“No. You’re right. It’s gross.” He barked out a laugh.
“Well, duh. I could have told you that. Toasted fish flakes on a hot dog. That is so disgusting.”
“Hey, the guy said that’s the way locals eat it.”
“Whatever. Next time you order a dog, ask a New Yorker. By the way, no one eats a hot dog with a fork, either,” she pointed out with her lip twitching and a teasing shove.
Marcus pushed Avery back, grinning. “At least I won’t have onion breath from hell. How do you ever expect to get a girlfriend eating crap like that?”
Like I would want that to happen, she thought. Maybe I should change my order and ask for extra onions.
While they were eating, Avery noticed a young teenage girl wearing a Brutal Strength t-shirt coming towards them.
The girl tapped Marcus on the shoulder. “Hey, aren’t you Marcus Anthony from Brutal Strength?” she asked, shyly.
Marcus noticeably tensed but when he turned around his smile was warm and genuine. “Yes, can I help you?”
“I really love your music. Could I have your autograph?”
“Sure.” He nodded and signed her notebook with the pen she provided. Thanking him profusely, the girl turned and walked away. Marcus let out a shaky sounding sigh.
“Why do you look so freaked out, Marcus?” Avery asked, puzzled by his response. “She seemed harmless.”
“One fan, I don’t mind,” he explained. “But sometimes,” he looked around as if he was uneasy, “it can snowball and all of a sudden there are tons more. It can get out of hand real fast.”
“Sounds like you say that from personal experience.”
“Yeah, unfortunately, I got this,” he showed Avery the scar on the back of his hand, “in a mall last year in Dallas. I had to have stitches afterward.”
“No way,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief.
“That’s why my dad’s been pressuring me to get a full time security guard, a more formal permanent thing than what I have Ray doing now. But if I do that, I can just kiss away having any type of normal life, yeah?”
Before she could respond, his Mercedes pulled up. “Oh, here’s Ray. I texted him earlier to let him know where we were.” Suddenly, he leaned in close, his face an inch away from hers, and sniffed.
What the heck? Avery’s gaze dropped to his lips, her heart thumping wildly.
“Whew! Dragon breath,” he pronounced with an exaggerated cough, waving his hand in front of his face. As if anticipating retaliation, Marcus jogged backward toward his ride. “Later, Stinkenstein!”
By the time Avery snapped out of her Marcus induced stupor, he was already in the car and it was pulling away from the curb.
EXITING MARCUS’ ELEVATOR that evening, Avery went straight to where he stood in all his handsome glory in the foyer and punched him in the shoulder.
He staggered back, making a big production of pretending to be hurt. “Is that the best you’ve got?” He straightened up, smiling. “Don’t tell me you’re still sore about my joke earlier?”
She shook her head, smirking. “No, I'm good now.” Twisting the hem of her shirt, she followed him into the living room. “I put some overdubs on ‘Brothers’ this afternoon. Did you get a chance to hear them?”
“I did. I think they sound fantastic.”
Avery scrunched her face up. “It’s so tedious to play the exact same part over and over again, but I really like the fuller sound it brings out.”
Marcus nodded. “Come into the kitchen and I’ll make some tea. I really want to hear about your song.”
Once Avery had the warm mug in her hands, they moved back into the living room and sat down across from each other. Avery’s knee started bouncing up and down. Marcus looked pointedly at her. “Hey, stop that,” he ordered. “Don’t be nervous. I’m sure it’s good, so don’t worry. If it’s not something I think is right for the album, trust me, I’ll tell you. Let’s always be honest with each other. I’ve got more than enough people around who blow smoke up my ass.”
Inwardly Avery cringed. More and more her deception was tangling her up in knots, but she just gave him a nod. She was in too deep to turn back now. She unpacked her guitar and pulled out her journal, flipping through the worn pages.
“Can I see that?” Marcus asked.
She nodded and passed it to him for closer inspection.
He was quiet for a while examining the pages. “Pretty impressive. You draw too?”
