by D. Kelly
I can’t stop thinking about Dimples watching me as we passed by. The thought brings heat between my legs, even if I shouldn’t let it. He’s not relationship material, and I’m not supermodel gorgeous. Besides, all these men have a reputation for one-night stands and unemotional flings. Those are two things I can’t do, not anymore. When I’m sleeping with someone, it’s because I’m invested in them emotionally. Which is probably why I haven’t had sex with a man in over a year.
Don’t believe everything you hear, Amelia. You know better than most how things are blown out of proportion in this industry.
After the encore, the sounds of the thunderous applause echo all the way into the green room. Even the walls are shaking from it. Belle’s nerves are starting to kick in because she’s simultaneously tapping her foot and picking at her nails, both of which are nervous habits of hers. “Belle, you need to breathe. They’re just people. You’ve interviewed tons of musicians before and I’ve never seen you this nervous.”
“I know, Mel, but this is BAD, and they’re the holy grail of interviews. I can’t help but be nervous, and of course their excessive good looks only make it worse.” I can’t argue with her there, they are good-looking men.
The voices resonating from the hallway are growing closer by the second until they’re suddenly upon us and the door is thrown open.
“That was fucking awesome! One of the best shows we’ve done this entire tour. The outdoor venues are so much better. Don’t you guys think so?” As they talk amongst themselves, I’m drawn in by their enthusiasm.
Seeing these men come in on their post-performance high is captivating. Their happiness is almost contagious. Belle and I are taking them in, watching in fascination. It’s been a long time since I was a part of this kind of excitement. I almost forgot how much goes into pulling off a successful show. They’ve got a posse of people with them. The PA I saw earlier is trying to wrangle them up while I assume their stylist is the one carrying a few extra shirts.
The cute one with the dimples takes one of those shirts. When he pulls his sweaty shirt off over his head, I’m absolutely mesmerized by the way his muscles move. His abs are screaming for me to come and lick them, the beads of sweat crying out my name. I want to taste his essence on my tongue. Sadly, as fast as the mini porn played out in my head, it’s over as his shirt goes on. He catches me looking at him and flashes me a sexy smirk again. The flush I feel spreading over my face is nothing, I’m sure, compared to how it looks.
Hoping to suppress the flush, I open my water bottle and try to cool myself down from the sudden heat enveloping my body. He’s eying my lips as they wrap around the rim of the bottle, and I wish I were wrapping them around him instead. I drink as slowly and seductively as possible, knowing he’s watching me. When I raise my eyes back up to his, he licks his lips. Holy hell.
This is foreplay, yet, at the same time, couldn’t be anything further from it. The spell is broken when one of the crew calls for him. It’s just as well, musicians aren’t my thing… anymore.
After about twenty minutes, they dismiss the posse surrounding them and finally sit down across from us. Their manager is an older man with a gentle smile who begins the introductions.
“I’m Warren, BAD’s manager, and these are the bastards themselves.”
Belle and I laugh at his joke, which also serves as an ice breaker.
“Warren, it’s nice to meet you. Thank you for extending this opportunity to Slammed. We’re honored for the exclusive. I’m Belle Dixson and this is my good friend Amelia Greyson, but we all call her Mel.”
The cute one snorts out loud, and it’s kind of a dick move.
“Amelia and Belle. Look, guys, we’ve got our own Disney fucking Princesses for the night.”
“Shut up, Sawyer,” their frustrated voices reply in unison.
“Dick.” The single, snarky word escapes my mouth before I have a chance to stop it, and Belle is horrified. Rightly so. Sawyer actually shuts up, and a hush falls across the room. Sometimes, the old me creeps out when I least expect her to. Shit, this is so bad.
“That was fucking AWESOME! I’ve never seen anyone but family call Sawyer out on his shit and I’ve known him all my life. I’m Noah Weston, and I’m very pleased to meet you, Amelia.”
Belle exhales and flashes me a smile. “Nice to meet you, too, Noah,” I answer, relieved they can overlook my foot-in-mouth moment.
