“I’d like that.” Gripping the ends of her sweater, Caylee glanced over at me. “I’m sure there’ll be other rehearsals, too.”
“Exactly. Now don’t keep her hidden away, Coop. Your dad will want an introduction as well. I’ll send him out when he gets home.” Shooing us away, she retreated back into the house, leaving us alone again.
“She’s nice.”
“Yeah, she is. I’m really lucky with the parents I have. I couldn’t imagine life without them.” My voice caught on emotion, and I coughed it away. “Anyway, let’s go. They’ll be wondering what’s taking us so long.”
“Then lead the way, Mr. Rock Star.” Everything about Caylee was relaxed—I just wanted to breathe her in.
“Then follow me, Ms. Groupie,” I countered, resisting the urge to take her hand.
Just keep breathing, idiot.
Damn, I needed a drink.
Chapter Fourteen
Caylee
“Where the fuck have you been?” Marty demanded as he caught a glimpse of us entering. His question was aimed at Cooper, who shrugged it off and dismissed it. Me? It wasn’t exactly the way I was used to being greeted. He must’ve realized how abrasive it was because he immediately backpedaled, apologizing profusely.
“It’s okay,” I smiled, suddenly nervous. It’d been one thing to want to come and another to finally be here. All around the garage space was evidence of the band—a drum kit, amplifiers, microphone stands, and instruments. Someone had also hung posters on the wall in an effort to motivate and inspire. The cute one of a dog winking with the caption, “You can do it!” was my personal favorite.
Seeing where I was looking, Cooper added. “My mom thought it was a nice touch when we first set up out here, and no one had the heart to disagree.”
“Hey, don’t you be dissing Ralph,” Aidan interjected, putting down his drumsticks, a wide grin on his face. All it took was a few steps and he was pulling me into a bear hug. Since first meeting him, we’d become fast friends, and I had a soft spot for the guy that went beyond being envious of his beautiful ginger hair. Countless women paid big bucks to get that same color, spending hours at the salon.
“If you love the poster so much, maybe you should take it home,” Troy laughed, adjusting one of the knobs on his electric guitar as he tuned it. “I’m sure no one will complain.”
Cocking my head to the side, I studied the image. “I think it’s awesome. Who doesn’t enjoy a little positivity?”
“Exactly!” Aidan beamed. “Finally, someone else who feels the same way. These heathens”—he paused long enough to give a hard glare to the others—“don’t appreciate Ralph at all.”
Cooper had remained quiet this whole time, studying papers on a clipboard. “What’s our plan for tonight? We still working on the set for next weekend?” The band was always being asked to play at local bars and usually packed each venue with happy patrons. What I wanted most for them, however, was a chance to perform on a larger stage and to bigger crowds. They had so much potential . . . the kind of talent that catapulted people to stardom and made them viral successes around the world.
There was no way Damaged Souls was destined to remain practicing in a small garage in the back of someone’s property.
“As far as I know, we’ve only booked two gigs at Ruby’s. I was talking to someone about maybe traveling to some of the bigger cities nearby, but I need to follow up on those possibilities,” Marty replied. He was the unofficial manager, the one who negotiated on behalf of the band. From what Cooper had said, he did a pretty kick-ass job at it.
Troy strummed across his guitar strings, causing everyone to look his way. He was definitely the quieter of the four. “I still think we should look into going on the road this summer. Doesn’t have to be anything big, but it’ll get our name out there.”
“I know I’m new to all this,” I said, licking my lips nervously. “But I’m almost positive that all you guys are lacking is the exposure. You have a great sound, you’re all incredibly talented.” And hot, I wanted to add, but I kept it to myself. “People love you, and it’s pretty much a guaranteed full house when you perform. Seriously, have you thought about uploading a video to YouTube or something?”
Marty burst into laughter. “So we can be discovered like Bieber?”
“Baby, baby, baby . . . Oooooh.” Aidan crooned, placing his hand over his heart.
