by T Gephart
BACK STAGE
Copyright 2015 T Gephart
Published by T Gephart
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This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and scenarios are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Edited by Nichole Strauss from Perfectly Publishable
Front Cover by Gianni Renda
Cover Image by Angelique Ehlers
Back Cover by Hang Le
Formatted by Max Henry of Max Effect
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Connect with T
Books by T Gephart
TEN YEARS AGO
God, he was sexy. All those tanned muscles, popping out proudly. I had to fight the urge not to give the man a standing ovation every time I looked at him. Which was a lot. And I was thankful. Every. Single. Time.
He was different, and I’d known that from the second I’d laid eyes on him. He wasn’t a boy, not like any I’d seen. It wasn’t just that he was older; there was something in his face, the way he walked, that set him apart. He was a man, and he wasn’t shy about showing it.
A black ’72 Mercury Montego fastback had pulled up just before dusk sometime in late May. The rumble of the V8 had me at the window before the car had even been parked in front of Troy’s house. And while the car had initially captured my attention, it was what stepped out of it that made me stand up and take notice. The way he strode to Troy’s door was almost erotic, his movements so fluid and sure that his body screamed sex. He was so hot.
He spent the summer living with Troy and his family, and I had found a renewed sense of religion spending most of my days thanking God for the creation that was Jason Irwin. Having just separated from the Army, his hair was starting to grow out of the regulation high-and-tight, while his body was still in that be-all-you-can-be shape. I whispered my silent thank-you’s to the US Government when he’d pull off his shirt.
It wasn’t just his GI Joe body that had my brain feeling like it had been blended, it was the way he would talk to me when I finally stopped being a chicken-shit and introduced myself. He didn’t treat me like a kid nor did he try and weasel himself into my panties like Dan. He seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say. Those times when he’d give me his attention, my world would stand still and before I could stop it, my heart wanted him more than my hormones.
The temp hadn’t dipped below a hundred in four days straight, with the last days of August proving summer wouldn’t give in to fall without one last fight. Which had encouraged him to be outside a lot, which is where I also seemed to be. I prayed every night the heat wave would never end. It was heaven on Earth. The heat, the night, and him.
“Angie.” His voice rumbled, his eyes slowly opening.
Sleep had been near impossible. After weeks and weeks of hoping, he finally kissed me.
Except it hadn’t been just a kiss.
His mouth had owned mine. His big strong hands around my head brought me in closer as his tongue teased the inside of my mouth. It was hot, my body almost combusting in the overload. I never wanted it to stop.
The flirting back and forth wasn’t new. Every time we spoke, my heart thumped so loud I was convinced a marching band had taken up residence. It had been the same since the moment I saw him, getting to know him had reinforced what I had already guessed. He was perfection. Beautiful. Smart. Sexy. But there was something else, a lingering darkness that I didn’t understand. He was quiet. Not rude, just held back. And damn if he wasn’t a nut I wanted to crack. Last night I had gotten that chance.
“Hey.” The smile on my face threatened to split apart.
This was my favorite view. Jason Irwin lying naked beneath me, his rugged arms holding me close—those dark eyes of his giving me their full attention.
That kiss—the one that would forever be elevated to the best kiss of my life—didn’t end with just some heavy petting. After asking me repeatedly if I was sure, he finally made love to me.
At first he seemed like he hadn’t wanted to. Mumbling something about not being good enough for me. He had always been so concerned about me, so kind, but he didn’t have to worry. It was exactly what I wanted and when I finally convinced him it was okay, he gave in.
Under the moonlight, in the backseat of his car.
It couldn’t have been more perfect.
“Are you okay?” His fingers gently moved over my shoulder and down my arm.
It tickled but I didn’t dare ask him to stop. I’d never ask him to stop. Not when we’d finally gotten together. This was going to be the start of something fantastic. I could just feel it. There were going to be so many more nights like this. Him and me. Holding each other. Loving each other.
“I’m fine,” I breathed against his skin, nuzzling myself closer to his neck. Our legs were twisted within the confined space of his car, the leather sticking to parts of our skin. Did I mention how perfect it had been? It could have been a penthouse bedroom at the Waldorf Astoria and it wouldn’t have been any better. His body knew exactly what to do with mine. Who knew sex could even feel like that? That I loved him, well that just made it better.
“We should probably get dressed; everyone is going to be waking up soon.” His body shifted under mine, the leather creaking in protest as he moved. I didn’t blame it. I wanted to protest, too.
“Yeah, we should.” I fished my bra out of the pile of clothes on the floor and sat up to slide it on. “My dad is going to be heading to work in a few hours; I could make us breakfast as soon as he leaves.” My smile hopefully hinted that he could repay me by taking care of dessert. It was my birthday after all, and I knew exactly how I wanted to spend my day. Naked, with Jason—in case anyone was wondering.
