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

by Avon Gale

  Jax took a step back and crossed his arms. “Seriously, though, it’s cool. Sawyer’s great. But isn’t she going back to school?”

  Sawyer’s heart was hammering so hard she could barely breathe.

  “She’s going back to school, yeah. That’s her plan, anyway.”

  “Well, then, I guess I’ll have to wait until we next see each other on tour. You might be in the mood for some di—”

  “Finish that sentence and I really am telling Mary you’re being insufferable,” Vix laughed.

  He didn’t need to finish it. Sawyer knew what he’d been about to say—and that was the thing that made her turn and walk away, without listening to the rest of their conversation. The thing that Vix was missing, that Jax could give her that Sawyer couldn’t. And not only that—Sawyer did know what was up with the casual tour thing. Vix had made it clear from the beginning, and hell, hadn’t Sawyer been telling herself the same thing?

  She went outside again, fingers shaking, and untwisted the top of her water bottle. She had no right to tell Vix not to hook up with Jax if she wanted. And Jax was right, this was the last night they’d be playing with Racer. Sawyer would have Vix to herself for—

  No. She’s not yours. You don’t have her at all.

  Sawyer took a long drink of her water, ignoring the way her stomach was clenching with nerves, and thought about what to do. She could either confront Vix and make a big deal about this, or stay out of it. It wasn’t her business if Vix wanted to hook up with Jax. She was going to have to be okay with it. There were no other options.

  You aren’t here to have sex with Vix; you’re here to play your violin. Remember that.

  Sawyer took another drink of her water and accidentally dropped the cap on the ground. The ground was dirty, littered with cigarette butts and some mud from recent rain. She’d planned on finishing the water so she could keep the bottle, but whatever. Apparently all her plans were shit.

  She finished her water in one long drink, chugging it like a frat boy chugged beer, and defiantly threw it away in the trash can—after making sure it was the one for plastics. Then she marched into the greenroom, gave Jeff back his keys without meeting his eyes, and found her violin. She closed her eyes as she tucked it under her chin and began to play the melody she’d been working on the last few weeks. The notes were strained from her obvious tension, but somehow it seemed to fit.

  Jax never asked if she wanted to play his song, and Sawyer didn’t remind him. On stage that night, she played with her hair in her face, trying to lose herself in the music and pretending it worked.

  Sawyer sat back in her seat in the greenroom, watching the postshow craziness as everyone got their gear together and made plans to head back to the hotel. The hotel where both bands were staying. She was determined that Vix have her night with Jax, so the second they’d stepped off stage she’d made herself scarce to give them time to . . . arrange things or whatever.

  After stowing her violin and loading it into the van, she’d wandered back in and sat down, not with Vix on the sofa, but on the floor with Kit, Connor, and Racer’s drummer, Craig. They were passing a pipe around.

  “No way.” Connor squinted through the smoke. “We, like, do this out of the way so you won’t have to deal with the smoke.”

  Ugh, why did they have to be so nice? Sawyer plastered a smile on her face and tried her hardest not to fan the smoke away. “I wanted to say hi, that’s all.”

  “Hi.” Craig waved at her. “You are, like, super pretty.”

  Sawyer blushed, then had to laugh. His eyes were red and blurry, eyelids so heavy she doubted he could see her. “Thanks. Y’all are an attractive group of pot-smoking musicians.”

  They cracked up at that, probably because they were high. Sawyer saw Jeff giving her a strange look, and she wondered if he knew she and Vix were sleeping together. Sawyer ignored him and tried to pay attention to the conversation going on around her, but not being stoned made that pretty much impossible.

  Finally she wandered over to where Jeff was talking to Andy, Racer’s guitarist. She could see Vix from the corner of her eye, talking to Jax and Mary, the merch girl. Every so often Vix would look around, and Sawyer would snap her attention back to Jeff and Andy. Who were discussing guitar brands and strings, a conversation that she could somewhat participate in, which was nice.

  “Sawyer!”

  At the sound of Vix calling her name, Sawyer took a deep breath and looked over at Vix. “Yeah?”

  “Come here, silly,” Vix said, patting the sofa next to her.