“Dude, I’m horrified you even know the words,” Cooper snorted, tossing the clipboard onto the chair and looking at his friend with disgust.
“Maybe that’s why he doesn’t take Ralph home,” I quickly countered. Sitting in the comfy sofa chair someone had pushed against the wall, I crossed my legs in the seat. “He doesn’t want to take down his Justin poster.”
Everything grew still like the quiet before the storm. Then everyone erupted! “BUUUURRRRNNNNN!” Troy chortled, slapping Aidan on the back.
Marty pointed to me. “I like this girl, Cooper. We’re keeping her.”
“There was a risk you weren’t?” I fired back, teasingly.
“I vote we reconsider after that rude remark.” Aidan’s face was a mask of seriousness and, for a moment, I genuinely thought I’d offended him. I was still learning about the guys and wasn’t always sure how they’d receive things. Even when I stared his way, his expression was one of solemn sincerity.
Crap. “Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry,” I began. The corners of his mouth twitched before I realized he was joking. “You had me believing I’d upset you, you jerk!” Looking around for something to throw, I settled for casting my sternest frown at him instead.
Still chuckling, he smirked. “Hey, you asked for it. Don’t mess with the Biebster.”
“Seriously?” My eyes widened. The last thing I expected today was a confession that this twenty-three-year-old had an obsession with the teen sensation.
“He’s kidding,” Cooper answered, shaking his head.
“Or am I?” He wasn’t letting it go so quickly.
Cooper pulled out his wallet, removed money, and then held it in the air. “I’ll give you twenty bucks if you can sit through the song without wanting to pierce your ears with an ice pick.”
“How about I just take it and spare us all the drama?” Marty swiped the cash and pocketed it. When Cooper growled, he shrugged. “We need it for supplies.”
“Such as?”
“Well, for starters, I hear my girl is designing us a killer logo for the band.” I was surprised to see he already knew about it considering we’d only just discussed the project at the library. “She called me. I didn’t realize a girl could squeal that much.”
“Then you’re obviously not pleasing her enough,” Troy chimed in, showing he was following along.
The comment earned him a “fuck you” and Marty flipped him off. “I satisfy her plenty.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to attest to the fact. We lived in a good-sized home, but that didn’t stop me from overhearing the nights Marty slept over. You knew it was loud when even earplugs didn’t cut it. Just the thought made me blush.
Cooper gripped his microphone stand, bringing it closer to him. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be here all night. Let’s get started so we can go home.”
With the bantering over and everyone refocused, it was all business as they began the opening chords to an original song. I loved that they covered other artist’s music, but without a doubt, I preferred the ones they’d written themselves. It was Cooper who mostly wrote their material, and he had a gift.
They just needed a way to show the world.
****
“So, you’re not bored?”
After an hour of nonstop singing and tweaking performances, Heather had appeared with a tray of drinks and food. I thought it was adorable that anywhere else, these guys were the picture of masculinity, but the second Cooper’s mother entered the garage, they were reduced to giddy little boys with snacks. The way to a man’s heart truly was via hi
s stomach, if the twinkle of happiness in Marty’s eyes was proof enough.
I’d even bet he was one of those guys who, when eating an orange, shoved it all in his mouth so he could flash an orange peel grin.
Dork.
“Nope, I’m having a lot of fun,” I replied, scooting over so Cooper could perch on the edge of the armrest. Whether on stage or here, he was definitely at home behind the mic. I couldn’t quite put my finger on whether it was because he could pretend to be someone else, forgetting his problems for a time, or that it was truly his calling in life, but I liked it.
I liked it a lot.
“I don’t think we’ll be much longer, either. Maybe . . .” Looking at his watch, Cooper squinted. “I don’t know . . . another thirty to forty-five minutes?” Draining the remaining water from his glass, he held it carefully in his hands.
“Don’t rush on my account. Seriously, I’m content to just sit here and listen. Lola’s been keeping me company.” His sweet dog had joined us earlier and had been sitting by my feet most of the time. Every now and then, she’d lift her head and stare at Cooper like she sensed something, but then she’d exhale with a cute doggy huff and settle back down.