“That’s not such a good idea.” With a flicker of panic in his eyes, he threw water on whatever flames I had going on, his lack of a smile making me nervous.
“Oh?” The word had shot out of my mouth, wondering if he had something better planned. Naked on the beach could also work. It might be a bit sandy, but okay. In any case, we were still going to need to eat.
“Yeah, I think it’s best if we just … did our own thing.”
He wanted to play it cool. Smart. I mean I had just turned eighteen and while I had no issue with the seven-year age gap, my dad would probably lose his shit. He was worried. Of course he was. We’d have to keep it a secret for a while, just until everyone got used to it. Jase moving
away meant it would be easier. We could date and not have to worry about prying eyes and judgmental stares. Troy might be a little weird about it at first, being that he was usually so protective. But he had to think Jason was a decent guy if he’d invited him to stay an entire summer. Plus, once he saw how in love we were, he would come around. How could he not? We wouldn’t have to mention that our first time had been in his backyard while he was blissfully asleep a few feet away. Nope, that piece of information I would take to the grave. And hopefully now Dan Evans would finally get it through his head he didn’t stand a chance. Not now that I had a boyfriend.
“Sure. Did you want to meet up with me later? When the coast is clear?” My panties were next on my redress mission. Difficult, seeing Jase was still naked and not making any effort to cover up. My eyes inadvertently floated down to see his cock was very much awake and ready for me now, rather than later. The surge between my thighs concluding we were very much on the same page. This was going to be the best birthday ever.
“No, Angie. I’m leaving.” He swallowed hard, shaking his head like he was finally convinced. “What happened last night was a mistake.”
“Huh?”
It had been more of a sound than an actual word. My mouth no longer being controlled by my brain as I processed the words he had said. “Leaving” and “mistake” being the loudest.
“We shouldn’t have done that. It wasn’t smart. In any case, it won’t be happening again.”
It was as if a switch had been flicked, the interior of the car immediately chilling despite the sun threatening to rise at any moment. His eyes darkened, emotionless, as he threw on a T-shirt over his head. The amazing guy I had fallen in love with, gone and in his place … someone else.
“I—I know you’re moving. But we can still see each other.” I purposely ignored the other part of his statement. The one where he’d said I had been a mistake.
“No.” He reached down and shoved his legs into his jeans without bothering with his boxers. “We can’t.”
I don’t understand. I wasn’t sure if I had said it out loud or if it was just on a constant loop in my head. What had gone wrong?
“Hey.” He looked at me, I wasn’t sure if it was regret or pity in his eyes. “It’s just better this way. Maybe we should just pretend it didn’t happen.”
“But it did happen.” I blinked, wondering if it was a joke.
“Yeah, it did. But it was a mistake. You understand that, right?”
I felt like I was going to be sick. That word again. Mistake. The bile from my stomach surged uncomfortably as I scrambled to pull on my cotton, crumpled sundress. The one he had told me last night looked so hot on me. Shoes, they weren’t an option as I all but threw myself from his car, the dress barely covering my skin as my feet hit the dirt.
“Yep, no biggie.” I nodded, praying if there was any god at all he would help me not to cry. Not now. Not in front of him while he looked at me so impassively.
“Hey, Angie. Are you okay?” His eyes widened as my shoeless feet hit an overgrown tree root in the Harris backyard.
Pain.
The one in my foot nothing like the one that was going on in my heart. I needed to get away. Now.
“Sure. Dumb tree.” Please don’t cry. Please don’t cry. My legs doing their best to keep me upright and get me out down the side path to the front of the house. “See you, thanks.” My back turned before the first tear fell.
In my head, he’d call after me. Run from his car and tell me that the mistake was this stupid conversation, and not last night.
But that didn’t happen.
And as I made it the short distance next door to the safety of my house, I’d heard the rumble of his V8.
I wished I’d been stronger. Asked him why. But I felt so dumb.
Dumb, that I’d been stupid enough to allow myself to be played.
Dumb, that I’d fallen in love with some guy who had only wanted to fuck me.
Dumb, that I’d fallen for the oldest trick in the book.
By the time I’d pulled my key from my pocket, his black Montego had already driven past.
He was gone.
And he had taken my heart with him.
PRESENT DAY
“Thank you New York and good niiigghhhhhht!” James, our front man, pumped his fist in the air as the techs killed the lights, plunging the stage into darkness.
Opening night in our hometown, and the air was motherfucking electric. Two encores and fans were still chanting for “one more song”, our three-hour set not long enough apparently. And damn if that shit didn’t make me feel bullet proof.
“Jase! Here, dude.” A towel flew through the air toward me as I stepped out from behind the keys; my hand grabbed it and slung it over a shoulder. Was going to need more than that to mop up the sweat that was pouring off me. The excitement wasn’t going to wash off even with the shower.
