the band was my band. That it was named for me.
When the audience clapped to fill in Dolly’s purposeful pause, I stretched my arms as high as they would go above my head. Pointing my sticks to the heavens, the sticks that had once belonged to him, I whispered the invocation to him before every performance like I always did. “Joey, this is for you. I love you.”
“This first song is for our founding member,” Dolly said into the mic. In her silky purple-and-black lace slip dress, her curvy hips started to sway in anticipation of the music. “Music and lyrics by our drummer, Josephine Poet. It’s called ‘Last Farewell.’ We hope you enjoy it.”
If I slipped into my past
Would I find a way at last?
Knowing what I didn’t then
Could I bring you back again?
Would I do things differently?
Seeing what I couldn’t see
Say the things I didn’t say
Pray for just another day?
But I’m crying in the dark for you
Burning in my private hell
Wishing that it wasn’t true
You won’t hear my last farewell.
Every word is my good-bye
Every breath is my last sigh
There is nothing in the end
Sit in judgment of my sin.
But would it be too much to ask?
Too monumental of a task
To heal the wounds that run so deep
And right my wrongs before I sleep?
So I’m waiting in the dark for you
Secrets that I’ll never tell
There is nothing left to do
But offer up my last farewell.
“THAT WAS INSANE.” SMILING, Lark bumped her shoulder to mine and reached out to ruffle the wad of cash I held in my hand.
“Totally cool.” On the other side of me in the hotel hallway, Dolly linked her arm with mine.
“We were all right,” I said, thinking a little tempering of the enthusiasm was in order. “The audience was with us all the way.”
That felt fabulous, but the criticism from Ivan at our last show still lingered with me. I reminded myself there was room for improvement , and I was at the top of the list.
Distracted by Gale, I’d missed a beat in “Last Farewell.” Then Dolly had come in too late to harmonize properly with me on the chorus of the next number, and the twins had been flirting with the bar manager and wandered off tempo in the last song.
“Packed ’em in, a full house just like in Dallas,” Linnet said, clomping along beside her sister in her platform heels. We were different heights, but were all walking in a tight row.
“Every seat filled, and we rocked them all!” Lark’s eyes shone like bright copper, and she and her sister nodded excitedly at each other.
“Did you see the Dragons?” Dolly asked. “They seemed to really like us.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I saw them.”
All four band members plus Raven had watched the show from a table on the opposite side of the stage where Gale had been seated with Anthem. I knew because I’d trained my gaze to their side of the audience after the lead singer of Anthem had snubbed me.
The Dragons, a UK band, had a sound that was closer to ours than most, and had appeared to be into the show. It was encouraging to be appreciated by a band at their level, but the guys probably thought all my staring had been me flirting with them.
“I saw you talking to Raven after the show.” Dolly tugged on my arm. “Looked serious.”
“She was giving me a heads-up about the ins and outs of being a Rock Fuck Club girl, inaugural season star to the up-and-coming one.”
“Intense advice?”
“A little.”
“What did she say, exactly?”
“Watch my back with Suzanne. Trust the film crew. Keep my best friend close.”
“Definitely serious.” Dolly’s green eyes narrowed. “But stuff you should already know.”
“I got it.” I nodded. “And I’ve got this.”
“You’re up for a camera crew filming your every move?” she asked. “You seemed pretty uncomfortable with all the close-ups they did on you tonight.”
“It is what it is.” I shrugged. Once I’d located Ignacio and the crew, I’d been uncomfortable, all right. But it wasn’t exactly my
every outward physical flaw being magnified that I was most worried about.
“You think it will be possible to keep your secrets under wrap twenty-four hours a day?” she asked.
“Not now, Dolly.” I gave her a sharp look and glanced around. We’d reached the hotel’s elevator bank, but no one was waiting. It was just us. I let out a relieved breath and slapped the call button.
“If not now, when? We need to talk about this.” She continued giving me a concerned look that I pretended not to see. We were at an impasse that would have to wait.
“We sold out of all our merchandise,” Linnet said, attempting to ease the tension.
