The Love Song of Sawyer Bell (Tour Dates Book 1)

by Avon Gale

  Which, Sawyer reminded herself for the thousandth time, was stupid. She had no claim over Vix’s time; they were friends who were fooling around, that was it. Summer vacation, summer fling. Right.

  “Did you think Jax was hot?” Kit asked her. “I mean, people usually do.”

  Dear God, they were so gossipy. Sawyer wasn’t sure what to say. “He was a nice guy, sure. Cool voice. Good songs.” That was nice and truthful, and hopefully avoidant.

  “Man, girls always want to bang him,” said Jeff. “I should learn how to sing.”

  “Or suck dick,” said Vix, giggling.

  “I tried it! That one time!” Jeff protested. “It wasn’t bad, it just wasn’t my thing. Anyway, Sawyer, if you didn’t want to bang him, you’d be the only girl ever.”

  “Do people actually say bang anymore, because I don’t think they do,” said Connor.

  “I’m a lesbian,” Sawyer announced. What the hell. “So no, not really.”

  “Vix is, like, half a lesbian and she’s fucked him,” Kit pointed out, as if that were reasonable.

  “Not here to play Who Has Vix Fucked,” Vix spoke up. “And being bisexual doesn’t work like that. God, I’m gonna get Mary to give you a lecture. Racer’s merch girl,” Vix said to Sawyer. “She has, like, books on gender equality at Racer’s merch table.”

  “She’s a lesbian,” Kit said. “Right?”

  Vix looked annoyed. “No, she’s straight. She’s also a lot smarter about this stuff than you are.”

  Sawyer wasn’t sure why, but she felt an inexplicable disappointment at her announcement not making any kind of stir among the band. She hated how she was feeling, twisted in knots about too many things that shouldn’t be worrying her, with no idea how to feel better about it.

  Sawyer tried to take a nap, but her brain was whirling and she couldn’t fall asleep. So instead she dragged out a piece of paper and wrote some notes on it, still thinking about the melody for Vix’s song. The one about rebelling and no one hearing you. The melody in her head was louder, but she wasn’t sure that was necessarily a good thing or not. She wasn’t interested in spending the entire summer listening to the sounds of her own angst.

  When it was Vix’s turn to drive, Sawyer pretended to be asleep in her seat in the back. For the first time, she wasn’t beside Vix as she drove through the night.

  Playing in Salt Lake City was always an experience. Vix’s impression of the city was, of course, that it was full of conservative Mormons who didn’t drink and probably wouldn’t want to watch a set of bands featuring bisexual lead singers. Though she’d played there before to crowds that were most certainly drinking. Maybe there was a thriving scene of rebels or something. Still, she had a weird feeling of foreboding as they pulled up to the venue. Maybe that was from a night spent driving on her lonesome, and missing having Sawyer there next to her—reading Vix stupid things on her phone to make Vix laugh, or writing down Vix’s random thoughts in her notebook for her. It had been lonely, despite the fact she’d spent most every other tour alone with her thoughts when it was her turn to drive. Bryant always said he’d stay awake with her, but that lasted about an hour.

  Things felt weird, and Vix hated that. She didn’t want things to be weird. But she had a sinking suspicion Sawyer’s weird behavior around Jax was because she was jealous, and that was not something Vix wanted to think about.

  Jeff had other ideas.

  He caught Vix smoking back by the van and wasted no time bringing it up. “So, you and Sawyer.”

  Vix knew better than to play stupid. “What about us?”

  “Uh-huh.” Jeff leaned against the van. “What happened? Spill it, I know something did.”

  Vix stared at the cigarette between her fingers. She needed to quit again. “We’re having fun. Is that a problem?”

  “Hmm.” Jeff narrowed his eyes at her. “She didn’t seem to be having fun the last few days.”

  True, and Vix didn’t want to think about why that was. She waved a hand. “She’s new at this, and maybe it’s weird to hear everyone talk about how Jax and I have had sex before. That’s all. It is!” she protested, when Jeff didn’t look convinced. “Relax. It’ll be fine. We only have two shows left with Racer, anyway.”

  “Yeah, well, we have a lot more than two shows left on our tour,” Jeff pointed out. “Is she going to be mad at you the whole time?”