“She’s the band’s mascot, aren’t you, girl?” I would never get tired of seeing the gentleness that transformed his features whenever he interacted with Lola. Sliding off the edge of the chair and onto the floor, he buried his face into her fur, his fingers brushing over her coat. There was a bond there, a deep one. “I’d take her to our gigs if I could.”
“I bet she’d love it.” I gushed, content to simply watch a man and his dog.
Cooper didn’t look up. “In the beginning, we did—at least when we went out of town. It made it . . . easier on me.”
“Easier?” I had a suspicion what he meant but didn’t want to assume. If he was willing to open up a little, I wasn’t going to stop him.
“Yeah, I was a mess when I first came home,” he replied softly. “I could barely stand leaving my house, and when I did, it was for short periods of time. Let me tell you . . . people don’t always understand when you suddenly start screaming and go into survival mode. It makes them uncomfortable. And frankly, I hated having to explain it.”
My chest tightened just thinking about it. “That’s horrible. I’m so sorry.”
“See. There . . . that’s why.” Cooper pointed at my face. “It doesn’t bother me as much now, but that look of pity—it used to piss me off. I don’t need someone feeling sorry for me.”
He might’ve said it didn’t bother him, but I could hear the truth in his voice. “I can only talk for myself, Cooper, but it makes my heart ache hearing your struggles, knowing you hurt. I know you don’t like hearing that.”
“I don’t, but I get it. There are some things you simply can’t find the right words for. You want to be able to show you care and acknowledge another person’s suffering, but what could you possibly say to make things right?” He finally glanced up and held my gaze. There was an earnest need to know. “Honestly.”
Once in a while, a question would be asked that I had no idea how to answer. This was one of them. “I don’t think there’s a clear-cut response to that. It’s complicated, but for me, it’s the need to say something . . . anything, because to say nothing feels like a slap in the face. How can I witness someone’s pain and walk away without at least trying to show I heard them?”
“Huh” was all he said as he continued to shower his affection on Lola. I took it as a good sign that he didn’t try to argue his opinion with me. We were who we were.
“You guys look like you’re contemplating the mysteries of the universe,” Aidan interrupted, wandering our way. “Why so serious?”
I didn’t know how Cooper expected me to respond—maybe to suddenly start spilling the beans about his deepest, darkest secrets, but I shrugged. “Nothing much. Just letting Cooper know how much I’m enjoying hearing you guys play. You sound like you’ve been together forever.”
Apparently, this triggered some kind of memory because both of them burst into laughter. “You wouldn’t be saying that if you heard us in the beginning. We came close to being called Beautiful Mess. In fact, that was the title of one of the first songs we performed,” Aidan divulged.
Cooper groaned loudly as he dragged his fingers through his disheveled dark hair. “Fuck, don’t remind me. I’m surprised we weren’t booed off the stage, rotten vegetables thrown at us.”
“Come on, surely you weren’t that bad,” I jested, unable to envision the level of suck they were hinting at.
“Don’t let our current awesomeness fool you. It took a little time to find our sound, as they say in the music biz.” Aidan crooked his fingers in the air, making air quotes.
“I can’t believe I’ve never asked this, but how did you all even get together?” It was a question I’d been meaning to ask for a while now but kept forgetting. Leaning forward, I grabbed my glass of water and took a sip, relishing the coolness in my throat.
“It was Marty,” Cooper volunteered, his leg now bent and his elbow resting on top of it. “We were good friends in high school, team mates on a lot of the different sporting teams.”
“So you were jocks,” I teased.
“I played offense, and he was defense for the varsity football team. We lost touch once we graduated, me enlisting to the Marines and him working for his dad. We’d always talked about one day forming a band, but that was mostly at parties when we were drunk and thought we sounded epic.”