I knew what she was doing, and I let her have that play. I didn’t really want to be at an impasse with my best friend.
“We have a bunch of cash and no expenses. We did great.” I forced my lips into a smile. “When we get to our room, we need to tuck the money into the safe, then go online and reorder more merch.”
“Nah, Jo.” Dolly shook her head, so adamantly that she created a glitter shower. “Enough work. It’s late.”
“We put in a solid performance. Everyone said so,” Lark said.
Linnet quickly followed up, doing that thing where it seemed as though she were finishing her twin’s thought. “But it’s been forever since we let loose and just hung out together.”
They both moved in unison, sandwiching me between them. Joining hands, they encircled me within their arms.
“You’re right.” I smiled again. This time it was a real one. “Let’s go have some fun.”
• • •
We found fun fairly easily. When Ivan Carl’s guitar tech exited the elevator, he told us most of the tour was at the rooftop bar.
A bar in the lobby with live music. Another bar upstairs with a view. This was a swanky hotel, indeed.
We piled into the elevator and then exited it on the top floor. Following the directional sign, we left the dark colors and formal carpeting of the luxurious interior of the hotel and entered the cool oasis of a tropical-themed terrace bar.
I was immediately drawn to the view. The twinkling lights of the city reminded me of a certain lead singer’s eyes . . . when he’d been pleased with me. The twins and Dolly, on the other hand, were drawn to the laughter and the party that seemed to be concentrated at one of the larger seating groups in proximity to the bar. We separated, each to our own definition of fun.
Later, Dolly touched my arm. “Want another club soda with lime? You’ve been over here by yourself for a while.”
I turned away from the view and looked at her. “Time kind of slipped away from me. But no more to drink. I’m good.”
I glanced past her. The twins were on the sectional with a bunch of guys from Cush Diamond’s band, where they’d been since I last glanced over at them. The outdoor lights strung over their heads sparkled, but not nearly as invitingly as the ones within the whitewashed adobe dwellings and terra-cotta rooftops surrounding the hotel.
“You’re not good.” Dolly searched my gaze. “You’ve been standing over here by yourself for the better part of an hour. Come back with me and sit with us.”
“No, y’all are drinking. I wouldn’t fit in.”
“You don’t have to drink to fit in, Jo.” She tilted her head. “Chris, the guy sitting next to Lark, is the drum tech for Noah Pearl.”
“Yeah?” I perked up at that detail.
“Uh-huh.” She took my empty glass from my hand, set it on the pub table beside me, and pressed her body closer as she linked her arm with mine. “C’mon. I’ll introduce you.”
“Okay.” I let her pull me along, but she weaved on what should have been a straight trajectory. “Um, doll, you need to lay off the margaritas. You’re unsteady on your feet.”
“Am I leaning too heavily into you?” She wagged her head.
“A little.”
“A little that’s all on purpose.” She smashed more of her side boob into my arm.
“I know. You get extra flirty when you drink too much.”
“Am I gonna get lucky?” A tequila fog dimming the evergreen forest of her eyes, she leaned more into me.
“Doubtful.” I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea. “But I am going to make sure you get tucked into bed safely. How many drinks have you had?”
“Way too many,” boomed a nearby disapproving voice that gave me a full-body shiver.
“Gale.” I gasped as he stepped out of the shadows beneath the green awning. I still hadn’t figured out a way not to react to him. “What are you doing here?”
“I heard the view is nice.”
“It is.” I twisted at my waist to glance back. “You can see the shadows of the mountains in the distance on this side.”
“I’ll bet you can.” His voice deepened. “But I was looking at a better view.”
“Don’t.” I swallowed hard as I turned back around to face him. “Don’t mess with me.”
“Not messing with you, babe. If I were, you’d certainly know. I’m just stating facts.” His gaze swept over me. “Pretty outfit.”
“Thanks.”
“Pretty sparse on the material. I could see your tits when you were leaning at the rail.”
“Now, wait a minute,” Dolly said indignantly, stiffening at my side.
“I’ve got this,” I told her, squeezing her arm.
