I Need You Tonight

by Stina Lindenblatt

  “Which means you either have to propose in front of her family,” Jared said, “or figure out how to get her alone and propose.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Well, you’ve got just over two months to figure it out,” Aaron said. “Good luck with that.” He patted the lead singer on the back commiseratingly.

  We chatted for a while longer before the guys went off to do their own thing. Nolan sprawled out on the couch to read a book. Jared fiddled around with his acoustic guitar, stopping every few minutes to write something down. Mason and Kirk were busy playing a video game, with Aaron every so often giving them some not-so-helpful suggestions.

  I pulled out my sketchpad and started doodling a simple lily, with a bee. It was a nice flower and a nice bee. Which was another way of saying the drawing sucked. I ripped the page off the pad, crumpled it into a wad, and tossed it next to me on the couch.

  “Hey, what’s this?” Mason said, snatching the paper up.

  I jumped off the couch and tried to grab it from his hand. “It’s nothing.” Damn you, Mason, and your long arms.

  He held the paper up so I couldn’t reach it and smoothed it out.

  “This is really good,” he said once he had succeeded. “Why the hell did you throw it away?”

  “Because I’m trying to come up with a design for my line of etched glassware—but this isn’t it. All I seem to be able to come up with is flowers.”

  The laugh that erupted from him caused the guys to look over at us to see what was going on. “And you have something against flowers? You should’ve thought about that before opening a flower shop.”

  “I just want to come up with something different. Something unique and special. Not something you would expect to see in the store.”

  Now I needed a miracle to help me figure out what the heck that was.

  By the time we arrived at the arena where the bands were playing tonight, I couldn’t believe we still had the radio interview and concert to get through. Even though we weren’t doing anything mentally or physically taxing during the trip, it was still exhausting.

  And when we climbed down from the bus and loaded into the waiting van, I was glad they were the ones doing the interview and I just had to watch.

  After another long drive, we pulled up in front of the radio station. Silly me had thought we could walk to the door like regular people. With the exception of a path between the van and the front entrance, the sidewalk was packed with screaming fans.

  “Is it always like this?” I asked no one in particular.

  “Pretty much,” Mason said.

  I surveyed the crowd. Just how secure were those ropes? Would they protect us from being trampled if the fans wanted to get closer to the guys? Yes, they had Brian, their bodyguard, who was a former Marine, but how effective would he be against all those girls? Several men, not quite as bulky as Brian, were standing to the side, doing their best to keep the fans back, but they wouldn’t be too effective if the crowd surged forward.

  “Don’t worry,” Mason murmured, his breath a warm caress against my ear. “I’ll protect you.” His arm brushed my shoulder, and the usual buzz that happened every time he touched me zinged through my body, immediately making me forget about the crowd.

  Brian, who was sitting in the front passenger seat, climbed out and slid open the van’s side door. Excited screams greeted us, which grew to a deafening volume the moment Nolan stepped from the vehicle.

  The rest of his bandmates joined him…and I was left to follow behind, which, when I thought about it, was the safest place to be. If the crowd swarmed them, I’d be ignored while the girls chased down their favorite band member.

  Even though we didn’t have tons of time before the radio interview, the guys stopped to chat with their fans and sign autographs. With the exception of Mason, the guys stayed at arm’s distance from the girls. Mason was more than happy to pose for selfies with them.

  Which was why one girl, who could’ve easily been a model, swooped in and kissed his cheek. A sensation in my stomach twisted into a knot. Jealousy, maybe? Not that I had a reason to be jealous.

  Her lips had barely touched his skin before he took a quick step back. After that he didn’t pose for selfies again. But it might’ve also had to do with Brian hustling the band into the building.

  Because I was a few yards behind the guys, I heard some of the girls scream out names of the individual band members, along with “I love you!” I decided I was going to take that as an appreciation of the band’s music instead of the men themselves—although in the case of a few fans, the opposite was most likely true.