“I knew Marty from the bar we used to frequent, and after starting up a conversation one night, he invited me to come over that following weekend. When I showed up, Troy was there, and it all sort of evolved from there,” Aidan chuckled, his smile a little crooked.
“You weren’t there?” I asked, turning to look at Cooper with curiosity.
He shook his head, and for the first time tonight, I watched his expression harden ever so subtly. “This was around the time I’d been home for a while and was still going through physical therapy. I was a little . . . what’s the right word?”
“Preoccupied,” Aidan added, finishing Cooper’s sentence for him. “It almost took an act of congress to get this stubborn fool to join us.”
Snorting as Aidan lightly punched his shoulder, there was no remorse in Cooper’s tone. “I still can’t believe I said yes . . . especially back then. Being put in the spotlight was the last thing on my mind.”
I was missing something—a piece of the puzzle that would help it all make sense. “So why did you?”
“Honestly? I have no idea. Maybe because it was Marty who asked, or I was bored.” Cooper playfully rubbed the top of Lola’s head with the pad of his thumb. “I remember he called one day and said he wanted to catch up. From the second I sat down at Ruby’s, he was relentless—gave me every reason in the book why I had to be their lead singer and that I owed it to myself to say yes.”
Seemed the bar they frequently played at was where it all began. “What finally made you cave? I’m almost positive it wasn’t an easy task to get you to agree.” Just mentioning that reminded me of my own conversation with him and wanting to be friends. Cooper was as stubborn as they come.
He blushed—honest-to-goodness, his cheeks turned a bashful shade of red. It changed his expression to something a lot more boyish than usual. Still made him look sexy as hell, but who noticed that kind of thing anyway?
Right?
“The same thing that tempts any other hot-blooded guy who thinks with his crotch . . . Marty promised me the perfect excuse to indulge the ‘rock star’ lifestyle. Plenty of sex. Unlimited alcohol. Nonstop partying.” His answer was so incredibly candid, there was no choice but to respect him for it. Not everyone was brave enough to reveal the truth behind their actions, instead choosing to fabricate a story that either cast them in a better light or didn’t feel as uncomfortable. “I was pretty fucked up back then.”
“What do you mean ‘back then’, buddy?” Aida
n teased. They may have started off as strangers, but there was definitely a strong friendship between him and Cooper. It was unmistakable. “We all were. We each needed it.”
His comment triggered my inquisitive streak, and I wished we had more time to discuss it. That natural desire to understand human nature was one of the reasons I’d gravitated to the field of psychology. It wasn’t enough for me to simply watch people go through their daily lives. I wanted to know what drove and motivated them—to make sense of how experiences shaped their realities and what made each person tick.
Cooper intrigued the hell out me, and now, it appeared the others had stories of their own.
“And the name?” That was something else I’d wondered. “Out of every possible title, how’d you come up with Damaged Souls?”
Cooper beat Aidan to the punch. “Because FUBAR didn’t seem appropriate at the time.”
The word felt familiar, but I couldn’t quite remember where I’d heard it.
Aidan saved me from asking or Googling it. “It means Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition.”
“I still say it was the perfect name,” Cooper uttered, stretching slowly before getting up onto his feet. I didn’t know if he was ever aware at how often he did this, but I could always tell when his leg began hurting—he’d rub at his thigh, and pain lines would crinkle his brow. “I also suggested We Be Fucked.”
“Or simply Fucked,” Aidan added. “There was definitely a theme back then. We tossed a few more ideas around until Troy spoke up. He’d been sitting there quietly, just listening to us banter back and forth, arguing for our favorites.” He cast a quick glance at his friend, who was currently strumming softly on his guitar, his eyes closed as he focused on the different chords he was playing. “I guess we’re just a bunch of damaged souls.”
“Bam!” Cooper’s loud comment made me jump in my seat as he banged his fist in his palm. “It clicked, and we’ve been Damaged Souls ever since.” Offering his hand to Aidan, he helped pull him up. Side by side, they were pretty impressive—the same lean form and tall.
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