  “Why don’t you ask her?” Vix snapped. She took one last drag off her cigarette and threw it on the ground. “Honestly, I don’t know what’s up. She might be tired, but I’ll go talk to her.” Vix didn’t want to do that, but now she had to. “It’s fine, Jeff. Really.”

  “Uh-huh.” Jeff pulled his phone out after one last pointed look in her direction. “Sure it is. Just remember what happened last time, when it was us.”

  “I do, and you’re here,” she reminded him. “We’re friends. Things worked out like they were supposed to and you know it.”

  “I do.” Jeff shrugged. “But it wasn’t like it was easy to get here, Vix.”

  Vix scowled and watched him go, not sure what to say. It wasn’t like she could argue about it. Their relationship’s end hadn’t been as dramatic as some, but it’d definitely sucked.

  Vix found Sawyer in the venue’s greenroom, tuning her violin. “Hey.”

  Sawyer looked up and smiled. Maybe it was a little tight, but her eyes were bright and clear, and Vix started to wonder if maybe she was wrong about Sawyer being mad or jealous. “Hey.”

  “You want to go grab some lunch? We have time before sound check.”

  “Sure.” Sawyer finished with the violin and put it away. She was wearing a pretty blue tank top with a jean skirt, and a pair of sandals instead of her boots. As usual, Vix felt like a scrub next to her as they headed off to a little café a few blocks south of the venue.

  “Is everything okay?” Vix asked, finally, when they were seated at a booth waiting for their food. The silence between them wasn’t entirely comfortable. “Because it doesn’t seem like it is.”

  Sawyer sighed. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m trying to figure out what to do with my life, you know? I’m not happy at Juilliard, but this tour is reminding me how much I love playing, and I don’t know what to do. It seems stupid not to finish up my education, but the thought of going back makes me want to throw up. But as much as I love playing with you guys, I’m the outsider, and I guess it got to me this time. Since you—y’all are friends with Racer.”

  Vix eyed her thoughtfully. This answer seemed nicely convenient. Almost too much so. “That’s really what’s bothering you?”

  “That’s not enough?”

  “Right, no, it is. I wanted to make sure.” They were dancing around the subject, but hell, maybe Vix was wrong and being a narcissist. Maybe Sawyer was telling the truth and Vix was projecting or imagining things.

  “Sure,” said Sawyer, as the waitress appeared with their lunch.

  “I’m sorry if you felt left out or anything,” Vix said, as they ate. “It’s a lonely life, sometimes. It’s always nice to have people around that feel like family.”

  Sawyer nodded. “I bet. And they’re nice,” she added. “Racer, I mean. The merch girl’s cute.” She blushed prettily. “Too bad she’s straight.”

  “That, and she’s got a strict no-musicians policy. Ask Jeff. And Kit.” She rolled her eyes. “I guess we’re an incestuous family. Like a V.C. Andrews novel up in here.”

  Sawyer giggled, and things seemed to be back to normal. Vix didn’t know if she’d invented the jealousy thing or what, but she couldn’t deny that she was relieved they didn’t have to talk about it.

  That doesn’t mean it’s not there. It means you didn’t talk about it.

  They spent the next few hours walking around and looking in some of the shops near the venue. Vix didn’t run into any of her bandmates, who were probably hanging out in the greenroom and sharing the pot they’d gotten in Denver. Vix had never been a fan of smoking weed, and Sawyer told her t
hat the one time she’d tried to smoke it, she’d coughed so hard she’d thrown up. Of course she had.

  Things were fine the rest of the afternoon, up to and including sound check. Sawyer was quiet, but that wasn’t necessarily anything new. Vix decided she must have imagined the jealousy thing after all, because Sawyer was talking and laughing with Jax—he was so friendly, it was hard not to be won over by his gruff charm and whiskey-stone voice—and playing “Embers of Ashes” for him on her violin.

  “You should come on stage with us when we play that,” Jax told her, admiringly, as Vix wandered over to join them. “She’s good,” he said to Vix.

  “I know,” Vix said, and she and Sawyer exchanged a look and a private, amused little smile.

  Jax was a lot of things, and perceptive was one of them. He gave Vix a raised eyebrow look. Vix ignored him.

  “I don’t know if I know it well enough to do it on stage,” said Sawyer to Jax. “But if you want, I could probably have it for the next show in Portland.”