  Mason was the last to step into the building. He glanced over his shoulder and held the door open for me. I hurried past him.

  “You don’t have to walk so far behind us,” he said with that damn sexy smirk he did so well.

  “I’m just an employee. And I don’t want your fans to get the wrong idea and think I’m romantically linked to one of you.” A large number of them were probably disappointed that Nolan’s and Jared’s hearts had already been claimed. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint them.”

  “I’m sure they can handle it.”

  I laughed as the other guys stepped onto the elevator. “Never underestimate a girl’s heart, especially when it comes to her favorite musician or actor.”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “And you speak from experience?”

  “Hey, are you two coming or what?” Kirk called from the elevator.

  “Sure,” I said in answer to Mason’s question as we strode over to join the rest of the band. Well, more like Mason strode; I jogged to keep up with him. “I’ve had my heart broken when my favorite lead singer got married. I had harbored unrealistic expectations that he would see me at a concert and fall undeniably in love with me. His marriage left me devastated for weeks.”

  Mason stopped abruptly and the guys in the elevator groaned.

  “We’ll see you upstairs,” Kirk said, and the doors closed, leaving us behind.

  Mason spun around to face me, his back to the elevator. “You serious?”

  The corners of my mouth twitched. “Of course not. I crushed on him and he fell in love with some model. I moved on with my life.” And, two months later, so did he—after he and his new wife split up.

  I pushed the up button for the elevator. “But the point is, some girls are so infatuated with their crush that they get upset when the guy becomes unavailable. I don’t wish to be the cause of some poor girl’s broken heart when the reason it broke isn’t true.”

  At his doubtful expression, I laughed. “There’s a lot you still have to learn about girls.”

  “I know plenty.” He smiled. It wasn’t a happy smile or a panty-dropping smile. It was a smile full of smugness.

  Inwardly I rolled my eyes. “I don’t mean how to give women orgasms.”

  The door to the second elevator opened, and a man in a business suit stepped out, talking on his phone. He didn’t give us a second glance; clearly his conversation was that riveting.

  “I wasn’t even thinking that,” Mason said.

  Maybe I would have believed that if the smug smile hadn’t still been on his face.

  I stepped inside the elevator. Mason followed, his body too close for comfort. Damn, how long would it take me to become immune to him?

  I didn’t even have a chance to think about that question. No sooner had the doors closed than I found myself pressed up against the wall, Mason’s mouth against mine.

  Turned out I wasn’t the only one who had an issue with willpower.

  I knew I should stop it. That would be the smart thing to do. But my brain and my body apparently weren’t on speaking terms. I parted my lips and let his tongue invade my mouth. If we were lucky, the elevator would get stuck and we would have to stay in here for the next few hours, kissing.

  The bell pinged as the door opened. Someone standing outside coughed. And we continued kissing, Mason’s fingers knotted in my hair.


  The person coughed again. He really should see a doctor.

  A moment later, the bell pinged a second time. “Fourth floor,” announced a voice from beside us.

  A voice in the back of my head pointed out that this was important. I couldn’t for the life of me remember why.

  “You two getting off or not?” This time the voice was laced was impatience—just the bucket of cold water I needed.

  I reluctantly pulled away from Mason and flashed the stranger a big grin. “Thanks.” Without waiting for my partner in crime, I stepped off the elevator…and practically crashed into a woman my age.

  Her long blond hair was pulled back in a perky ponytail. She was wearing a pair of black pants that skimmed her body and an ultra-chic blouse. Her soft suede black ankle boots complemented the outfit perfectly. At least she didn’t look like she had been sitting in a tour bus for the past seven hours.

  Nor did she look like she’d just been making out in the elevator.

  Trying not to look obvious about it, I ran my hand over my hair, doing my best to fix the mess. The other hand did its best to straighten my clothes.

  “Hi, I’m Erin,” she said, sounding like a cheerleader on caffeine. “They’re waiting for you in the studio.” She turned enough for me to spot her intern ID, and she flashed Mason a big grin. She then sashayed down the hallway, leaving us to follow her.

