The older—and bigger—I got, the more attention Dad paid. But by the time I was fifteen it felt different than it had at ten. I didn’t view it as an honor anymore, I didn’t feel like I was special. In fact, it felt like pretty much the opposite.
The constant haranguing, the daily battles over my “lack of commitment” and my “training needs,” became the bane of my teenage existence. It was never enough—I was never enough. Not fast enough, not tough enough, not good enough. The rest of the world told me I was gifted, a football talent that hadn’t been seen in Pennsylvania high school athletics in twenty years, but not my old man. To him I was always ten push-ups too few, thirty seconds too slow, one touchdown short.
There’s nothing like being told you’re not good enough. But I know that this Super Bowl gig is it. The chance I’ve been searching for all these years to finally prove him wrong. The hunt for that perfect opportunity has kept me going a long time, and I can almost taste the triumph now.
I hear a small intake of breath from behind me and turn just in time to see Tully frozen, mid-step between the doors into the hotel and my chair.
“Hey short stack,” I say quietly. For some reason I know that if I do anything too suddenly she’ll bolt, like a deer in the forest.
“Sorry. I didn’t know anyone was out here.”
“No problem. It’s a big pool, there are lots of chairs, why don’t you have a seat, or a swim. Whatever you came out for.”
She watches me for a moment, indecision rippling across her features. I notice now that she’s wearing a short sundress and high wedge-heeled sandals. She looks like she’s been out somewhere, and I get a rush of jealousy, wondering if she was out with someone in particular. Or if she met anyone tonight. I shouldn’t be thinking shit like that about her of all people, but I can’t seem to control it.
“Okay,” she concedes. “But I’m not out here with you. I’m just doing my own thing.”
I give her a wry smile. “I never even saw you here,” I answer.
She chooses a lounge chair a few away from mine, and sits down with a sigh, sliding off her shoes before stretching her legs out in front of her.
“You go out tonight?” I ask.
She leans her head back and closes her eyes. “I thought you didn’t see me here.”
I chuckle. My voice is low and rough when I answer her. “Short stack, I might not admit to seeing you, but it’s damn well impossible for me not to notice you. In case you haven’t caught on, I think you’re pretty fucking hot.”
She swivels her head my direction and opens one eye briefly before turning away again. “Given what I’ve heard about you I’m not sure that’s much of a compliment.”
I try not to be offended, but I am. Yeah, I’ve done my share of one-night stands, and when I was using life was a blur of powder, women, and music. But I’m far from one of the worst in the business. Hell, her good buddy Mike put me to shame before he settled down with his blonde country princess, Jenny.
“I can’t help it that I’m a popular guy, but if you’d been paying any attention at all, you’d know that while I haven’t turned down offers that were thrown at me, I also don’t usually go out of my way to seduce anyone. Being a woman I’d pursue puts you in an elite club.”
Her laughter rings out in the dark night air. “An elite club? Really? Is that the best you can come up with?”
I have to laugh too. It was pretty bad. “Look, all I’m saying is, yes, I’ve been around the block a few times. Name one dude with this job who hasn’t been. But sleeping with a groupie and telling a colleague you think she’s hot and you’d like to get to know her are two very different things.”
There’s silence then. Crickets. And I wonder what I’ve done wrong. Well, aside from the whole elite club thing.
“You’d like to get to know me?” she asks in a smaller voice.
“Yeah.” My heart beats faster and I take a second to catch my breath. She’s sitting eight feet away from me, it’s so dark I can’t see her expression, and she never looks over at me once, but this feels more real than most of the sex I’ve had in my life. The tension in the air is palpable. A buzzing of energy—sexual, emotional—that runs through me like a current.
“Why?”
I breathe deeply, willing my body to calm down. “Well, aside from the fact that you’re hot as fuck—”
“I think we’ve covered that,” she inserts.
“Hey, it’s important, don’t let anyone tell you it isn’t.”
She laughs.
“You’re a damn good musician.”
