Marty wasn’t buying it, eyeing me suspiciously. “You sure? You didn’t seem fine when you practically jumped out of your skin.”
He’d noticed. I kept forgetting how observant he was. “I’m managing.”
“We can always hang out somewhere else until it’s time to play, Cooper. If it’s too much—” I didn’t let him finish his sentence. Damned if I was going to let him baby me.
“I said I’m fine. If I feel something coming on, I’ll take care of it.” There were plenty of vendors onsite that sold a variety of alcohol. If it got too much—too over stimulating—I’d simply do what I always did.
I’d drink until I was buzzed, numbing everything down. If that didn’t work, I’d go to plan B, aka the pills I always had on me just in case. I’d danced to this tune often enough that I was an absolute pro at self-medicating.
Because you’re a real fucking time bomb, Cooper. I snorted, the notion also earning an eye roll. Just this one line of thought sparked my thirst.
“Okay, man. I trust you.” And with that, Marty continued. “We go on in two hours and need to be ready backstage twenty minutes before. Our set goes for about forty five minutes, and we’re pretty much approved to play whatever we want.”
We’d already suspected this and had put together a list of songs that showcased our talent. A slight flutter from nerves coursed through me, one I immediately squashed. There was nothing to panic over, despite the large crowds. We’d performed countless times, and this would be no different.
People would either love us or hate us—preferably the first.
“Let’s go get the girls then and maybe grab a beer while we wait. Whet the whistle, so to speak,” I grinned, already imagining the sublime feel of something cold trailing down my throat.
Might as well add that to my list of stellar attributes—alcoholic. When life handed out lemons, people could angrily argue and rant over how unfair it is, or they could make lemonade. My vote was to drink it down in one go and savor the pucker.
In my case, alcohol was an end to a means. It gave me the control I needed to function. Case closed.
Signaling to the girls, Marty nodded. “Sounds like a plan, bro.”
****
“Are you nervous?” Playing with the rim of her plastic cup, Caylee cast me a cautious glance before taking a small sip of her beer. While it wasn’t the best, it was cold and wet. She’d argued with me when I stepped forward to pay for her drink, stubbornly offering every excuse under the sun for why I didn’t have to.
She was right. I didn’t have to—we weren’t on a date, and I shouldn’t feel obligated to foot the bill whenever we were together.
But I wanted to. It was one of the few things I enjoyed.
It wasn’t until the container was in her hand and the guy behind the counter started taking the next person’s order that she finally conceded. The expression on her face, paired with the slight huff she expelled as we walked over to join the others, made the whole interaction worth it. Caylee Sawyer was a sexy woman, but right now, she was nothing short of adorable.
I’d defy her every chance I had if it meant I’d see the same reaction—the fearless glint in her eye as she stared me down in a battle of wills.
“Nah,” I replied, my gaze darting about the crowds surrounding us. Just in the brief time we’d been at the festival, the large property was buzzing with excited chatter and carefree laughter. People were having a good time, some even dancing where they stood to the musical beats filling the air.
“So you’ve played in front of this kind of audience before?” Caylee asked right as someone bumped into her, sending her staggering forward. I didn’t even think, instead reacting on instinct. She was only in my arms for a fleeting moment, but it was enough to scramble my brain.
I wasn’t a stranger to the female body, but the softness of Caylee’s skin felt like nothing I’d ever experienced. It was maddening to have her so close and not be able to act on it. All I wanted was to pull her back against me and keep her there.
It took everything in me to let her steady herself, placing distance between us again. Hell, jealously burned strongly within my chest each time I witnessed the ease Marty and Rebecca had together. Things seemed uncomplicated for them.
I’d kill for the chance to simply do what I wanted, when I wanted, with whomever I chose. The frustrating thing was my life had been exactly that—straight forward with no pretense. Then Caylee showed up, and her arrival threw my world into a tailspin.
“This is the first time any of us have performed at this level,” I answered, shrugging nonchalantly.