  Oh God, did she want to see if Sawyer was into a threesome after all? Only if it was with Mary. Sawyer got up and grabbed a beer that she probably wouldn’t finish, heading over. “Hey, guys.” She didn’t sit down.

  Vix gave her that crooked smile of hers. “I like how you were visiting all the groups of people like we’re at a party.”

  “I like to socialize,” said Sawyer.

  “Since when?” said Vix.

  Sawyer hated how cute Vix was, how easy their banter was, and how much she wanted to climb on Vix’s lap and kiss her.

  “Hey, Sawyer,” Jax interrupted in his gravel-rough voice. “I didn’t end up playing ‘Embers of Ashes’ or I was gonna call you on stage to join us.”

  She stared at Jax, wishing he wasn’t such a nice, decent guy. “That’s okay.”

  “You’re really good,” Jax said, sincerely. Why couldn’t he be a dick like that guy from Split Shade?

  Wow, the beginning of the tour felt like a million years ago. “Thanks,” Sawyer said. “I really like your music.” That was true. Regardless of how she felt about sharing—no, not sharing, stop thinking that!—Vix with Racer’s charismatic lead singer, she did like their music. She didn’t think she could listen to it ever again, that was all.

  “So you go to Juilliard?” Mary asked, and Sawyer gratefully turned her attention away from Jax and Vix.

  She thought she could feel Vix’s eyes on her when she answered. “Yeah. It’ll be my senior year in the fall.”

  “I watch this show called The Fosters,” Mary told her. “One of the kids got into Juilliard. I was curious so I looked it up and, damn. That seems like it’s hard to do. They only take, like, what, seven percent of applicants?”

  She hated talking about this, but it was a distraction, so she got over it. “It’s a long process, and very few people get past the first few steps.”

  “Sawyer got a scholarship,” Vix added. “Which is, like, harder to do than getting in.” She sounded proud.

  Sawyer gritted her teeth and tried not to scowl. Why was Vix making this so hard for her? Why wasn’t she going off with Jax and getting this over with? “I did, yeah.”

  “That’s awesome,” Mary enthused. “Did your classmates freak out when you told them you were going on tour with a rock band all summer?”

  She doesn’t know that talking about school makes you want to shotgun this beer and give pot a second chance. “I—I didn’t really tell them. Most of them, um, were playing in ensembles and stuff. Chamber orchestras, symphonies.”

  “Is that what you’re going to do when you go back?”

  Mary spent her time around professional musicians. It only made sense she’d ask these questions, and she did seem genuinely interested. Sawyer forced her shoulders to relax and nodded, taking a sip of her beer as she told herself firmly to get it together. “I think so. I’ll start auditions and things when I get back.”

  “Will you want to stay in—is it New York?”

  “Yeah. I’m not sure I want to stay there, though.” Sawyer took another drink of her beer, a longer one. “I should go wherever someone wants to give me a spot, but you know. Still, uh, thinking about my options.”

  “How are you liking tour life?” Mary asked, and Sawyer relaxed at the conversation topic switch.

  A few times she could tell Vix was trying to engage with her, but Sawyer kept her responses distant and tried not to look at Vix too much. When M
ary excused herself to go to the bathroom and, as she put it, “Round up the troops” for the trip back to the hotel, Sawyer realized she was alone with Jax and Vix.

  Jax leaned back on the couch, his arms spread along the back. Vix was sitting next to him but perched on the edge, body turned toward Sawyer. They weren’t touching, and Sawyer wanted to scream for some reason she didn’t understand.

  “So,” Jax started, “are you—”

  “Be right back,” Sawyer blurted, and practically ran out of the room. She didn’t know what he was going to ask, but she was done with pretending. She knew she couldn’t stop Vix from doing whatever she wanted, but she wished she could. There. Fine, she admitted it.

  She stood in the hallway that led to the loading dock, pressing her hands to her face and trying to tell herself to calm down.

  “I’m gonna go with Jax on a beer run before we head back to the hotel,” Vix said, appearing in the hallway with Jax in tow. Sawyer quickly dropped her hands before Vix spoke again. “Everyone else will ride with you guys, so, see you there?”

  Sawyer nodded, then slipped out the door. A few feet away from the van, she felt a hand on her arm and stopped her single-minded march toward the vehicle.

  “Hey.” It was Jeff. “You okay?”