“You’ve heard me play?”
“I might have been around for your rehearsals earlier. I also know that no matter what jackasses your bandmates are, they would never hire you if you weren’t pretty damn special.”
I pause. “But it’s more than all that obvious stuff, short stack.”
My throat feels thick now. I feel thick, awkward. “It’s like I’m connected to some part of you—because of the stuff with your family. Like maybe we understand each other in a way a lot of other people might not. I guess it makes me curious. I want to know what makes you tick, how you’ve gotten this far when you haven’t had much support. Where that magic music inside of you comes from. You’re an enticing package. Can’t blame a guy for being interested.”
She finally turns to me, rolling onto her side and curling her knees in toward her chest, hands under her head like a sleeping angel. I wish like hell she wasn’t so far away. Those eight feet seem like a universe when I want to be able to feel her breath on my face, her heat on my skin. I want to be able to look into her eyes and see what’s in her soul. I want to possess this woman in a way I’ve never wanted to possess another human being before. Body and soul, heart and mind.
“Do you know how hard I’ve worked to get where I am?” she asks gently.
“Very hard, I’m sure.”
“I love music. More than I’ve ever loved anything except my sister and her son. I’ve wanted this chance for so long, it still doesn’t seem real to me.”
I nod, watching her form shift as she stretches out one beautiful, smooth leg.
“Prejudice is a terrible thing, and I don’t ever want to be that person, but the guys in my band say you’re a terrible thing too. They say that I need to stay away from you.”
“Aw fuck, short stack. I know that. But I…” I what? I’m not sure what my next words should be, or even what I want them to be. I only know that I’m drawn to this woman, and no matter what forces are opposing it, I want her.
“I need to get along with them—I want to get along with them.”
I sigh and turn my eyes to the sky, frustration rolling around in my gut.
“Okay. I get it. I’ll leave you alone.” I take a deep breath, and my voice is softer now, almost a whisper. “But I know I’ll regret it.”
I hear her shift again, the chair giving a small squeak as she moves. The next thing I know her hand is on my cheek and her breath is in my ear.
“I will too.” Her lips whisper across mine and then she’s gone.
Tully
Rehearsals the next afternoon go even smoother. And it’s a good thing because I’m so distracted by the conversation I had with Blaze the night before I can barely remember my own name, much less our set list. For whatever reason the guys don’t seem to notice though and when our two hours are up everyone seems satisfied that we’re ready to go on for the performance. After we get back to the hotel I head straight to my room and call Savvy. Times like these a girl needs her sister.
“Hey there. You’d better be calling to tell me that you’ve gotten into a hot rock star’s pants,” she says the minute the call connects.
I flop back on the bed, then put the phone on speaker and lay it on the nightstand.
“Actually…”
“Aaaah! Which one? Wait, they’re all married, right? Oh God, tell me you didn’t go there, Tully.”
I roll my eyes. Savvy is always such a
drama queen. “Of course not! You know I would never do that. I’m on a tour with six bands. I have plenty of unmarried options. And even if they were single, I wouldn’t be hooking up with members of my own band. That’s the surest way to end a good thing before it even starts.”
Savvy exhales loudly. “Oh good. And oooh good! Six whole bands of hot rock stars. Tell me more.” I hear my nephew babbling in the background and I can picture Savvy as she flits around her house, shoving snacks at the kid, picking up the four thousand dirty socks that are laying all over the place because the dog carries them around. I can’t help but smile and feel a little homesick.
“You know Rhapsody, right?”
“Who doesn’t? Especially Garrett Jakes. Please tell me it’s not Garrett. I mean, I want the best for you, but I’m not sure I can handle thinking about my sister with the one and only guy on my free pass list.”
I laugh. My sister and her husband have these free pass lists. Celebrities they’re allowed to screw if they ever get the chance, because of course they won’t. Apparently Rhapsody’s lead singer is on my sister’s list. I wonder if my brother-in-law knows that she could actually meet Garrett at some point since I’m touring with them? And, well, if what I’ve heard about Garrett is true, he would probably do Savvy in a hot second.
