by Emily Snow
“That’s my Liza.” He kissed my cheek and then pulled me in for a hug. I hugged him back quickly before pulling away to get to the dishes again. “Tomorrow we’ll go shopping.”
“Cool.”
The doorbell rang a few seconds later and Ben grinned as he braced himself, wiping his hands on his peachy button-up shirt. “Oh, great. The boys are here.”
My eyebrows knitted as I stared out of the kitchen. “The boys?”
“Yes. FireNine. They’re practicing in the garage tonight since their producer’s out of town. They have a new song, and I’ve been dying to hear it. Perks of being the manager, huh?”
I swallowed. “Um… yeah. Sure.”
Winking, my dad trailed out the kitchen, but I pulled my hands from the dishwater, dried them off with a dishtowel, and then dashed for my bedroom in a heartbeat, shutting my door behind me. I hated when they made random appearances, especially when I looked like complete trash.
As I stepped forward, I kneeled down on my knees and pulled out one of my sketchpads from beneath the bed. I then grabbed a pencil and sat at the desk in the corner of my room. Deep voices echoed through the hall, and I tried to concentrate, but it was extremely difficult. The hardest part about it was hearing Gage Grendel’s deep, bedroom-like voice. It was humming through me, almost luring me in his direction. At one point, I had to fight myself to not get up and steal a peek at him. His voice was completely irresistible.
“I’ll be in there once I find the bathroom,” Gage called. His footsteps sounded heavier than normal and my pencil stopped sketching as he got closer and closer to my bedroom. The bathroom was a door down from mine and knowing how one could confuse the two doors scared the shit out of me. I knew it was coming. I knew he was coming.
My doorknob jiggled and, slowly, the door creaked open. I tensed, but I kept my gaze down and focused on my sketchpad. “Oh, damn. Wrong room.”
I glanced over my shoulder, bracing myself before taking in the full sight of him. His attire was nowhere near preppy or perfect. His casual demeanor suited him. He had on black Chuck Taylor’s, a black tank top that clung to his firm upper body, and a pair of near-skinny, dark-blue jeans. His hazel eyes were smiling, specks of green and yellow sparkling within. I could make out the hints of colors in his irises from a mile away. His silky, dark-brown hair had been trimmed to a messier look, curly in a few untamed places, and defined him even more. A sleeve of unique tattoos smothered both his arms—some were tribal ink, a few names, and even some Bible verses were written in cursive. There was even the band’s name right below his neck.
“You look familiar,” Gage said, snapping me out of my admiration.
“Probably because we went to school together,” I said. Oh shit, there goes my sarcastic side. I was glad he disregarded it.
“That so?” He raised a suave eyebrow and I nodded.
“Yeah. You graduated three years before I did.”
“Oh. Explains why I can’t remember you… but you do ring a bell. What’s your name?”
“Eliza Smith,” I said, as if it were going to actually ring his bell.
Surprisingly, it did.
“Holy sh—no way! You’re Benny’s daughter?”
“Yes,” I said defensively. I wasn’t sure if he meant it insultingly. “Obviously, if I’m in a bedroom of his home…”
“That’s pretty awesome. You’re hotter than I expected you to be.” His tone was absurdly nonchalant. “Benny talks about you nonstop. Why don’t I ever see you around?”
“We’re opposites I guess.” I shrugged. I turned around slowly and began sketching again, but I could still feel Gage scanning me from across the room and I was starting to wonder why the hell he wasn’t leaving. “The bathroom is the next door down, in case you’re wondering,” I said without looking back. I couldn’t look back. If I did, I would have dragged him into my room and locked him in with me.
“Cool,” he said. “Thanks, Eliza… Actually, I think I’ll call you Ellie. Just came up with it. Sounds better. Fits you.”
“But that’s not my na—”
The door shut quickly and I was glad because hearing Gage say my name like that nearly caused me to melt inside, and him leaving saved me from embarrassing myself. Ellie? I’d never been called that before.
It was hypnotic. Gage saying my name and even giving me a nickname was like vanilla ice cream, and the addition of his deep, bedroom-like voice was the drizzle of warm fudge that completed it and made me totally devour it. He’d created a freaking ice cream sundae with extra-hot fudge just by uttering my name.