“Just a little,” she shrugged, taking the journal back when he offered. Her emerald eyes connected with his. “I’m nervous about whether or not you’ll like the song. Justin told me it was too sappy to use.”
“Let me be the judge of that, Avery. Maybe it was just too emotional of a thing for him to deal with.”
“Maybe you’re right,” she conceded, laying her notebook on the glass coffee table and pulling her guitar onto her lap. “He also said the chord progression is too simple and sounds too much like Aerosmith’s ‘Dream On’…” She trailed off as she started playing the sweet melody, singing the words with her voice lowered to a whisper…
Ages since I saw your face
My tears fill the empty space
Details that I can’t recall
Afraid I’m gonna lose them all
Mom, while memories fade, your songs reveal
Our love remains, my heart will heal
A box of music I keep close
For when I need your presence most
Mystery it holds for me
What’s inside brings clarity
Mom, while memories fade, your songs reveal
Our love remains, my heart will heal
Though I sing each out of my despair
Deep inside I know you’re there
Words unlock each memory
Your warmth, your smile returns to me
Silence filled the apartment when she finished. Avery shifted around self-consciously on the sectional, anxious to find out what Marcus thought.
Marcus exhaled slowly and said in an awed whisper, “Whoa… I could really feel the longing and sadness in the lyrics. Avery, I have to tell you songs like that are the reason I do what I do.”
She nodded, knowing exactly what he meant.
“And you have to be the one to sing it on the album.”
“Oh, no, no, no.” She shook her head reluctantly, always uncomfortable being the center of attention on stage. Justin had never pushed her to do anything more than backup vocals, and that’s the way she liked it.
“Listen,” he said, putting his hands firmly on her shoulders for emphasis. “I can’t even sing in that key. Besides, you’ve got to know you have a great voice, Ace.”
She grinned, pleased by the compliment, and the fact that their relationship had apparently progressed to the nickname stage.
“I am more than happy, being the prima donna I am,” he continued, dimple peeking out, “to sing lead most of the time, but this is your song, for your mom, ok?” He sat back, seeming to be waiting for her to agree.
She closed her eyes for a moment, hesitant. But she wanted to do this to honor her mother’s memory, and Marcus believed she was capable of doing it. Reopening her eyes, Avery nodded in agreement.
“The song’s great as it is, but …” He stood up and motioned for her to follow. “Bring your stuff. I want to show you something.”
Avery followed him down the hall to the studio, her lids lowering appreciatively as her gaze slid down from his broad shoulders to his longs legs. She found herself utterly captivated by the view of his back side.
Her cheeks warmed. The man sure looked great in his jeans. The denim was a perfect showcase for his assets.
Lost in her reverie, Avery almost ran into him when he unexpectedly stopped inside the studio doorway. Fortunately, she avoided a collision by stutter-stepping to the side. She ducked her head to hide her flaming cheeks from view, and brushed quickly past him to enter the studio.
Crossing t
o the back wall, she gently set down her guitar on one of the stands. When she turned back around, Marcus had already taken a seat at the piano. Whew, crisis averted. She shook her head, wondering if there were any instrument he didn’t know how to play.
He motioned her over. “I think it might sound better if we switch over to the piano for the chorus.”
As he demonstrated, she couldn’t help but be impressed by how flawlessly he duplicated the music she had just played in the other room. Leaning against the ebony Grand, she nodded. “You’re right, the piano definitely lends a more melancholy feel to the song.” Exactly what she had wanted. “It’s perfect, Marcus.”
After a couple of hours, they were both pleased with the arrangement of the song. Marcus was one of those artists who instinctively knew where to add each additional element to a song, taking it from above average to extraordinary.
He called Dalton to let him know to expect another recording, and then arranged to meet with the rest of the band at Black Cat the following afternoon to finalize it.
Marcus looked at his watch, wincing at the time. “I’ve got an early morning workout with my trainer. I’m doomed. He’s going to kick my butt.”
Avery bit on her lip to keep from smiling. Mind, do not go there.
“I’ll call Ray to take you home.”
