TRAPPED UNDER ICE (ROCKING ROMANCE COLLECTION)

by M. J. Schiller

  “Chad, stop!” She giggled and squirmed in his arms.

  “All right.” He made an attempt at seriousness, thinking for a moment. “I’ll get out and lure Roger away from here, offer to go and get a beer. Yeah, that’ll work. Then, you sneak out and we act like you had to go back to your car for something.”

  Beth smiled at him. “Brilliant.”

  They got out of the tub and toweled off. As Chad slipped his jeans on over his long legs, Beth couldn’t help admiring his physique again. She loved the way his legs seemed to go on forever and wished they were wrapped around her. Beth stopped him before he put his shirt on and brought her mouth to his without saying anything. He smiled at her, his hand gently cupping her chin as he pulled her in for another kiss, and then he slipped his shirt on and left the room.

  Beth could hear the two men talking, and then the outer door closed behind them. She grabbed a blow-dryer and quickly dried her hair. Then, she set off down the hall in the direction of the most noise. She entered a small room with a couple of vending machines, a handful of chairs and tables, and a cooler, which she guessed supplied the beer the band members gathered around the small table were drinking. Roger leaned back in his chair with his foot on the cooler.

  “Did you find what you were looking for?”

  “Huh?”

  “Chad said you had to go back because you left something in the car. Did you find it?”

  “Oh yes. Yes. I left…my purse. But I’ve got it now.” Beth tapped the purse draped over her shoulder as if to prove it.

  “Yeah, but darlin’, didn’t you have that with you when I saw you in the hall earlier?”

  “Oh yeah.” She thought in haste. “That was the funny thing. I had it all along.”

  Roger leaned forward with his arms on his knees. “You’re a terrible liar.” He started snickering and Chad joined in.

  Beth shot an accusatory look in his direction, but he just shrugged. “He heard us.”

  Roger added, “You better never play poker.” This set them off in another peal of laughter.

  She could feel the heat rise in her cheeks, which only served to make her madder. With a hard stare, she growled, “Get me a beer, asshole.”

  “Oooh. You’re sexy when you’re mad,” he retorted, opening up the cooler and handing her a bottle.

  Chad grabbed Beth as she walked over and pulled her into his lap. “Just ignore him.”

  But Roger wasn’t finished having fun. “So how did you get your hair dry so fast?”

  She looked at him evenly. “Blow-dryer.” She took a pull on her beer, never breaking eye contact.

  Keith’s figure suddenly filled the doorway. “He-ey. What’s going on, dude?”

  Roger eyed Beth mischievously. Chad shot him a warning glance, which he appeared to ignore. He waited a beat.

  She slowly stood up and sauntered over behind him, bending down to whisper in his ear, “I have a beer and I know how to use it.”

  “M-mmm,” Roger hummed, appearing thrilled at the sound of her voice so close to his ear. He craned his neck to peer up at her. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

  “Now, why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  He eyed her, seeming to gauge her level of seriousness, then turned to Keith with finality. “Nothing. Nothing’s going on in here, man.”

  “I get it, dude...”

  “WHAT HAPPENS IN THE DRESSING ROOM, STAYS IN THE DRESSING ROOM,” they all said at once.

  “That’s cool, dude.”

  “You guys are scary,” Beth commented with a shake of her head.

  David stuck his head in the room. “Ready?”

  “Yeah, dude.”

  “Let’s go.”

  The guys stood up and chugged what was left of their beers, the humor evaporating like a puddle on a sunny day. Chad grabbed his leather jacket off the back of his chair.

  “Where are we going?” Beth asked him; it was difficult being the new girl in this fraternity they called a band.

  “To the buses,” Chad explained.

  They headed down the hall as a group. Beth felt nervous about the shift in mood. The jibes and general goofing around seemed to diminish.

  Pete stood at the door at the end of the hall. “Are you ready?” he asked in the same ominous tone, his hand on the metal bar that would open the door.

  They all nodded. Chad slung his arm still holding the leather jacket over her shoulder, but he was staring at the door. She glanced around at the men to try to figure out why they were all of a sudden so solemn. Then, the door opened.

