Cross

by Heather Young-Nichols

  The bus came to a stop as I sat on the couch reading a book while Dad was at the table writing. His cold had finally started to subside and he only had a small cough left. Watching him as he worked was interesting, to say the least and I snapped at least half a dozen great shots of him being creative on the drive to Lexington. He never even looked up from the notebook.

  “What are your plans today?” he asked as he shoved that notebook into his messenger bag.

  “Same as always. Take a bunch of pictures.” That wasn’t right. I usually told him everything, yet I’d left out dinner with Cross and had no idea why. That wasn’t us.

  I wrote the decision not to mention it off as me not knowing if dinner meant anything. I didn’t always fill Dad in on my day to day activities so I didn’t feel the need to now. I’d tell him about it if and when there was something to tell.

  “Well, I have to head to soundcheck,” he said as he stood up.

  “What do you think of Courting Chaos?”

  He dropped back across from me. “Each of them specifically or all together?”

  “How about the band as a whole first?”

  “They’re good. I think they have staying power if they don’t fuck it up.”

  This much I knew, but still, I had to ask. “Fuck it up how?”

  “I think that guy Drinkswine is going to be a problem for them. Hell, I think he already is.” He paused, then added, “They’ll need to do something about that. Sooner would be better than later.”

  “Why him?”

  “Look”—he moved over to sit beside me—“I’ve been around this shit for a long time. I know trouble when I see it and that guy is trouble. So do me a favor and steer clear.”

  I snorted and looked over at him. “The last person I want to hang out with is Eric Drinkswine. Gross.”

  Dad chuckled and ran a hand over his face. “Good to hear.”

  “What about the rest of them?” I steeled my nerves to hear whatever he might say that I wouldn’t want to hear. Dad would be honest. There was no getting around that.

  “The rest are good, I think. Dixon is a little squirly from what I know. Not in a bad way. He’s just more… introverted, I guess, which, honestly, isn’t all that odd. Ransom likes the life, but like a normal amount, if that makes sense. Cross… He makes me think of Manny. I’ll see you later?”

  “Yup.”

  He leaned down and kissed the top of my head, then left the bus.

  There were so many worse things in life than to be compared to Manny. Cody might’ve been Dad’s best friend since… forever. But Manny… they used to call him “Pastor Manny” because he didn’t let himself go very often. He didn’t drown himself in the women who threw themselves at the band. Manny was stable though somehow still single. I would’ve thought he’d have been the first to settle down.

  There were definitely worse things to be.

  Dad leaving almost as soon as we arrived gave me more time than I needed to get ready for dinner with Cross. Still, I skipped soundcheck to use that massive amount of time wisely. We’d have to have dinner at five, which was pretty early for my normal days but became exactly what I did when on tour. The bands couldn’t eat later when they’d have to be on stage and nobody liked to go on feeling completely full.

  I had the television on so loudly that I almost missed my phone ringing. When I heard it and reached out to grab it, the phone slid off the table onto the floor. I had to crawl under the table to reach it.

  “Hello?” I said breathlessly without checking the caller ID and sliding out from under the table. I hit my head on the corner on the way up. “Shit,” I muttered and rubbed the spot.

  “Have you heard from Maggie?” Bellamy Harper’s voice shrieked in my ear.

  I pulled the phone away from my head. “Shit, Bellamy, that was loud.”

  “Oh sorry,” she said with a giggle. “I figured you’d be deaf from all that music.”

  “Not yet. So what’s this about Maggie?” I sat back down at the table and checked the spot on my forehead that was already bruising in the mirror.

  “You know she went Ireland with her mom right?”

  “Yeah.” We all knew. She wanted to go but didn’t want to go at the same time.

  “Well, apparently she’s stuck there. She can’t leave.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah. Her purse was stolen or she lost her passport. Something like that.”

  Oh, man. She’d only gone on the trip because her grandpa had kind of guilted her into it. He was supposed to go with her grandma, but her grandpa had broken a leg or a hip. I couldn’t remember.