  “Yeah? Cool.” Jax grinned at Vix. He wiggled his eyebrows. “I’m going to steal your fiddle player.”

  Vix flipped him off. Sawyer laughed, and Vix felt like an idiot for mistaking Sawyer’s feeling left out for something it wasn’t. Which was good. She didn’t want Sawyer to be jealous, because this thing with the two of them, it had a lifespan that would come to an end along with August.

  Still. It wasn’t over yet, was it? Vix grabbed Sawyer’s arm after she’d stowed the violin, a few hours before showtime, and pulled her close. “Want to go somewhere and horrify the Mormons by making out?”

  “Like, in front of them?” Sawyer asked, her eyes wide. “You’re weird.”

  Vix snorted. “Sawyer.”

  “I would make out with you in front of Mormons, Victoria, but it’s not gonna do anything for me,” Sawyer informed her. “If you’re into public Mormon exposure, though, I can do that for you. Sure.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” They found a nice, secluded little spot by the loading dock, and Vix pushed her up against the wall, crowding her. “I like these dresses you wear. Easy access.” Vix ran her hand up Sawyer’s leg, walking her fingers up closer and closer to the edge of her panties.

  Except there weren’t any. She raised her eyebrows and looked at Sawyer expectantly.

  “Do you want the real reason I’m not wearing underwear or the sexy one?” Sawyer asked.

  “Well, I’m pretty sure the real one is about laundry, so.” Vix palmed Sawyer’s cunt. Her slit was already wet. Damn, it made Vix feel like an irresistible goddess when Sawyer got wet that fast. She smiled and kissed Sawyer, slipping her fingers inside and rubbing at Sawyer’s clit with her palm. “But what’s the sexy one?”

  Sawyer kissed her back, legs spread as she shivered from Vix’s hand on her. “The thing you’re doing right now. That’d be it.”

  They didn’t really have time or privacy for Vix to get Sawyer off, but they made out until she heard footsteps in the hall next to their secluded alcove. Vix pulled her fingers free, and this time, Sawyer grabbed her hand and licked them clean.

  “You’re really good at this,” Vix told her, warmth curling in her stomach at the feel of Sawyer’s mouth on her fingers, the flick of tongue and the nip of teeth.

  “I pay attention.” Sawyer leaned in quick and kissed Vix. “I’ve got a good teacher too.”

  “Shush, you.” Vix smiled, pleased despite herself. “Let’s go back to the greenroom and be smug at how hot we are.”

  “Cool.” Sawyer followed her, and Vix was relieved that everything seemed to be back to normal. The show went well, and they watched Racer from the sides of the stage, laughing at Jax’s banter and the rowdy crowd.

  “Do you see all these fanboys who are looking up at him like they want to suck his dick?” Vix asked. “Mary calls them ‘fan-bros.’”

  Sawyer snorted. “That’s appropriate. Yeah, those guys in the front row are intense.” She was quiet for a moment, watching as Racer segued into a slower song about Jax and his continuing problem with fidelity. “You never thought about dating him, then?”

  Vix glanced over at her. “Are you kidding? They tour more than we do. It’s hard enough when one person has this schedule, let alone two of them. Can you imagine?” She shook her head. “I like Jax a lot, and he’s a hell of a musician, but no. I’m sure there’s someone out there for him, but it ain’t me.”

  After a few more songs, Vix nudged Sawyer with her elbow. “So, we’re driving straight on tonight to Portland. And we’ll have one last chance to rock out to Racer tomorrow.”

  “Thank you for the reminder, Google Calendar,” said Sawyer.

  Vix stuck her tongue out. “I was thinking we could go find that alcove for a bit while no one’s missing us.”

  Sawyer slipped her hand in Vix’s and squeezed. “Mark me as attending that event,” she joked, and let Vix pull her away.

  Sawyer was getting settled in the greenroom at the Wonder Ballroom in Portland when she realized she’d left her bottle of water in the van. It was a brand-new bottle of water too. Not one she’d been refilling constantly for two weeks, the plastic slowly losing its shape and bending in mysterious ways from the pressure of her fingers. No, this was a nice, firm new bottle of SmartWater with the cap unbroken, and she’d been saving it for before the show. Portland wasn’t as hot as some of the other places they’d been, but the water would be warm and gross from baking in the van if she didn’t retrieve it.