“Thanks, man!” I said to no one in particular, not sure entirely which one of the roadies had been my hook-up.
My muscles ached, tightly coiled from exhaustion, but even still it would be a hard task to wipe the smile off my face.
“Fuck, that felt good.” Troy toweled off his face as he fell into step beside me, our feet taking us off the stage and down the stairs. “It’s been too long. Recording is one thing, but playing in front of a crowd. That shit never gets old.” Big ass smile on his face was the hint he was feeling the same way I was.
“Truth, right?” Dan jogged up beside us as we made our way to the back of house area. “I don’t give a shit how many times we play Madison Square Garden. Every time I get on that stage, I almost blow my load.”
“Save it for your wife, asswipe; no one wants to hear about your jizz.” Troy’s stank-ass towel flew over my head and clocked Dan right in the mouth. He had it opened too, so that got extra points. I ignored the subsequent name-calling that erupted as a result. It was a case of the same fuck you, asshole I’d been hearing for the last ten years. While the others got vocal with their appreciation, I did what I always did, and kept it locked down.
Not because they weren’t right on the money—that euphoric feeling of playing live for a crowd—nothing else compared. But because big, showy and emotional wasn’t my thing. Not any more at least, and not because I didn’t care. It was just better to keep an even keel. For me, unstable wasn’t a good look. Didn’t mean good things either, so I kept my shit in check. Better for everyone.
We were just five guys playing our tunes. It had always been about that. Difference now was the crowd and the venues were bigger, but if shit went down tomorrow and we were back playing a dive bar in Queens, we’d still be showing up every night and rocking its ass off.
“Awesome show guys.” James clapped his hand around my neck. “This tour is going to be our best yet.”
Our fearless leader was always the last one off the stage, Alex, our badass guitarist, usually leaving a second or two before him. They were our Lennon and McCartney, the drivers of the crazy train, and they usually got more time in the spotlight. None of us gave a shit, far as the rest of us where concerned, it was deserved.
It was the usual back and forth after a show. The high-fiving and us talking shop was our way of unwinding as we made it back to the dressing rooms. Roadies took care of securing the gear while security made sure we kept moving; us hanging around only made their jobs harder. They weren’t assholes about it, but they made it clear that the hallway was not the place for us to get warm and fuzzy.
“Great show.” Lexi Reed, our PR manager, greeted us as we rounded the corner. “Get showered and changed. There’s no meet and greet tonight, but there’s a few people who want to show their personal adoration.” She’d barely gotten the words out when Alex put his mouth on hers. Lucky for him there would be no sexual harassment charges, being that Lexi was also his wife.
The PDA was all now par for the course with every one of the band members hooked up with a significant other. Well, all except for me
, and that was more than fine as far as I was concerned. While it all worked out for them, I’d learnt my lesson early on, and I’d rather piss out razor blades than go through a relationship again. Still, I wasn’t raining on anyone else’s parade. Evil son of a bitch was also something I’d left in my past. The cool, calm and collected Jase version 2.0, definitely the better of the two.
A loud bang echoed through the hall; it was followed up with a piercing and vocal “motherfuuuuucckkkkkerrr!” stopping any further high-fiving and/or lip action. James looked to the door where the commotion was coming from with the same what-the-fuck look on his face as the rest of us. Seemed ground zero was our support act, Unhinged Throttle’s dressing room.
“Hey, maybe we poke our heads in for a sec,” James nodded to the door, “make sure shit isn’t getting too out of control.”
Wise choice, support bands had a tendency to let the excitement go to their heads, especially ones who weren’t seasoned. It was like bringing a virgin to a gangbang— unpredictable, volatile and usually escalated quickly. Taking a look was definitely on the cards.
We let James take the lead as he rapped on the door a couple of times; a loud “come on in” shouted back in response. Good sign; meant at least they were still conscious. Calling 9-1-1 on opening night would have been a buzz kill.
“What the fuck?” Alex’s voice boomed across the room, the door opening to what could have been a scene from a bad movie. Two of the band members were on their knees doing lines of coke off a mirror. The gaping hole in the drywall that looked to be the same size of the reflective surface, a tip-off it hadn’t been an accessory they’d walked in with.
They had company as well. Three naked girls giving blow of a different variety, while two other charming ladies finding an interesting use for a champagne bottle—obviously bigger fans of each other rather than the actual band.
“Hey!” Wade, the lead guitarist waved us over as the girl in his lap kept up her Dyson action. “Welcome to our kingdom. You guys want some H? It’s clean, my dealer is a stand-up guy.”
“Wow, didn’t think when I got out of bed this morning I’d be hearing drug dealer and stand-up guy in the same sentence.” Dan’s eyes widened as he checked out the scene. Had to admit, he was saying what we all were thinking.