“No, it isn’t Garrett. And you know he’s a manwhore, right?”
“Yeah, yeah,” she answers dismissively. “I’m not looking for love, baby, just a hot bod and a steamy night.”
Gag.
“Moving right along. I’ve managed to attract the attentions of Rhapsody’s other bad boy—Blaze Davis.”
There’s a pause, then Savannah’s voice comes back, but this time instead of sounding hyper and horny she sounds concerned. Hell.
“Um, wow. Blaze, huh? He was in rehab recently, wasn’t he?”
I toy with one of my curls, remembering for a moment how he looked at me last night. “Yeah, he was,” I answer. “And he’s angry, and troubled, and he can be really sweet too. But here’s the worst part, he’s mortal enemies with Lush.”
I shift around on the bed, lying on my side, head propped on my hand. I close my eyes because it makes me feel closer to Savvy. I miss her. She’s the only family I have who really cares about my life and what I’m doing. Sometimes when I’m away from her for too long I feel a little untethered. It helps a lot to hear her voice, but I’ll be so glad when we get back to Portland for the performance there.
“Here,” she says to my nephew. “You can watch some of your show while I talk to Auntie Tully.”
“It’s okay if you need to go,” I tell her, realizing that it’s bedtime at her house and I’m being really selfish keeping her from Ty when he needs to sleep.
“No, no. Kevin isn’t home tonight, so I just gave Ty a bowl of mac and cheese. He can watch TV for a bit. If it didn’t kill us it won’t kill him.”
I laugh quietly.
“I’m sure he’s got lots of good qualities, Tully,” she continues, “but you don’t want to get involved with a guy who’s got all those problems. You know what substance abuse looks like—up close and personal. You don’t need more of that in your life. Plus, you’ve worked so hard to get to where you are. It would be horrible if you lost your place in the band just because you messed around with the wrong guy.”
My throat tightens a little, but I know she’s absolutely right. He's too much of a risk. Like his name, he’s a fire burning through everything he touches, including me, but what follows the flame is ashes and I know that he could burn through my career and my heart if I'm not careful. Between the drugs, the bad reputation, and the argument with my band, there's no way that Blaze and I can ever be.
I'm about to tell Savvy how right she is when a pounding on my door interrupts. “I’ll be back in just a minute. Someone’s at the door,” I tell her as I get up from the bed. She continues to talk and I don't know if she's talking to me or to Ty but I leave the phone on the nightstand and go to the living room.
When I open the door, standing in the hallway is my older brother, James. Why he’s here I don’t know, because I said I’d leave the tickets for him at will-call. “What are you doing here?”
“Nice to see you too,” he snarls before shoving past me and coming into the room. He’s obviously been drinking and I say a quick prayer that he didn’t drive a car from the airport.
“James, seriously, I left the tickets for you at will-call. What are you doing in my hotel suite?”
He tosses his bag on the sofa and walks around the room checking it all out before throwing himself down in the armchair and picking up the remote control to the TV.
“What do you mean what am I doing here? I have to have a place to stay while I’m in town.”
I cross my arms, glaring at him. “You’re joking.”
He chuckles. “You didn’t seriously expect me to pay for my own hotel room when you have this sweet set up did you?”
“This is paid for by my work,” I tell him. “It isn't here for your convenience and you don't just get to tell me that you're going to stay here when I didn’t agree to it.”
He snorts and shakes his head as he turns on the TV, ignoring me. This is how it always is with my brothers. It's like I have no rights, no opinion, no purpose. They walk all over me and no matter how loud I scream or how hard I fight they just ignore me. I think that's why I like the guys in my band, they get mad at me sometimes but they never ignore me. I know I matter enough to get a response from them even if sometimes it's anger or irritation.
“Get out, James. I'm serious,” I tell him as he raises his left hand casually and flips me off.