“So how are you all cool as a cucumber then? I’d be puking my guts up in some corner from nerves.” Her jittery laugh made me wonder if she was feeling anxious for us.
There were so many ways to answer her question. Peering over the rim of my drink, I took a large mouthful, swallowing the last of my beer. “Well, I guess if I didn’t have my good luck charm with me, I’d be a basket case.”
“Don’t tell me . . . you wear special underwear!” Caylee smacked her hand over her mouth, a pretty pink blush spreading across her cheeks. “I can’t believe I asked you that.”
“Wanna see?” I teased, hooking my thumb into the top of my jeans.
“Want to see what?” Aidan interrupted, joining the conversation while Troy chatted with Marty and Rebecca. The poor couple had been wrapped up in each other, totally oblivious to what was happening around them. Based on the glares Marty was shooting Troy, he didn’t appreciate his friend barging in and striking up a discussion.
“I was asking Cooper why he isn’t nervous,” Caylee repeated, placing her hand over her stomach. “I’m not the one who has to get on that stage, and I feel like I’ve swallowed a swarm of butterflies.” She crossed her eyes and grimaced, earning a laugh from Aidan and me.
“Coop is too tough to let something like nerves get the best of him.” After slapping my shoulder, Aidan gripped it tight, a huge smile on his face. “In case you haven’t noticed, our boy here is pretty badass.”
I couldn’t keep from snorting. “Whatever.”
“I still want to know what your lucky charm is. If it’s not underwear, what is it?” Caylee prodded, her gaze momentarily dropping down my front before rising back to my face.
She was imagining me standing here stripped down. Fuck if that didn’t make me grin harder.
“Well?” Aidan added. “Don’t keep the girl waiting. Answer her question.”
With him here, I wasn’t sure I wanted to reveal what I’d originally meant. It was one thing to say something cheesy to a girl, but another to say it in front of a friend who would never let me live it down.
Sound like a sap or play it safe?
Caylee won. “You’re my lucky charm.” It was my turn to color.
There was no doubt my response delighted her.
There was also no doubt Aidan was biting his tongue, some kind of smartass remark just waiting to be spoken.
“Awww,” she gushed, tilting her head as she peered up at me through her eyelashes. “I do believe that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me, Cooper Hensley.”
Damn, she was flirting with me back.
“Why don’t you say stuff like that to me?” Aidan goaded, pretending to wipe away phantom tears. “After everything we’ve been through.”
“Fuck off,” I growled low, annoyed I’d ignored the need to play it safe. I could practically hear the upcoming comments from the rest of the guys once Aidan retold this story.
My irritation was short-lived, however. Balling her hand into a tight fist, Caylee cocked back her arm and punched Aidan hard. “Quit being a jerk!”
With a soft oomph of surprise, Aidan took a step back, bravely laughing at the indignant woman staring up at him. “Damn. Remind me to never piss you off.” He rubbed the spot on his arm. “Or at least not before we perform.”
His remark instantly diffused the feisty attitude Caylee had working for her. “O
h shit, I forgot.”
“He’s fine,” I interjected, shaking my head at Aidan. “He’s just trying to milk you for some extra sympathy.”
“Am not!” he fired hotly.
“So, what you’re saying is I hurt you?” Caylee asked sweetly. “Sweet, little girl, me.”
I couldn’t stop from laughing as Aidan began stammering. She had him tongue-tied. “Well . . .”
“Did you leave your balls in your man purse? Do you need to go home and get them?” My insides warmed at the sound of Caylee’s stifled chuckle.
And just like that—the tables had turned, and Aidan was on the receiving end of a good-natured taunt.
“Wanker,” he grumbled, flipping me off. “Here I was, trying to be friendly, and you both tag teamed me. I see how it is.”
“We love you, though,” Caylee smiled, throwing her arm around his waist for a side hug. “How about I buy you a beer to make up for hitting you?”