“You think?” She shook her head at me. “You said that earlier, but I’m afraid it’s more like you don’t have a hold on anything.” Her expression slackening, she swayed.
“Your friend’s trashed.”
Apparently. “I’d better get her to bed,” I said with a sigh. “Thanks for the fashion advice. Not.”
Dismissing him wasn’t easy, but at least I was trying to disengage. I turned, doing my best to ignore the heat of his gaze on me as I moved away.
“Josephine, wait.” He jogged to catch up to Dolly and me. “Let me help you.”
“I don’t need your help.” I glared up at him, and his eyes narrowed.
“I think maybe you do.”
“Jo,” Dolly murmured. “I don’t feel so good.”
“Shit!” I exclaimed as she went limp, and I tilted precariously in her direction.
“I have her.” Gale swept Dolly up into his arms. “Where’s your room?”
Where was my room? We hadn’t been to it yet because we’d gotten ready for our gig in the dressing room behind the bar.
“Good question. I’m not sure.” I dug the cardboard keycard holder out of my pocket and glanced at it. “Room 336.”
“Same floor as mine. I’ll lead for a change. Do you think you can follow?”
“Yeah.” I blew out a breath, muttering under it about his arrogance.
“I heard you,” he said, his strides not encumbered by carrying my best friend.
But I was encumbered following him, because, hello, his ass and those foreplay jeans.
“I wanted you to hear.” I nearly had to sprint to keep up with him.
“Can you press the button?” he asked when we reached the elevator.
“Sure.” I hit it. Turning around, I narrowed my gaze on him and my best friend. Her palms were pressed to his chest, and she was burrowed into him.
“Comfy, doll?” I asked, sarcasm dripping in my tone.
“Oh yeah.” She sighed and snuggled closer. “He smells yummy.”
I rolled my eyes. When the elevator door opened, I stepped inside to press the button for our floor, and Gale stepped in after me. Beside him in the enclosed space, his yummy scent made my head spin as dizzily as Dolly’s was with too much tequila.
“Thanks for doing this,” I mumbled without looking at him. My new strategy for trying to control my response to him was going to be no direct eye contact.
“My pleasure.” His lead singer’s voice transformed the elevator into a concert hall.
Knowing his pleasure would be my pleasure with so very little effort on his part, I sighed. My new strategy had already failed.
“Did you say something?” he asked as the door opened.
“No.” I pressed my lips together and stepped out behind him. Maybe minimal conversation would work.
“All right then. C’mon.” He turned left and moved quickly down the hall.
“If your strides weren’t so freakishly long,” I said, panting as I hurried to catch him, “I could come on faster.”
Gale suddenly stopped in front of me, and I ran right into him.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked.
“I could ask you the same thing,” another male voice said.
At the sound of Tyler’s voice, my heart sank. My trouble factor had just increased.
“Hey, Ty,” I said, slipping past Gale and giving the Enthusiasts’ drummer a casual glance as if I weren’t surprised to see him standing in front of the door with my room number on it. “Can you take Dolly off Gale’s hands? She had too much to drink.”
I inserted my keycard, patting myself on the back for my steady hands and my acting ability. In my peripheral vision, I saw the two men squaring off again like they had at the Dallas bar.
I didn’t look directly at either of them. Instead, I hoped—trying to channel optimism—that averting my eyes would make them and the deteriorating situation go away.
“I’ve got her,” Gale said. “I’ll take her in.” He wasn’t going to help me decrease my trouble, which I didn’t think was very nice.
I stepped inside, flipped on the light, and glanced around. “Whoa,” I said on an awe-filled breath. Taking in the leather seating group and wood-burning fireplace in front of me, I realized it wasn’t just a hotel room. It was a suite.
“Layout’s like ours,” Gale said as he moved through the shallow tiled entryway and turned to the left, ducking through a doorway.
I followed. The bedroom had two beds with brightly colored Native American symbols hand painted on the black headboards. As Gale went to the one on the left, I went to the nightstand between the two beds and pressed the button on the wall-mounted lamp above it, turning it on.
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