When he hung up, he grinned and clapped Avery on the back. “I can’t believe we have two songs for the album already. I am so stoked.” His expression turning serious, he admitted, “I feel privileged to have this song on the album, Ace. And I’ve got to say working with you these past few days, collaborating like we have,” he pointed back and forth between the two of them, “it’s been almost like a spiritual thing for me.”
“Me, too,” Avery managed to whisper, while thinking to herself how very quickly their relationship had become that and so much more meaningful to her.
COLEMAN WAS REALLY torturing Marcus, alternating cardio and weights with little rest between sets. Stephen had insisted Marcus get a personal trainer after he came back from the Betty Ford Center. Marcus, never having worked out a day in his life, had almost run the other way when he’d first been introduced to Larry Coleman. Built like an NFL linebacker, all six feet of him solid muscle, Coleman was an intimidating dude, the kind who made you feel like you had to go into training just to start working out with him.
Ok, ok, in reality Marcus was actually really grateful to Stephen for the directive. He had been right about exercise being a healthy stress reliever. It helped Marcus channel his frustration when people inevitably didn’t measure up to his high expectations and standards.
Marcus could barely catch his breath. His arms trembled with exhaustion. Coleman’s workouts were a challenge on a good day, next to impossible on a bad one. Today fell into the latter category.
Though physically worn out, his mind still raced. His thoughts kept coming back to the newest member of Brutal Strength. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was about Avery that intrigued him. He had meant it about the connection they shared. They both felt the same way about music, that creating it was a compulsion, a passion, and not just a job.
But he knew there was something more. Something he couldn’t quite identify. Something so totally different from any of his previous friendships that it puzzled him. Why did he want to be around Avery all the time? And why did he feel this overwhelming desire… to protect the emerald eyed flame haired guitarist?
“Hey Marcus, pay attention.”
Marcus swore Coleman had a maniacal gleam in his eye.
“You still have five more minutes. Plenty of time to do twenty more burpies!”
Marcus groaned, dropped to the ground, and began the set of squat- thrust- pushups.
LATER THAT AFTERNOON, Dalton caught Marcus just as Ray dropped him off at the studio. “Hey. I just heard ‘Brothers’. Wow! It is wicked good. Queen Mary is salivating all over her royal self. She already has plans in place to release it as a single.”
Marcus looked at him with chagrin. “I haven’t even heard the final version yet.”
“Well come on, dude. Come listen.” Dalton pulled him into the mixing booth, put the headphones on Marcus’ head, and started the tape.
Marcus listened, transfixed. Avery’s opening guitar riff was immensely appealing, the lyrics were catchy, and as usual, Dalton’s arrangement was nothing short of masterful. Marcus ripped off the headphones, a big grin covering his face. “Dalton you are a genius!”
“I know. I agree.” He smirked. “But you guys aren’t half bad yourselves. You know Avery is here with Dwight working on ‘Mother’s Gift’. Dude, you guys are scaring me with the stuff you’re doing.”
What the hell did he mean by that exactly? Marcus worried. Were his crazy feelings for Avery that noticeable? “What studio are they in?” he asked, thoughts an unsettled scramble.
“Three.”
Marcus walked quickly down the hall. Hearing Avery’s soft laughter through the open doorway, he stopped surprised by the way the sound of her happiness seemed to suddenly brighten his mood, which admittedly had been mostly dark this past year. He was starting to feel a lot of confusing things involving their new guitarist.
When he entered the room, Avery’s eyes lit up.
Dwight smiled at him. “What’s going on bro?”
Before Marcus could answer, JR stumbled in. “Hey, man. Where the hell have you been?’ Marcus asked him, wrinkling his nose. “You smell like an ashtray.”
“Looks like you slept in your clothes,” Dwight added.
“Killer party last night, Rhianna was in town,” JR said, looking directly at Marcus. “Sorry you missed it, dude.”
“I’m not. It’s not my thing anymore,” Marcus responded tersely. He walked over and stopped in front of JR, getting right up in his face. “Are you drunk? You know we’re recording today.”