  “I guess there are worse places to be stuck,” I said. “Hot guys with Irish accents.”

  “That’s what I said.” She giggled again. “But who are you to talk? I seriously need some details on Courting Chaos.”

  I groaned. “That’s a whole other conversation. One I don’t have time for right now because I want to call Maggie before I leave for dinner.”

  “Dinner? It’s still afternoon.”

  “You know we eat early on show days. But hey, if you’re so curious about Courting Chaos, you should come on tour for a little while. You’ve got a week to spare, right?”

  “I will figure it out. Does it matter which week?” Bellamy had gotten a summer job before the semester ended but said it was pretty flexible. It’d be nice to have another girl around for a little while.

  “Not really.”

  “You live a charmed life, Indie Cinderstone, and I don’t think you realize it.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. She’d said that to me so many times over the years. The fact was that I did know it, though. I told her to work out her schedule and get back to me, then ended the call so I could get a hold of Maggie.

  She confirmed she was stuck in Ireland due to not having a passport to get back into the United States. I offered to smuggle her out, but she wasn’t down for it. She did, however, tell me about a possible male distraction for her to pass the time with. By the sound of her voice, I knew said male was nearby. She didn’t want him to hear what she’d say about him. I’d have to wait until she had more privacy.

  Cross and I hadn’t made any specific plans other than to have dinner, so I didn’t know if he was coming to the bus to get me or if I should meet him inside. All we’d agreed on via text was that we were going to leave around four thirty. Courting Chaos was the opening act, so they had to be ready even earlier than Kissing Cinder.

  I grabbed my purse and checked my lip gloss one more time on my way to the door. I’d just find Cross and we’d figure it out from there.

  And then I slammed right into him when I got to the bottom step on the bus.

  “Sorry,” I said, laughing. “I feel like I keep literally running into you guys. Somebody’s going to get hurt one day.”

  “More than all right.” The deep chuckle that rumbled inside his chest vibrated against mine before he took a step back. “But who else did you run into?”

  “Ransom,” I said while rolling my eyes. “In the venue the other day.”

  “Maybe you should wear a bell,” he said with another laugh. “You ready?”

  I nodded and shut the door behind me. This wasn’t a dress-up kind of date and we’d have to get back for the concert, so I’d chosen comfort over cute, though I hoped I still looked pretty cute. Skinny jeans, a tank top, converse, and cross body purse. I could go right to the venue without changing. Plus, we were walking, so comfortable shoes were a must.

  “Sorry we have to go so early,” he said when we turned the corner.

  I didn’t know where we were headed, but I’d go where he led. “No problem. I grew up with this, remember? I totally understand the schedule.”

  “Yeah.” He nudged my arm with his elbow. “I do actually forget that you probably know more about life on tour than I do.”

  “And some of it I don’t even want to know that I know.”

  He stopped in front an understated steakho
use and pulled the door open for me. Cross hadn’t worn the ball cap like he had at the coffee house—perhaps this time he didn’t care if someone recognized him. Then again, why would someone? We were eating at senior citizen hours and most of Courting Chaos’ fans were probably already at the venue.

  As the waitress led us to a table, she glanced back at Cross several times and chewed on her bottom lip but she hadn’t looked at me once. That’s when I knew we weren’t going to slip through this meal without him being recognized. Cross hadn’t requested the high backed booth but the universe knew we’d need a bit more privacy than most.

  “Your waiter, Matt, will be right with you,” she said after handing us menus. Then she continued to stand there.

  Cross dove into the menu so he didn’t notice that she’d stayed. I glanced at him, then her. Then I gave him a little kick under the table and his gaze popped up at me. I raised my eyebrows, then nodded her way so he’d look up at her as well.

  She didn’t need any other encouragement. “I just have to say that I love you guys. I’ll leave you alone, I promise, but I can’t believe you’re in here.”