Gage was beyond the word hot. He was sexy but extremely deadly toward any girl’s emotions. He could break a girl’s heart in two and not care about it. It was always that way in high school. He’d hook up with a girl one day; the next she’d come into class with smeared mascara. That was one thing that agitated me about guys in rock bands. It seemed as if they were all the same—all aiming to have sex and then forget about it the next day.
I didn’t want to be a witness to him or any of the other guys bringing countless girls on and off their bus, but a part of me wanted to finally get out. Ben was right about living it up. I wanted to do it for myself, even if it were something new to me. It was time for me to challenge myself. Time for me to open up.
Ben gave me a makeover and I guess Gage noticed. Even though I was the only breathing organism in the room, he actually looked at me as if I were a person. In school, when he was around, I always wore my hair in a ponytail. I never wore makeup (unless someone would consider lip balm makeup), and I wore nothing but T-shirts and jeans every day and maybe a hoodie when it was cold, but when I moved in with Ben, he stopped me from wearing my—as he put it—“ugly boy clothes.” He made sure I dressed to impress. He never allowed me to wear a T-shirt with jeans again unless I was staying inside the house. Too bad I started looking nicer after Gage graduated. Maybe he would’ve noticed me in school.
I moved in with Ben during the second semester of my junior year, when I was seventeen. I was recognized by others for my looks and the drastic Ben-makeover and it was an odd feeling, so I always rejected the guys who came along. It never felt right to date anyone when things were just starting to make a little sense in my crazy life.
High school just seemed too young to start anything official and so was college—not that I wasn’t looking. I just wanted something playful. Nothing serious. I didn’t have much time for anything serious. I guess that was another reason I wanted to actually go with Ben. Because I wanted to possibly meet someone on the road who had the same interests as me. Someone who loved to absorb the feel of creativity and just breathe it. Someone who could be just as free and down to earth as me. Someone who didn’t care about anyone’s opinion but his own. Someone who knew how to have fun while also keeping his feelings to himself.
I was expecting too much, but if I were to have any kind of fun with someone, he had to be worth it.
GRENDEL THE FLIRT
The tour bus Ben told me to board was nice. It was larger on the inside than I thought and as I stepped in completely, there was a grand living room setting and a kitchen to my left. The living room was comprised of black suede couches directly across from each other, a coffee table in between the sofas, and a wide flat-screen TV set up on the north wall.
Gripping the handles of my suitcase and bag, I made my way down the hall and kicked open one of the doors with the tip of my running shoe. A mattress lay on the floor and a window was above it. Looking at it made me shake my head and move along to see what the next room had in store.
To my luck, the next room was perfect.
A queen-sized bed was against the wall, one square window above it. The walls were painted a gentle shade of lavender and the floor was covered with smooth, tan carpet.
I dropped my bags, gazing around with a smile. It would do for the tour. Ben told me a few days before that the tour was going to last two months, but he was going to make sure I was back in Virgin
ia for school. I couldn’t afford to miss out, especially when I had an academic scholarship I worked tremendously hard for. I wanted to get a bachelor’s degree in art and then explore the world. I wanted to start a life of my own and chase my dreams.
Graduating from the University of Virginia had always been a goal of mine. After being told I would never make it anywhere in life by my so-called “mom,” I wanted to graduate and prove her wrong. I figured being on a tour bus was the perfect way to start my dreams. If I had experience with traveling, taking pictures, and painting what I came across, it would make it so much easier for me to create a creative portfolio.
A few heavy grunts came from the front of the bus. Figuring it was Ben, I stepped out to check but was caught by surprise at the sight of Gage with at least four suitcases—one in each hand and one beneath the pit of each arm. “Do you need help?” I asked as he kicked the screen door to keep it open, dragging another case inside.
He looked up at me, his hazel eyes narrowing and trying to figure out who the voice had come from. “Oh, Ellie.” He grinned. “It’d be nice if I could get your help.”