“Alcohol from a pretty girl? Who am I to say no?”
“Can I get you another one?” Caylee’s question was for me. It was on the tip of my tongue to shake my head. What I needed was something a little stronger with a bigger kick than the watered-down beer they were selling.
“Sure.”
As I reached for my wallet, she rested her hand gently on my forearm to stop me. “This one’s on me. Okay?”
All I could do was nod and watch her walk away with Aidan toward the white tent set up as a temporary bar. I couldn’t have spoken even if I’d tried. There was no way I could trust myself not to blurt out the thoughts running rampant in my mind.
This one’s on me.
On her.
Me on her.
My body lying over hers.
Skin touching skin.
Thrusting.
Savoring.
Losing myself in her.
Over and over and over and over.
“Cooper?” Marty’s concerned face swam before me. Behind him stood Rebecca and Troy. “You okay?” Sometimes I thought he worried too much.
“Just thinking,” was all I said, my gaze naturally scanning the crowd until I found Caylee.
Something told me I wouldn’t be able to keep her at arm’s length for much longer.
“Hey, can you let Caylee know I’ll be back? I think I need to walk for a bit . . . get into the right mindset.” My need to escape had nothing to do with the show and everything to do with the beautiful friend I was starting to need more and more.
“You want some company?”
Call it cowardly, but I didn’t care. Shaking my head, I didn’t give him a chance to tag along. “I’ll be back.”
With my resolve to keep things strictly platonic with Caylee intact.
Hopefully.
Chapter Twenty
Caylee
“Holy shit!” Rebecca rasped, her eyes wild and flashing with excitement, her hand tightly gripping mine. “What the hell was that?”
That was a good question. For the life of me, I was speechless. We’d seen the guys play countless time, heard the same songs, but this performance—they’d been phenomenal.
Magical.
Insane.
So freaking amazing that I’d be lucky if I could speak properly because I’d screamed so loudly. It had been impossible to stand there quietly and listen. The energy blazing from the stage as the guys did their thing had been electrifying—addicting. The forty-five minute slot went by way too fast, leaving the crowd chanting for more. They’d given them what they wanted—returning to the stage for an extra fifteen minutes.
Even then, it hadn’t been enough to quench the audience’s thirst.
In all my life, I hadn’t experienced anything like it. All I knew was if this was how I was feeling, I couldn’t imagine how Cooper or the others were. I wouldn’t be surprised if they floated from the stage on a total high.
Pressing against the soft spot at the base of my throat, I coughed gently, testing to see how much damage I’d done to my vocal cords. “I guess they all ate their Wheaties this morning?” My voice matched the scratchiness of Rebecca’s. For the next few hours, at least, our conversations would resemble that of pubescent teenagers.
Neither of us had moved, continuing to stare at the stage as volunteers cleared away Damaged Souls gear, preparing for the following act. “Am I the only one a little stunned? I mean, I already knew they were good, but wow.”
I knew exactly what she meant. Something deep inside me whispered that today was a game changer for them. There was no way things would stay the same after this. “Let’s go meet them behind stage,” I answered breathlessly, my heart still racing with adrenaline. “That’s if we can get through the throng of girls wanting to throw their panties at them.”
Winking at Rebecca, she replied precisely how I’d expected—with a possessive growl. “Then why are we still standing here? Let’s go rescue our men.” The determined look on her face made me chuckle. Good luck to anyone who foolishly set their sights on Marty, hoping to take him home. They’d have to get through her first, and she would be relentless—merciless even.
She was definitely someone you’d be wrong to underestimate.
What I admired most was she was also someone who, when they saw what they wanted, had no problems reaching out and taking it.
Unlike me.
But that was another story for another day.
Right now, the important thing was for us to figure out a way to quickly navigate the growing crowd. Everywhere I turned, I saw people happily singing and dancing to the music, enjoying the cool, late afternoon weather. Without a cloud in the sky, it had been a gorgeous day, and the approaching sunset promised to be as incredible as the green forest that edged the large property the festival was set up on. When we’d first arrived, I hadn’t been quite sure whether this was an ideal venue, but thankfully, I’d been proven wrong.