“Back off! My personal life is none of your business! Control freak,” JR muttered the last bit under his breath. Looking furious, he flopped down on the stool behind his drum kit.
“It is my business when it affects the band!” Marcus shouted, apparently not willing to let the matter drop.
“Dude, please. You are such a hypocrite! You were so messed up last year at the Garden you couldn’t even remember the lyrics to ‘Moon Rising’. Self-righteous prick.” He gave Marcus the middle finger salute.
Marcus came unglued. He barreled across the room toward JR, hands balled into fists. Dwight dropped his bass and moved to break up the pending altercation, but Avery got there before him.
Avery stopped in front of JR’s drum set, and planted herself between the two of them. She grabbed JR’s forearm with one hand and swiveled around toward Marcus with her other hand held out like a traffic cop Marcus’ solid chest coming right into contact with her open palm.
Avery released JR, stumbling back a bit from the force of Marcus’ momentum. Her brain shut down as her body went into sensory overload. He was so close, so very warm, and he smelled divine. She could feel the tension in the muscles flexing beneath her fingertips. Her cheeks flushed, and her eyes flashed up to Marcus’ handsome face.
Marcus stood completely motionless, body feeling as tightly strung as a bowstring, eyes flaring with…with…. He looked down at Avery’s hand on his chest as if expecting to see smoke erupting from the point of contact. Why the hell did their guitarist smell so effing good?
Avery ripped her hand back, cradling it to her chest like it had been burned. Her widened green eyes met his dark dilated blue and her only coherent thoughts were, Move! Quick! Abort! But there was nowhere to go, as she soon found out when she tried to back up and almost sat down on JR’s bass drum.
“Whoa,” JR cautioned, holding Avery up from behind so she didn’t fall.
Marcus remained glued in place, his intense gaze locked with hers.
Avery wanted…she wanted…him, but she couldn’t have him. She shook her head finally coming to her senses, averting her eyes. She pivoted around to fa
ce JR. “Thanks, man. I am such a klutz.”
Dwight pulled Marcus over toward him and whispered, “Dude, what the hell was that?”
“What do you mean?” Marcus' voice was husky, and he felt dazed.
“The way you almost took JR’s head off just now. What did you think I meant?” He glanced back over his shoulder at JR and Avery.
“Nothing, I don’t know, man.” He raked fistfuls of hair through his hands.
“Well, figure it out then. I think you and JR need to talk. Seems like there’s some unfinished business there.” Dwight called to Avery, “Hey, Avery, wanna get a Coke while these two kiss and make up?”
“Sure.” She followed Dwight out of the studio, relieved to have a chance to regroup.
Marcus was the first to speak after they left. “Dude, you're right. I shouldn’t have jumped your case just now. I know I really eff’ed up last year, I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s on me. I’ve got a terrible hangover, and I took it out on you.” He extended his hand to Marcus, who grabbed it. “No hard feelings, man. Who am I to judge anyone?”
Down at the break room, Dwight and Avery were just sitting down with their sodas when Beth walked in. “Hey guys,” the PR rep said, grabbing a yogurt out of the fridge. “Mary wanted me to let you know she’s called a tech crew in to shoot a video of ‘Brothers’. The plan is to release a live performance of it straight to the internet as soon as possible. We think it’s going to be huge.”
Eyes wide, she leaned in and whispered, “Mary’s even trying to pull some strings to get Brutal Strength’s slot at the Grammy nomination concert moved up to be the grand finale.” She looked around the room. “Hey, where are Marcus and JR?”
“Working out some personal stuff,” Dwight answered. “We’ll relay the message.”
“Ok, sure. Tell Marcus to call me,” she said, sticking a spoon into the yogurt container as she left the room.
Avery’s thoughts were in a whirl as she took all that in. Holy cow, a music video and a Grammy concert! She wasn’t some nobody from New York anymore. It didn’t occur to her in that moment that it might’ve been better if she had been.
Love Rock'ollection: The Brutal Strength Rock Star Trilogy, books 1-3 Page 7