  Despite the fact it was the middle of the night, light flooded the loading zone beyond the door. Dante and some other men stood on the opposite side of the door, some walking ahead of the group, most fanning out to the sides. But what accosted her more than the blaring light, which was making her blink, was the noise. Hundreds of fans, mostly young women, stood behind barricades on either side of them. The tour buses waited at the end of their route, and she couldn’t help but be reminded of walking the gauntlet.

  As her eyes adjusted to the bright lights, they were assaulted anew by the action of the crowd. Teenaged girls pushed and jostled to get a better view, most scantily clad despite the February weather. Her eyes ran over the made-up faces. Some were smoking cigarettes, some drinking beer, although she was certain most were underage. Her eyes fell on one girl in particular on the right who seemed more exuberant than even the wildly squealing girls surrounding her. She had long, curly, platinum-blond hair and wore a glittery, sequined tube-top over her ample bosom and a tight, leather miniskirt. Her makeup was picture-perfect. She can’t be any older than Cassie, Beth realized, shocked.

  People screamed over each other so it was hard to make out their words, but occasionally Beth could pick out shouts of: “You rock, Trapped Under Ice,” “You’re hot, Roger,” and “I love you, Chad!” She had the strangest sensation, as if she was wading forward in slow motion, then things sped up to double-time for an instant or two, returning quickly to the foggy, walking-through-peanut-butter/dream-sequence sort of feeling. There were cameras flashing and people jumped up and down. They even climbed on things to get a better view. It was as if her brain couldn’t process the explosion of information her senses were telling her at the same time.

  Chad turned to say something to her. His leather coat slipped out of his grasp and fell to the ground. Again, in slow motion, Beth saw Chad reaching to pick up his jacket. At the same time, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. The girl she noticed earlier snuck past the wooden barriers and a guard who was looking the other way, his attention diverted momentarily by someone else. She crossed the twenty-or-so-feet of space in surprisingly few seconds in the high-heeled boots she was wearing, and timed her lunge perfectly to avoid Pete’s closing hands. She caught Chad just as he rose with his coat. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him with all the passion her few seconds could afford. Chad stood limply, neither rejecting nor encouraging the behavior. Pete, who was usually very polite with intrusive fans, seemed irritated by being bested by the teen.

  At the same time, a second fan broke free on the left. She got passed the initial guard, but Dante scooped her up before she could reach her target, who happened to be Roger. The girl screamed and lashed out, and a second guard moved over to assist him. “I love you, Roger!” the girl belted out hoarsely through her strained vocal chords. Her face was contorted with the rage, frustration, and passion she felt. As Beth watched, it appeared almost animal-like in its intensity. With a sense of horror she watched the two men grappling with Roger’s admirer. Her already skimpy outfit got disarranged in her tussle, revealing more than she may have intended.

  Roger seemed concerned about the safety of the struggling, thrashing girl, too, and called out, “Be careful, guys! Don’t hurt her.”

  His attention to the girl seemed to freeze her for an instant. The two men took advantage of the moment and pushed her back toward the barrier.

  “I love
you, Roger!” she cried out again in desperation.

  Roger waved a hand and smiled, but Beth heard him say under his breath, “I love you, too—psycho!”

  Dante and his helper returned to the group after depositing their charge firmly behind the lines of security personnel. Beth overheard Dante saying, “Damn bitch bit me!”

  And then she was scrambling up the steps and into the bus.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The door closed behind them, shutting out the zoo they had just left. Everybody inside seemed to breathe a joint sigh of relief, except for Beth, who still stood, stunned, right inside the doorway. Keith headed to the fridge for the booze, Roger was wrapped around Michelle, and Dante was pulling his sleeve over his massive bicep to show Pete his war wounds. Beth became aware of Chad talking to her.

  “You okay?”

  She nodded numbly.

  “I probably should have said something—” He broke off as David approached them, his hand around a pretty, young blonde’s shoulder, his face beaming.