  “Uh… thanks,” he said back and I did my best not to giggle at how uncomfortable he’d become.

  I’d seen Cross with fans. He was a natural. With this girl, I thought he’d been caught off-guard.

  “Maybe you should get a picture,” I offered, bringing a scowl from him. I had to hide my laugh behind a hand.

  “Ohmigod,” she said excitedly. “Would that be all right? I’m not supposed to have my phone on me, but I do.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Sure.”

  The hostess, whose name I’d missed when we’d come in, wasted no time in dropping into the bench beside him, practically onto his lap. Cross shifted away from her uncomfortably.

  “Did you want me to take it?” I asked, this time getting a scowl from the hostess.

  She looked utterly disgusted, which I’d have said was an overreaction but then she said, “That wouldn’t be a selfie.”

  I raised my hand in defense because she wasn’t wrong. It wouldn’t be a selfie if I took it. Though I didn’t see what difference it made, I wasn’t going to argue with her. Once she snapped it, she hopped up, thanked him, and then kept her promise to leave us alone.

  When Matt arrived, we placed our food and drink order at the same time. Cross settled on a burger and fries, but I ordered a petite steak. Hey, I didn’t have to perform in a couple of hours. I could eat whatever I wanted and I thought Cross was going to regret that burger. As soon as he took our menus, Cross tried to hide a yawn behind his hand.

  “Tired? We could’ve rescheduled so you could nap. You need to shine on stage in a few hours.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Late night?” I asked.

  “Ransom had a girl in the room last night. Didn’t want to deal with it, so I slept in a chair in the lobby.”

  I burst out laughing. Couldn’t help it. That chair probably wasn’t all that comfortable but I would’ve thought Cross wouldn’t have had much of a problem with his roommate bringing an overnight guest. It was likely Cross himself had had a girl in the room more than once, which I didn’t want to think about.

  “Ah, gotta love the girls that come with the music, huh?” I said instead. Cross shifted his weight on the bench. “You know you don’t have to avoid the topic with me.”

  “What?”

  “The girls that are part of this life. What’d Eric call them? Medics for sexual healing. I get it and you don’t have to avoid talking about that part.”

  Though I for sure didn’t want to hear about him with other girls. That would hurt, but I hadn’t seen him around with any, which I could not say for the other guys or the guys in Dad’s band either. Except Cody. He was firmly married.

  “He’s a dick sometimes.”

  “Seems like he’s a dick all the time.” I took a long drink of my water and watched him for a reaction. “But seriously, I’ve been on tour with my dad for a long time. I’m not stupid and I’m not fragile. You guys are going to do what you’re going to do. I can handle it. Though if there’s anything you can do about it, I’d like to never get another offer from Eric to fuck in a closet.”

  “I’ll make sure he’s crystal fucking clear,” Cross growled. “I couldn’t find him last night after the show.”

  “Do that because if my dad has to, it’ll ruin everything.”

  I wasn’t kidding but also couldn’t guess the number of times he glanced down at my mouth as I spoke. I wasn’t sure he was completely focused on what I was saying.

  “So why the lobby?”

  “I told you. Ransom had someone in the room. Didn’t really want to witness it.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time, right?” I shrugged at his visible surprise over my question.

  That was just part of being on the road. But if I were honest with myself, I wanted to see his reaction, get an indication of his opinion of road hookups and maybe of me. Because again, if I were being honest, I was really beginning to like Cross way more than I wanted to.

  “I’ve heard more stories than you could imagine,” I said to keep the conversation going, then cringed as some of the memories popped in my head. “Some I should never have heard. I get it. Rock stars are a different breed. What’s acceptable on the road probably wouldn’t be if you had a normal life.”

  “But this is my normal life.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I said with a sigh. “Hey, if you ever need a place to stay, come find me.”

  “Say again?”

  I giggled and reached across the table to slap his arm.