As my temperature goes from simmering to a violent boil, I hear a strange sound coming from the bedroom. Shit. Savvy.
I run to the nightstand and grab up the phone. “Savvy?”
“Are you okay?” she shrieks.
“Yes, of course.”
“The last thing you said was there was someone at the door, then you disappeared. Jesus, Mary and Joseph. I was about to call the San Diego cops and have them go to your room.”
“I’m sorry.” I pause, listening to the MMA match my brother’s turned on in the other room. “I might ask you to do it anyway. It was James at the door.”
“What the hell is he doing there?” she asks. At least I know the whole family wasn’t in on his little arrangement.
“I got him tickets to the show tomorrow night. Well, Mom made me give him tickets. The only problem is he assumed that meant he could stay in my hotel suite.”
I can almost hear Savvy’s eyes rolling. “He’s such a mooch,” she tells me. “Put him on the phone, I’ll tell him he has to go.”
“Good luck with that,” I answer as I walk to the living room. “He’s had a few already. Here,” I tell him, “Savvy wants to talk to you.”
He holds out his hand without looking at me and I slap the phone into it.
“Hey, Savvy,” he grunts. He’s relatively quiet as she talks to him, interjecting the occasional, “like I give a shit” or “give me a break.” But when he disconnects he hoists himself unsteadily out of the chair and flicks off the TV.
“You win, you big baby,” he tells me as he walks by and musses up my hair. “I’m going to grab another room. But I need a backstage pass. Jeanette will be here tomorrow and she wants to meet that Garrett dude who sings for Rhapsody.”
My stomach churns. Blackmail. It’s so typical of him. He could never do something because it’s the right thing or because I asked him to. But, I’ll do just about anything to get him out of my space right now. I won’t survive another twenty-four hours of him in my room.
“Fine. They’ll be at will-call with the tickets.” I walk over and open the door to the hallway with a flourish.
He shuffles over, picks up his duffle bag from the floor where he dumped it when he came in, and sways out. “Thanks, sis,” he says as he heads toward the elevators chuckling. Asshole.
Once he’s gone I te
xt Savvy.
Tully: He’s gone. What’d you say to him?
Savvy: Told him u’d b 2 nervous with him there. U might screw up the performance. He didn’t want you 2 embarrass him.
Tully: Figures. As long as it’s about him.
Savvy: Exactly.
Tully: Thanks for the save tho. Have a good night.
Savvy: U 2. Miss U.
Tully: Same.
Thirty minutes later I hear someone shouting my name from outside. I open the doors to the balcony and walk out, looking down toward the pool.
James is below my room, a huge plate of steak and lobster in one hand, and an entire bottle of scotch in the other.
“Hey, Tully!” he slurs, grin on his face. “Just wanted to say thanks for dinner. That tab you’ve got going for your room is real convenient.”
He didn’t.
“James…” My eyes narrow at him.
He laughs uproariously, almost dumping his steak on the pool deck. “Admit it, you were dying to buy me a hundred and twenty-dollar dinner.”
My eyes burn. It’s not that I can’t afford the hundred and twenty dollars. I’m in Lush now, that means a percentage of the revenues from this tour, and I’ll be getting royalties off of their next album. The fact is, as long as I don’t blow it, I’ll be a very rich woman in not so long. But the fact that he charged it without asking, that he’s never once bought me a damn thing, and that he did it for the sole purpose of getting under my skin turns me into a trembling mound of rage.
“Fuck you, James,” I hiss before I look around the balcony. There’s a candle sitting on the little end table, and before I can stop myself I’ve picked it up and thrown it as hard as I can. James dodges it and it shatters on the concrete beside him.
“Better watch your language little girl,” he admonishes. “Wouldn’t want all your many fans to think you’ve got a mouth as trashy as that tattoo on your ass.”
“Now that is no way to talk to a lady,” a deep voice says from somewhere down below me. I look over the banister just as Blaze comes walking out of the building and reaches James.
A Lush Rhapsody: A Rhapsody Novel Page 6