I stepped forward, grabbed the two suitcases out of his hands, and placed them near the sofas. Gage stepped around me and dropped the bags with a heavy sigh. “Sorry. My dad packs more stuff than he needs.” I laughed
He chuckled. “I can see that.” He took in the interior of the bus and his eyes widened. “Wow, never been on this bus before. Ben has it good—way better than us.”
“Yeah.” I forced a smile before looking down, realizing how close we were. His firm arm was brushing against mine, so I took a step away. He looked at me, his gaze a bit confused, and then rocked on his heels.
“So since you’re on this tour, it means I’m gonna be seeing more of you,” he said.
I twisted my fingers in front of me, forcing a smile. I think it came off as uneasy. “I suppose.”
His head tilted and a small smile graced his lips. “You don’t seem too happy about it. I bet it’s every girl’s dream to be next to the lead singer of FireNine.”
He nudged me gently on the ribcage with his elbow and I laughed dryly, taking another step away from him. “I forgot how arrogant you are. I’m not every girl. I’m Eliza. I like your music… but that’s probably about it.”
Gage’s features fell as he stared at me. Before he could make it too noticeable, he blinked quickly and flashed a smile, as if what I said meant nothing to him. “We’ll see about that, Ellie. Maybe I can get you to like more about me than just my music.”
“Yeah, okay,” I scoffed. I was surprised I was so confident while talking to him. It felt good to pretend I didn’t have the biggest crush on him. I didn’t want him to know, with one simple touch, he could probably make me weak in the knees. Gage seemed to have that kind of power over girls. He was the lead singer of a popular band, for heaven’s sake. He was probably right about him being every girl’s dream because sometimes he appeared in mine.
“Gage! We’re waiting on you!” someone shouted from the door. “Bring your ass on!”
“Yeah, let’s get this show on the road!” I heard Ben yell, clapping his hands. “Terri, I want you to make sure everyone and everything is on board before we leave. You have five minutes.”
After some quick yelling at a few others, Ben stepped onto the bus and looked directly at Gage. “Thanks for dropping my bags off. Things are always so hectic at the beginning of tours. New staff and they don’t know a damn thing.” He rolled his eyes, making his way toward his suitcases.
Gage nodded at Ben and then looked at me. As he stepped past, he winked, but I looked away and aimed to keep my heart at a steady pace. I failed terribly but was glad no one could hear the clambering through my chest because of all the commotion going on from outside. “See you later, Ellie,” Gage said, his voice a bit silkier than usual.
He took his last step off the bus and then hollered at someone, making my ears ring. I looked out of the thin window in front of me and watched as he bumped chests with Roy Sykes, the lead guitarist. Roy was way taller than the rest of the boys of the band and had shaggy hair that hung in his eyes. He had a lean stature and was covered in ink—way more ink than Gage.
Roy was hot and definitely something to look at as well, but from what I’d heard about him, he was soft spoken. He was comfortable with his band (by the way he was jumping and bumping fists with Gage, I could tell), but when it came to outsiders, he hardly said a thing. I don’t think anyone had ever caught an interview with Roy Sykes. He was the mystery man of FireNine.
Gage and Roy boarded their tour bus, which I noticed had FIRENINE printed in a fierce orange on top of the black chrome. Ben cleared his throat obnoxiously from behind me, snapping me out of my daze. I turned around and his arms were folded across his chest, his eyes glued on me.
“What?” I asked, my cheeks sparking.
“Ellie, huh? He’s given you a nickname… and you’re blushing? How adorable.”
I smirked and rolled my eyes. “I don’t know why he calls me that.”
He laughed. “You like it. Don’t act like you don’t.”
“It’s just a name, Ben. He’s a cool guy.”
“Yeah, whatever, sweetie. I’ve heard it all.” He walked for the stairs and laughed as he stepped off the bus again. He yelled at a few of the crewmembers and told them to get everything in order, and I sighed, going for my room of the bus.
I slumped on the edge of the bed and it sank beneath my weight. How the hell was I actually going to survive the tour without being around Gage so much? I didn’t know if I was going to be able to act like the careless chick—I mean, I didn’t care much, but for some reason I knew I would start soon.