  “I mean, I’m always somewhere with extra sleep space. In hotels, the couch usually pulls out into a bed. On the bus, even if Dad’s there, we have at least eight extra places to sleep. Hell, the floor counts as number nine.”

  After a long pause, he said, “That’s quite the offer. Not sure your dad would like that, though.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Please. He really won’t care, especially if we tell him why. My bus usually ends up with random stragglers. As long as it’s someone Dad trusts, he doesn’t care.”

  “And he trusts me?”

  I nodded slowly. “Mostly. He doesn’t trust Eric, though. Like… at all.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Cross

  Not trusting Eric Drinkswine was becoming the overall theme of this tour, but I wasn’t going to let it fuck with what little time I got alone with Indie.

  Once we finished eating and I paid, we stepped out of the restaurant into a light patter of raindrops dotting the cement. I’d been so focused on her while we’d eaten that I hadn’t noticed it had started to rain. I wondered if she had.

  “I’ll call a cab,” I said.

  Indie lifted her face toward the sky. We were covered by an awning, so while she was making her decision, we weren’t getting wet. The rain wasn’t even heavy—just constant small drops.

  “How about we walk?” she asked. “I don’t mind getting a little wet.”

  A cough caught in my throat, making it sound like I’d groaned at the implication of what she’d said. My reaction was more surprise than anything else and for a brief moment, a few thoughts of ways I could make Indie wet passed through my mind.

  “Let’s go,” I said.

  We set a decent pace and when we reached the corner, I slipped my hand into hers, locking our fingers. Just holding her hand, knowing she was close, made my chest swell.

  But then the rain picked up and we started to jog. Just as we turned the corner nearest the arena, the sky opened up and unleashed a typhoon of rain onto us. We broke into a full run at the same time. The sound of Indie’s laughter as we pushed ourselves faster made the rain irrelevant. I didn’t care what was happening as long as she kept laughing.

  The fans outside were huddling together under three awnings to try to stay as dry as possible as we ran past them and through the door of the venue. She looked like a drowned rat and I could onl
y assume I did, too.

  “Well, that was an exciting end to a day,” she said as she twisted her hair again and again to wring out the water.

  “I should’ve called a cab.”

  “No way. That was fun.”

  A moment passed between us where she was looking up at me with a small grin and I took a step toward her. I reached up to cup the side of her face and brushed my thumb over her cheek. Indie didn’t break eye contact. A lot of the time, in awkward moments like a first kiss, one of the participants would look away nervously. There was nothing awkward about Indie, nothing nervous. Everything around us fell away and all I could see, all I could think about was getting my lips on hers.

  “What the literal fuck?” Vince Cinderstone’s voice boomed down the corridor.

  I yanked my hand back like we were fifteen and her dad had just caught us making out on the couch. Well, that was sort of exactly what was happening. Though we weren’t fifteen, he was her dad. Indie chuckled silently, her body shaking against mine, so I took a half step back.

  “Hey, Dad,” Indie said with a smile as she turned to him.

  “Where have you been?” he asked her, but he was looking at me.

  “Dinner.”

  “With him?”

  “Dad.” She sighed.

  “Indie, you didn’t say anything about leaving today.”

  “I didn’t?” she asked. “I meant to. We just went to dinner.”

  “Is this why you asked about dating someone in a band before?”

  I turned to her with my eyebrows sky high. She noticed and shook her head at me. Had she been talking about me? And would she admit it?

  “Can I answer that later?” she said instead while pulling at the hem of her soaking-wet shirt. Apparently, there were things that made Indie Cinderstone nervous.

  “I guess,” Vince said, then he looked at me. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  Indie’s face tightened, her lips formed a strained little line, and her eyes were wide. She began shaking her head slowly and took a deep breath as if she was about to say something. I didn’t need her protecting me from her father. If he wanted to talk to me about her or anything else, I’d talk to him. Because I wanted another date with her and this kind of thing was inevitable.