  No, everything is terrible. “Sure, why?”

  “You ran out before you could tell Vix if you had an order for food or beer.” Jeff had a strange look on his face. “You know . . . they’re not serious, Jax and Vix.”

  Oh, for fuck’s sake. “Not serious about getting food and beer? Good thing I didn’t stick around to give them my order, then.”

  Jeff snorted. “Nice try. But you seem upset or something, and I can’t help thinking it’s because of those two.”

  “It isn’t,” Sawyer lied. “I’m tired, that’s all. It’s been a long day. And, once again, I smell like weed.”

  Luckily, everyone else caught up before Jeff could say anything else. Since she hadn’t been drinking, he handed her the keys, and for only the second time since the tour started, she drove the van. That kept her nice and distracted, and when Jeff said, “Vix texted to get your drink order and what you wanted from Taco Bell,” she told him that she wanted two tacos and a bottle of water, and concentrated on getting them to the hotel.

  She’d planned on going to her room when they got there, but she absolutely did not want Jeff thinking she was hiding—even if that was exactly what she wanted to do. Besides, she was hungry and those tacos sounded good. She dropped her stuff in the room she’d be sharing with Vix—or not sharing—and went to the guys’ room. No one was smoking in there, thankfully, but the room was small and crowded as the rest of the Racer contingent showed up.

  Vix came right over to her with a bag and a bottle of water. “You are living the party life,” she joked, handing over the items.

  Sawyer took them and unwrapped one of the tacos. It was sans tomatoes, which Vix had remembered even though Sawyer had forgotten to mention. She took a vicious bite, annoyed at the thoughtfulness.

  “Are you okay?” Vix asked her.

  “I’m fine,” Sawyer assured her. She held up the taco. “Hungry.”

  “Uh-huh,” said Vix. “What— Hey!” She laughed, looking up as Jax appeared behind her, wrapping his arms around her from behind and lifting her off the floor. “Put me down or I’ll kick you in the nuts, asshole.”

  “Wow, you’re charming.” Jax did as instructed, an arm still around Vix’s shoulders. “And hey, don’t damage the goods. You never know when you might need them.” He gave her a playful leer.

  Vix rolled her eyes, but she didn’t push him away. The taco tasted like dust in Sawyer’s mouth. She forced herself to swallow it and said, “I think I’m going to turn in. Have a good evening!”

  With that, she pushed her way toward the door, determined that nothing was going to stop her from making her escape.

  Vix watched Sawyer all but run for the door, frowning and wondering if she should go after her. Sawyer had been acting weird all day. Friendly enough, but clearly avoiding Vix.

  “I don’t think she likes me,” Jax said, pouting a bit. “Why is that? Did you tell her I’m an asshole or something?”

  “No, but I mean, she can listen to your songs.” It was a weak retort, and she knew it. Most of Racer’s songs were about Jax’s inability to have a lasting relationship when he was trying to have a career in this industry. She sipped her vodka, mixed with hotel ice and cheap cranberry juice in a plastic cup, and wondered if she should let it go. She wasn’t Sawyer’s babysitter, and maybe she was tired. There was no rule she had to party after the show.

  Jax leaned in and said in her ear, “I’m gonna go smoke. I’ll be out by the van.”

  Vix patted him on the arm and handed him her vodka and cranberry juice. “Remember what I said today? I have other plans.”

  “Your other plans don’t seem too happy with you.” Jax held his hands up at Vix’s glare. “And I meant if you needed to talk. That’s all.”

  She knew Jax well enough to know the offer was serious. He might have problems keeping a relationship together, but he was a good guy.

  Sighing, she made her way to the door. Jeff stepped neatly in front of her. “Think about what you’re doing before you do it, Vix.”

  “Leaving?”

  Jeff narrowed his eyes at her. When she’d met him, he’d had dyed-black hair and an eyebrow ring. He still had the eyebrow ring, but the hair was his normal brown and he had a touch of a receding hairline. None of them were getting any younger. He gestured at her with his beer can. “You know what. She’s leaving at the end of the summer, remember?”

  “Yes, God, I know. But she’s upset, she’s my friend, and . . . would you get out of my way?” Vix was heartily tired of explaining that yes, she knew Sawyer wasn’t sticking around.