  Beth noticed for the first time how different he was from Chad. He probably stood all of five-foot-nine and wore his hair closely cropped. There was a simplicity about him and innocence. While Chad’s t-shirt and jeans screamed rock star, David’s said he would be just as at home on a farm. The girl with him had a similar aura. Her sweet, freckled face was surrounded by long, straight, blond hair. She was shorter even than Beth, and Beth was not surprised to find her soft, melodic voice held a hint of country twang.

  “You must be Beth,” she stated in a most welcoming way, shaking her hand. “David’s told me a lot about you.” David’s cheeks colored, but he nodded his agreement. “I’m Cheryl, his wife, but you can just call me Cheri.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Beth responded warmly, roused from her semi-stupor. The contrast between the events outside and this civilized, homey greeting was notable.

  “Come in. Have a seat. We want to get to know you.”

  “Yah, Bethy.” Roger patted the couch beside him on a semicircular, red sofa. “Come have a seat.” Michelle sat curled up to him on the other side. “Keith, supply us, man.”

  Keith came over, managing three beer bottles in each hand, the long-necks laced between his fingers. He distributed them to Roger, Michelle, Beth, Chad, and Cheri, keeping the last one for himself. “Sorry, dude, you’re out of luck,” he told David.

  David socked him in the shoulder as he got up to get a drink, and Keith stole his seat by Cheri on a second couch facing the first. A round, low table took up most of the space left in the middle.

  “First things first,” Roger announced. “To a good show.” Beer bottles were clinked all around, and there was a silence while everyone took a long chug on their beer. There was a loud noise outside, as if something slammed into the bus, and a cheer went up from those who were still gathered outside. The others seemed to take it in stride. Pete got up and pulled back a curtain a fraction to take a look.

  “They’ve got it under control,” he grumbled, then took his seat again—a stool pulled up to a kitchen counter. Beth wondered silently what “it” was.

  “To Beth,” Roger began again, raising his bottle. Beth looked nervously at the sparkle in his eyes and the grin on his face. “Who makes life with Chad so much easier to bare,” he finished, winking at his best friend. The pun went right over the others’ heads, but Chad and Beth chuckled as voices called out, “Hear. Hear.”

  Again there was a loud noise and the bus was rocked by some unknown force. Chad, who was about to take a drink, spilled beer down the front of his shirt.

  “Damn!” he said, sitting up.

  “I’ll get a towel,” Beth offered from her position on the end. She headed into the little kitchen area.

  “Anybody else got the munchies?” Cheryl called. Several voices added their assent and she rose to check the cupboard. Beth stood at the sink, water running pointlessly down the drain, a dishtowel in her hand. She was looking out where the curtains were pulled apart above the sink, watching as some security guards were actually cuffing a pair of guys who evidently got into a fight. Blood was running down one’s chin, and a cut was visible on the other’s cheekbone.

  “It’s hard to get used to,” Cheri commented, making Beth jump in surprise. “I guess we’re all kind of immune to it by now, sadly enough.” She put her arm around Beth in a friendly manner. “Come on. Help me dig up something to eat.” They found a bag of snack mix and a bowl, and returned to the living room together.

  Chad looked up when the girls reentered, and Beth saw him exchange a look with Cheri. “Come here, babe,” he murmured. He raised his arm so she could snuggle in beside him. “Forget about the towel. I’ll dry.” He kissed the top of her head and bent even lower to whisper in her ear. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  She scooted closer and squeezed him, peering up and forcing herself to smile. “Fine.” She raised her voice. “So, Cheri, I noticed you have a little bit of an accent, where are you from?”

  “Why, right here in the beautiful state of Kansas,” she answered proudly. “Atchison, Kansas, to be exact.”

  “Oh, Atchison. Isn’t that where Benedictine is?”

  “Yes. That’s where David and I met.”

  “You went to school in Atchison?” Beth responded in surprise. “That’s a long ways from New York.”

  “That’s because he was trying to get as far away from his big brother as possible,” Chad joked wryly.