Gage was my high school crush. I’d fantasized about him since day one of seeing him. I always wondered what it would be like to date him… but then he got famous and that thought vanished. I knew it was never going to happen. I was sure he had his girls lined up and his picks ready. I didn’t want to be one of those girls who did stupid things for a boy’s attention, so I decided for the entire tour to just play it cool.
I decided to act like Eliza Smith. It’s what I was best at anyway.
The next morning I woke up gasping and drenched in sweat. I shoved my blankets away, pushing myself up to lean my back against the headboard. The nightmare I had wasn’t pleasant. All I could remember was a large, filthy hand gripping my neck, pinning me against the wall, and… someone cackling. A clatter from the kitchen startled me and I stepped out of bed, pushing the nightmare aside. I had to get over it. I had to be strong.
As I entered the kitchen, Ben, wearing a sky-blue robe, was humming over the stove with a spatula in hand. His hair was most likely wet and ridiculously wavy from a shower. I then realized I was still sweating. Perhaps it wasn’t just my nightmare that left me that way.
“Good morning,” I sighed.
He turned around, facing me quickly. Laughing, he watched me run the back of my hand over my sticky forehead before scrambling his eggs again. “We’re in New Mexico, Liza,” he said, chuckling. “The air-conditioning unit isn’t running, but I’m having someone work on it as we speak.”
“It’s so hot.” I reached for a loose sheet of paper on the counter and fanned myself, glad he thought I was flushed over the heat instead of my night terror.
“Well, how about you take a cold shower and I’ll make you some eggs for breakfast? The boys have a show tonight, but we have to be there in two hours so they can practice and so the crew can make sure the setup is okay.”
I nodded, turning around. “I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”
After taking an extremely cool shower, blow-drying my hair, and then stuffing my face with cheesy eggs, Ben and I were stepping off the bus to make our way to a pearly white Lincoln Navigator parked at the curb.
“That’s what we’re riding in?” I asked, stunned. I couldn’t pull my eyes from the truck. It was sparkling all over and with the sun hovering above it,
providing the truck a personal twinkle, it was pretty much in the limelight.
“Yes, Liza! Gotta make ourselves look just as extravagant.” He winked over his shoulder, and I couldn’t help but stare. I’d never been on a tour with Ben before so I didn’t know what it was like to have a chauffeur or to even be taken to a show. I did know I was going to be backstage, up close and personal with the band.
Ben swung the door open and I climbed inside. He slid in after me, but a familiar voice called his name, causing my pulse to pick up. “Benny!” Gage yelled as Ben looked his way. Ben shut his door but rolled down his window with a heavy sigh.
“What is it, Gage?” Ben snapped impatiently. “We have to be there in thirty minutes and it’s a twenty-five minute drive.”
“Whoa now.” Gage held up his hands innocently, smirking. “We’ll get there in time. They have to wait for us regardless, right?”
Ben pressed his lips together, rolling his eyes at the statement.
“I just wanted to say good morning to you and your beautiful daughter Ellie.”
My eyes stretched, heat bombarding my stomach. Ben glanced over his shoulder at me and I forced a smile before looking away and placing my sunglasses on the bridge of my nose. “You can flirt later.” Ben rolled his eyes again. “Focus on the show tonight.”
“Oh, we’ve got this shit in the bag!” Gage yelled, taking quick steps backward as I looked in his direction. Gage’s attire was simple again. Chuck Taylor shoes, a white T-shirt with his band’s name on it, and his hair? Still untamed and all over the place yet dangerously sexy.
With another exaggerated sigh, Ben rolled up his window and told the driver to go before we ended up late. He then looked at me and I smiled innocently, shaking my head. “He’s… funny.”
“And a handful, yes,” Ben added.
I waited for Ben to strike up a conversation about Gage calling me beautiful, but he didn’t. Instead, he pulled out his phone and called someone, asking them how the stage setup was going. He was ready to get to the arena and was too focused on work to be thinking about it. I doubt he put as much thought into it as I did, anyway. I don’t know why, but I couldn’t really stop myself from obsessing over his flirtatious tone. In my head, I’d always considered Gage Grendel the stunning one. The hot-ass guy with the sexy-ass body. There was no doubt he had everything a girl needed… except sympathy of the heart.