White tents selling food and drinks lined the back of the huge field filled with green grass, the entire focus centered on the stage and scaffolds of lights. On either side, colorful banners hung with the word Rock-A-Palooza and musical graphics arranged to make an eye-catching logo. When attendees got restless and needed to move about, there were also vendors displaying merchandise for some of the bigger bands.
I hadn’t been the only one who’d looked in that direction and declared the day was soon approaching where Damaged Souls products would be available for purchase. Rebecca and I had already lost count how many people had stopped us and asked about the shirts we were wearing. One had even offered to buy my tank top straight off my body.
People were crazy, and I loved it. In my mind, this all meant great things for Cooper and the guys.
“Here, hold my hand,” Rebecca asked, keeping her balance as she was jostled about by excited concertgoers. “Seems everyone else had the same idea to go hang out backstage,” she hollered, reaching back and grabbing my hand. The closer we got to where the guys said to meet them, the harder it became to walk in a straight line. With each step, it became more maze-like. We took sharp lefts and rights with the hope that eventually it would lead us to them. I hadn’t spotted them yet, but my view was also hindered each time we passed couples—girls perched high on shoulders, plastic cups waving through the air, the contents occasionally slopping everywhere because of careless owners.
By some miracle, despite the vast quantities of alcohol being enjoyed, there was still a friendly energy permeating through each person. Angry outbursts were few and far between—breaking the stereotype that mobs of rock fans plus alcohol eventually equaled violence.
“Where’s the cheese?” I exclaimed, my voice cracking from the force of speaking over the noise. “Seriously, I feel like I’m a mouse and at the end of this, a nice big slice of cheddar will be waiting as my reward.”
Rebecca laughed, briefly glancing over her shoulder at me with a huge grin on her face. “Awww, is that what you’re calling Cooper now?”
“Cheddar!” I yelled, knowing sh
e was teasing but still needing to correct her. When she winked, I squeezed her fingers tightly, gloating with twisted satisfaction when she yelped. “Serves you right!”
“Didn’t mean I was wrong, either,” she retorted. “But hey, you keep telling yourself that, Ms. Denial.”
Finally, we came to a stop, choosing not to stand with the bulk of people waiting, but just off to the side by the metal barrier. “Is it just me, or are we swimming in a sea of quivering ovaries?” My snarky observation startled me, and I slapped my hand over my mouth, muffling my embarrassed giggle.
Rebecca’s eyes widened with surprise. “Quivering ovaries?”
I waved my hand through the air, gesturing to the swarm of chattering women, who stood primping and posturing. A sharp bitterness filled me as the thought of Cooper going anywhere with any of these hussies barged to the forefront of my mind.
Did I just call all these women hussies?
This new turn of events horrified me. I was losing my mind.
“Caylee?” Rebecca leaned to the side, lining herself up in my view. “I was just kidding, right?”
It took a second for me to realize what she meant. Shaking my head, my brain whirled into overdrive as I tried to make sense of the burning jealousy now coursing through me, heating my insides. “No, I was just thinking.”
“About what?”
An old-fashioned lady brawl.
Pummeling anyone who dared look Cooper’s way.
Taking down the competition.
Woah. I inwardly cringed. When did I start viewing him as someone worth fighting for?
“Caylee?” Rebecca asked again, this time grabbing my face and forcing me to look into her eyes. She knew something had happened, was happening. She was like a wolf smelling the blood of its prey. Once she caught the scent, it was only a matter of time before she’d drawn the entire truth from you.
I’d watched her use her “superpower”, as she called it, on others, but this was the first situation where I was the object of her scrutiny. It would take an act of God to distract her.
Or in this case, the flash of ginger hair at the corner of my eye. “Oh, look. The guys are there.”
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