  “That’s not true,” David interjected. He turned to Beth to explain. “I needed to grow up, to make it on my own. Ever since I could remember, Chad’s been taking care of me. I love him for it, but it was time I do something for myself.” He spoke with conviction on this point. “Even so, Chad sent me money whenever he could. Money he saved working in seedy dives before someone finally recognized his talent and signed him to a label. And eventually, I missed the bum too much, so I joined the band so I could tag along with him, like old times.”

  “Now”—Chad sat up—“David’s selling himself short here. He’s one hell of a guitarist and an even better artist. He designed all of the cover work for our three albums,” he added with a note of pride.

  “Nah.” David waved a hand to dismiss the idea, though looking both pleased and embarrassed.

  “Oh, come on, honey. You are a fantastic artist.” Cheri turned to Beth again. “You should see the portrait he painted of me and our three girls. It gives me chills.”

  “I’d love to see that some time. So you guys have three little girls?”

  “Yep,” David affirmed, ever the proud papa. Cheri rummaged through her purse and came up with a picture. David took it, pointing to the girls as he talked about them. “Samantha’s six, Alexis is four, and Ce-Ce, our youngest, just turned two. Her real name’s Cecelia, but we call her Ce-Ce. And she’s a little spitfire, that one. Just like her momma.”

  “Oh my gosh. They’re just gorgeous. This one’s Samantha? She looks just like you,” she commented to Cheri. “And your little Ce-Ce reminds me of you, David.”

  “Wish I had some baby pictures of him,” Chad added with regret, “‘cause you’re right. She’s the spittin’ image of Davy when he was young.”

  “And Alex,” Roger chimed in, “she’s a smart little cookie, I’ll tell you. I don’t know how many times she’s twisted my words around in knots and come out with the upper hand.” They all laughed.

  “That’s just ‘cause she has a soft spot for Uncle Roger.” Cheri winked and they all chuckled again.

  Roger leaned back. “Yes, I’d say those Evans boys are lucky in love.” Michelle jabbed him in the ribs. “Oh, and me, too, of course, schnookie-wookie,” he added belatedly, grabbing her and kissing her neck.

  “Well, if you want to ‘get lucky’ tonight, you better be coming up with those compliments a hell of a lot quicker.”

  As the conversation continued, Beth found she was only half listening. She couldn’t shake the image of the girl outside kissing
Chad. She knew she was being stupid, but the whole thing was sort of shocking. Then, she started thinking, he could have any one of those girls out there…

  “What do you say, Beth?”

  “What? Oh, I’m sorry, Roger. What was the question?”

  “We were just wondering if you were up for some cards.”

  “Sure, I love cards. What’s the game?”

  “I don’t know. Hearts? Spades?”

  “Either is fine with me.”

  They began a game of Spades. They played partners so Chad sat across from Beth, and Roger joined forces with Cheri while David and Michelle watched. Pete and Dante went outside, and Keith was catching up on emails on Roger’s laptop. At first, Chad and Beth were dominating.

  “That’s my girl!” Chad cried out after a particularly spectacular hand. Beth, having kicked off her shoes, ran her bare foot up Chad’s long leg. They smiled at each other across the table.

  Roger, catching the look passing between them, yelled, “Hey. No playing footsie under the table.” He appealed to David and Michelle, “They’re sending messages back and forth.” Chad and Beth just smiled more broadly and dealt the next hand.

  But after awhile, Beth found her mind wandering again to what happened outside. It was obvious this wasn’t an occasional thing; it must happen every time they played. He could have a different woman every night of the week, or probably even more if he wanted. Young, gorgeous women, willing to do anything to please him. How could she possibly compete with that? It’s not like I didn’t know he was a rock star, she chastised herself, but it’s so different when you actually see them touching him, hear them crying out for him.

  “Beth, it’s your turn.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” She couldn’t remember what was played.

  “Oh, dude. The ace is still out there.” Even Keith, who just ambled by on his way to the kitchen, knew she misplayed.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Chad. I must be getting tired.”

  “I’m exhausted, too,” Cheri admitted. “You wild boys are used to staying up to all hours of the night.”