  The rest of the band was setting up when we entered the studio. Each man had a microphone and headphones in front of him on the long table. I introduced myself to the DJs, then outlined what topics they could ask questions on and which were strictly off-limits and would ultimately end the interview. I did my best to look intimidating, but it’s hard to come across as daunting when you’re short enough to have to look up at the people you’re talking to.

  I really needed to start wearing heels.

  Chapter 18

  Mason

  In the studio, I took the empty seat between Nolan and Kirk and put on the headphones. The wall behind the two DJs contained autographed eight-by-ten photos of rock bands, past and present. Some of my all-time favorites were there, with the drummers who had inspired my love for the instrument.

  “All right, guys,” Stacey, one of the DJs said. “I need each of you to speak into your mikes, one at a time, so we can do a sound check.”

  “What do you want us to say?” Nolan asked, then sat back, his part of the test now over.

  “Anything you want,” replied Dennis, the other DJ, even though it had been a rhetorical question.

  “I’m in the mood for pizza,” I said.

  Kirk snorted a laugh. “You’re always in the mood for pizza.” True enough.

  “And beer,” Jared added, stating the obvious. He fiddled with the base of his microphone.

  “I could go for pizza and beer before the show.” That was from Aaron.

  “That’s good, guys,” Stacey said. “And we’re ready to go live in three…two…” She held up her index finger, then spoke into her mike. “We’re back now with the guys from Pushing Limits. And I’ll add that they’re looking mighty fine…Guys, how about you introduce yourselves?”

  We did exactly that. Then, like with all our interviews, she asked about the album, the latest single, the tour—the standard stuff we could answer in our sleep, we’d been asked it so many times. I glanced out the studio window, to the hallway where Nicole was standing. She gave me a thumbs-up and smiled.

  I nodded at her, wishing this interview was over and she and I were back in the elevator, alone. It was less than twenty-four hours since I’d last had her in my arms—if you didn’t count what had happened on the way up in the elevator—and I missed the closeness and having her to myself. I had lusted over women before, but it had never felt like this. Maybe this was advanced-level lust, saved for special occasions.

  “Let’s get a question from one of our listeners,” Dennis said. “Melody, you’re on.”

  “Hi,” a young female voice squeaked in my headphones. “I was wondering which of the guys has a girlfriend.”

  “Okay, guys,” Stacey said, “the females of America want to know which of you are still available.”

  “I have a girlfriend,” Nolan replied, which everyone was aware of after what had happened earlier this year. He’d been romantically linked to the actress Alyssa Graham, but that had been a sham the record label had arranged. It was later revealed that he was in love with Hailey.

  “From the reports I’ve heard,” Stacey said, “you two are pretty serious. Is that true?”

  “More like very serious,” he replied. “There’s no other woman for me.” For a second I wondered if he was going to say more, maybe blurt out a clumsy proposal on the air, but he leaned back in his chair and waited for the next person to answer the question.

  “I’m married,” Jared jumped in.

  “Recently too,” Stacey said. “Congratulations.”

  “Thanks!”

  “Wow, popular with the female fans and already settling down,” Dennis piped up. “How do you do it, Jared? I mean, if I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t bother with settling down. I’d continue to enjoy dating.”

  While he didn’t say it, we all knew what he meant. He wasn’t referring to actual dating. He was referring to what I’d been doing while touring—enjoying backstage sex with anyone interested in going there. But now that Nicole was touring with us, I wasn’t interested in being with anyone else that way—even if, for professional reasons, she and I weren’t allowed to have sex.

  “It’s easy,” Jared said. “I love my wife and can’t imagine being with anyone else.”

  Dennis didn’t look so convinced. Fortunately, Stacey stepped in before he could say anything else. “What about the rest of you guys?” While she might have been asking the question of all of us, she looked specifically at me.