  Damn it all. Sawyer went and found Jeff, who was deeply engrossed in his preshow ritual of eating chips and watching Netflix on his phone. She tapped him on the shoulder.

  He looked up at her with a smile and tugged the headphones from his ears. “Hey, what’s up?”

  She held her hand out. “Can I have the keys to the van? I need to rob a bank and go on a joyride for a few hours. It’s my version of Netflix and Chill.”

  Jeff grinned. “You’re so much funnier than I thought you’d be.” He dug in his pocket before producing the van keys and tossing them at her. “Fill it up with gas first, would you?”

  “You never saw me,” Sawyer intoned, wiggling her fingers with the keys grasped in her palm. “And I was never here.”

  He laughed and went back to his show, and she left the venue’s greenroom and headed toward the exit. The vans were parked behind the ballroom, and awesomely, all the music gear was already in the venue and everyone’s personal belongings were stowed in the hotel. They’d have a night here and then a drive to Seattle. She was looking forward to that, and to the show in Vancouver.

  After retrieving her water, she made her way back inside—only to be immediately assailed by the smell of weed coming from the greenroom.

  She’d been gone for less than five minutes, and already the guys had lit up a pipe. Sawyer sighed. Everyone must have consumed all their edibles from Denver, which was a shame. She didn’t mind the idea of pot, but the smell wasn’t her favorite. For some reason, Vix’s cigarettes never bothered her. Though maybe that was because—well. Because it was Vix.

  Sawyer decided to take a detour and headed toward the empty stage. She was glad that she’d never said anything about being jealous of Jax to Vix at that show in Salt Lake. It had warmed her considerably that Vix knew something was wrong and had taken the time to find out what it was. That, coupled with Sawyer’s admittedly immature stunt of not riding in her usual seat next to Vix, made her determined to forget it. They’d had fun in Salt Lake. That memory of sitting on a road case with her spread legs draped around Vix’s shoulders and Vix’s mouth on her, making her come . . . yeah, that was going to be a favorite for a long, long time.

  Everything was fine, and she still had a month to figure out what she was doing with her life. All the problems that should be at the top of her list weren’t going to go away, meaning she could deal with them later. For now, she was having fun, goddamn it.

  As Sawyer rounded the corner, she saw Vix sitting on the edge of the stag
e. Thinking she was scribbling in her notebook or something, Sawyer almost called out to her. Until she realized that Vix was talking to someone—Jax. They were alone in the empty theater, okay, no big deal. Sawyer could deal with this. She wasn’t feeling left out, and she wasn’t jealous. Check. She should turn around and let them have their privacy.

  “So, you know it’s the last show tonight,” Jax said, leaning against the stage next to Vix.

  Vix, who was in her usual jeans and biker boots with a tank top, leaned back on her palms. Her tattooed arms looked very pale under the harsh lights. “Not for me.”

  “You know what I mean,” said Jax, moving closer. He put a hand on her knee. “Won’t see you for a bit. Thought maybe you’d want to help me go out with a bang.”

  “That’s a terrible joke and a worse come-on, Jax.”

  Sawyer found herself, hidden in the shadows on the side of the stage, unable to move. She was staring at Jax’s hand on Vix’s knee, the way he was leaning in and how Vix wasn’t shoving him away.

  “You want me to ask it all pretty, is that it?”

  “I mean, some effort would be nice, sure.” Vix sounded teasing, amused . . . Sawyer knew that tone well. It made her grip the water bottle, denting the plastic though it wasn’t open yet.

  “You hate that come-on bullshit, though,” Jax said.

  “True.” Vix was quiet. “Not gonna happen, though.”

  Not No, I don’t want to. Sawyer should really leave, but she knew she wasn’t going to. Especially when Jax said, “This ’cause of your smoking-hot fiddle player?”

  “She has a name, you know.” Vix still wasn’t pushing Jax away.

  “Hell, bring her along,” Jax offered, and Sawyer could see him grinning. “You know I’ll never turn that down.”

  “She’s a lesbian, Jax. Also, I’m going to tell Mary you’re making bisexual stereotypes again.”

  “You like threesomes, though,” Jax pointed out, as if that were very reasonable.

  “I’ve enjoyed them in the past, as is my goddamn right as a sex-positive woman.”