  Jeff sighed. “Fine. But you’re making this really complicated, and you know how badly this can end, Vix. You know it.”

  “Didn’t ask for your opinion, Jeff,” Vix snapped. She knew he was trying to help, but she wasn’t in the mood for his sudden paternalism.

  She had to knock a few times before the door opened, since she didn’t have a key card. Sawyer opened the door, barefoot and wearing the dress she’d performed in. “Oh. Hi.”

  “I don’t have a room key,” said Vix, feeling stupid.

  “Right.” Sawyer walked over to the table with the television and picked up the little card, bringing it over. “Here.”

  Vix pocketed it, then came in and closed the door behind her. “Are you sure everything is okay?”

  “Jesus, why is everyone asking me that?” Sawyer snapped, eyes narrowing. She had her hands on her hips, chin tilted. Her face was flushed, and Vix knew it wasn’t from drinking.

  “Because you’re acting weird?”

  “Why, because I came back to the room? I wasn’t in the mood to hang out, is that, like, a crime?”

  Vix rarely heard Sawyer sound so defensive. “No, it isn’t.”

  “Great. So, go enjoy yourself with Jax and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Vix blinked. “What makes you think—”

  “Victoria, don’t,” said Sawyer, her mouth set. “I know you guys hook up, okay? I can handle it. Yes, it’s a little weird. Is that what you want to hear? It’s weird, but believe me, I know I have no right to say that, and I’m trying to do the right thing here and give you your space.”

  “My space?” Vix felt like she was two minutes into a conversation she didn’t remember starting. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “Jax. You want to sleep with him, right? Go for it. I’m trying to get out of your way. No one is letting me,” she said peevishly. “And don’t bother lying, I heard you guys talking on the stage.”

  Wait, what? Vix looked at her until she realized what Sawyer was talking about: the conversation she’d had with Jax before the show. “Did you hear me say I was going to sleep with him? Because I sure as fuck don’t remember
saying that, Sawyer.”

  “Why wouldn’t you? You’ve done it before.” Before Vix could say anything, Sawyer continued. “I know this is only a summer fling for us, Vix. So . . . go have fun. Go do what you do. It’s good for me to remember this isn’t really my life.”

  Tension made Vix’s stomach knot unpleasantly. “You’re making a lot of assumptions right now. Just because I’ve fucked Jax before doesn’t mean I’m going to now.”

  “Even though he wants to?”

  Vix threw her hands up in the air. “What, like I can’t say no? Is that what you think of me?”

  “You’re allowed to fuck whoever you want.”

  “Yeah, thank you, I know that.” Vix stared hard at her. “Why are you so sure it was gonna be Jax? That’s why you were avoiding me.”

  “It’s the last time we’ll see them. You’ll see me the rest of the tour.” Sawyer wouldn’t look at her. “Why wouldn’t you?”

  “Is that honestly what you think? Why wouldn’t I? Without discussing it with you?”

  “You don’t owe me any explanations,” Sawyer whispered, glancing down at the floor.

  Vix was torn between wanting to explain herself and being angry. The alcohol and the late hour weren’t helping. “If you think that’s the kind of person I am, maybe you owe me some. For the record, just because Jax offered, doesn’t mean I’d say yes without . . . Jesus, without talking to you about it, first.”

  “Because he thinks a threesome would be hot?”

  “What is happening right now?” Vix demanded. She couldn’t understand why Sawyer was mad at her, because it also seemed like Sawyer wanted her to go sleep with Jax. “Are you mad because Jax wanted to sleep with me, or because I didn’t tell you that he offered? I was going to, but you’ve been ignoring me all day.”

  “So you were going to talk to me about it. Why, to ask if I wouldn’t mind? If I wanted to join in?” Sawyer’s expression was mulish, and her arms crossed over her chest. “I don’t mind, and I don’t want to join in. There you go. Conversation had, now go have fun.”

  “Sawyer,” Vix said, slowly, taking a step closer. “You realize the person in this room who wants me to fuck Jax isn’t me, right? You’re insisting I do something without bothering to find out if I want to.” A suspicion dawned. “You either think I’m incapable of turning down sex, or you think I’m incapable of turning down dick.”