  I had to fight the urge to glance at Nicole standing in the hallway. The moment I did that, one of the DJs might very well jump on it and force me to say something I didn’t want to say—either a lie that would hurt Nicole or the truth. What was going on between us wasn’t up for discussion.

  “I’m currently single,” I replied after a heartbeat.

  “You have quite the reputation of being a ladies’ man, Mason,” Dennis said. “Are you happy to be back on the road?”

  I wasn’t sure what he was implying, since there was plenty of ass back in L.A. that I could’ve hooked up with. My lays weren’t strictly confined to touring. But it was a lot easier dealing with them then, because after the show finished, the band moved on and the girls were left behind.

  “I’m always happy to be on the road,” I said. “Playing live to the fans is where it’s at. It’s why we tour.”

  “It’s how we all feel,” Aaron said, saving me from more questions about my dating life.

  The interview continued until Nicole finally indicated it was time to wrap it up so we could get ready for tonight.

  “Thank you for being on the show,” Stacey said before playing another of our songs and signaling we were off the air.

  “Great interview, guys,” Dennis said. “You handled it like real pros.”

  I wasn’t sure what he had expected. We’d been doing this for well over a year now. We were pros.

  As much as I wanted to ride the elevator with just Nicole and resume what we had been doing earlier, it didn’t look like it would happen. There was no reason for us to not get on with everyone else.

  The elevator door opened, and we all piled in, along with two interns. Nicole and I stood in the back. Everyone else faced forward, waiting for the doors to reopen, exchanging words about the interview, and generally not paying attention to us.

  Encouraged by Nicole’s sweet scent, I rested my hand on her lower back. She stiffened slightly, then her muscles relaxed and she leaned into my touch. I caressed her back with my thumb. She sucked in a small breath, too quiet to be heard by anyone but me. I’d screwed a lot of women over the years, but this was the first ti
me one had left me uneager to walk away from her anytime soon.

  The fans were just as noisy when we left the building as when we arrived, maybe even more so, their screams building in crescendo. We stopped for a moment to sign a few more autographs. Fans from behind surged forward, wanting their chance to get closer to us.

  I scanned the area and spotted Nicole climbing into our van. I let out a relieved sigh that she was safe should something happen. We’d had a few close calls in the past, although nothing the guys and I couldn’t handle. But there was a huge difference between Nicole and us when it came to size and strength.

  Fans reached out, eager to touch us, straining against the ropes designed to hold them back. Sensing things could get crazy soon, we waved goodbye and hustled to the van. As I sat next to Nicole in the back row, the relief I’d experienced a moment ago once she was safely inside the vehicle was now mirrored on her face. I reached for her hand and threaded my fingers with hers. She gave them a light squeeze, her attention focused on the fans outside the window.

  Excitement buzzed in the van as we drove to the arena, and continued to grow as the van entered the parking lot where the tour buses were parked. This was typical before a concert—except usually before our part of the show, I’d fuck a groupie or two to keep the edge off. Some people did yoga to help them relax. Some went for a jog. I couldn’t see myself as the yoga type, and as much as I enjoyed running to keep in shape, it didn’t do much to help me get ready for a show. But since I didn’t want to disappear for fifteen minutes to screw a groupie while Nicole was with us, I didn’t know what else to do.

  We exited the van, Nicole and I no longer holding hands, and entered the arena through the back door. The security guard checked our IDs, which hung around our necks on lanyards, and let us past. For now, Nicole had only a visitor ID, but it permitted her access to most places in the arena the band was allowed to go.

  We were directed to the stage, where the roadies were fiddling with last-minute adjustments to the setup. A huge black banner formed a backdrop, separating Endless Motion’s equipment from our smaller part of the stage. That was the disadvantage of being the opening act: we didn’t get as much room to move around in. Nothing like for the main act. It didn’t matter to me, since I was the drummer. It wasn’t like I could go anywhere. But Nolan loved to move around when he sang, making the most of the stage.