“I’m with Noah, that was epic. I’m Darren, and the guy at the end of the couch with his head in the book is Wyatt.”
Wyatt peeks up from the book in his lap and smiles.
“Sorry, I’m behind. I promised my wife I would read this book and I haven’t had much time. I wanted to at least try and squeeze in a chapter before we Skype later.”
“You’re such a pussy, Wyatt. What man worth his balls would actually read The O Factor?” Sawyer laughs at Wyatt, and my stomach plummets fast as Belle tries to hold in her laughter. That’s my book, and this is about to get really uncomfortable.
“One who loves his wife. Why don’t you just go find a chick to hook up with already so you’ll stop being such an ass?”
“What do you think of the book so far, Wyatt?” Belle asks, ignoring their exchange. I could kill her!
“On or off the record?”
“Off,” Belle replies casually.
“It’s interesting. I mean, I’ve never read a girl’s point of view on sex before, it’s crazy. It’s definitely keeping me reading for sure.”
“Well, it has been number one on the New York Times bestseller list for three weeks, so it’s got to be good.”
Couch just swallow me up now, please.
I close my eyes and take a breath, hoping to ease my nerves.
“What’s wrong, Princess Amelia? Are you too prude to talk about a sex book?” Sawyer taunts.
Belle laughs so loud and so long, tears are beginning to pool in her eyes.
“Why do I get the feeling I’m missing something here?” Noah asks, intrigued by what they’re obviously missing.
Belle finally loses her composure and wipes the corner of her eye as she shamelessly outs me. She’s officially off my Christmas list. “Who wrote that book, Wyatt?” Belle asks sweetly.
Wyatt flips the book over, and a huge smile breaks out across his face. I don’t have a photo on the book, but how many Amelia Greysons are out there walking around? My guess is not many.
“I think Sawyer is about to eat his words. This night keeps getting better and better.” Wyatt grabs a pen off the table and brings his book to me. He’s going for dramatic. Lovely.
“Ms. Amelia Greyson, will you please autograph my book for my wife? And before you say no, just keep in mind she’s a huge fan, and if I tell her I met you and didn’t get your autograph, I won’t be getting any Os, either. Her name is Annabeth but we just call her Anna.”
I can’t even bring myself to look at the rest of these guys. Belle’s giggling again, and I make a mental note to kill her when we leave here. But Wyatt asked so nicely, how could I not sign his book? I reach out, taking the pen and book from him, and autograph it quickly. Looking up when I hand it back to him, all eyes are on me.
“Never judge a book by its cover, Sawyer,” Noah says to him smugly, but his eyes and smile are focused solely on me.
Noah’s beautiful. I know it’s odd to describe a man that way, but he is, and so is Sawyer, which only makes sense because they’re practically identical. Their eyes are as green as a forest after the rain. They’ve got strong, chiseled jaws, and both are easily over six feet tall and equally fit. Sawyer has dimples where Noah is lacking them, but Noah has personality where Sawyer is just an ass. Noah’s coppery-brown hair is perfectly styled, as is Sawyer’s, but his is black as sin. Sawyer has his lip pierced; Noah, his eyebrow. Both have tattoos. I wouldn’t kick either out of my bed.
“Thanks, Amelia! My wife is going to love this!”
His happiness is inf
ectious, making it easy to return his smile. “Of course, I’m glad she enjoyed the book.”
Belle takes his presumed slip as a chance to dive into her interview. “I didn’t realize any of you were married.”
They exchange knowing glances, and Wyatt nods his agreement to the group of men. “Wyatt and Anna have been together since we were in high school. Rumors always have us portrayed as big playboys, but that’s not necessarily the truth. Anyway, I don’t know how it flew under the radar, but they were married six months ago in a private ceremony and no one has picked up on it yet. It’s beyond bizarre. We’re thinking someone misplaced the paperwork or misfiled it at the courthouse for it not to be out by now,” Noah answers Belle, but his eyes never leave mine.
“So this is off the record, too?” Belle asks them.
“No, you guys can announce it. Wyatt even has a few pictures he’ll email you to print.” Wyatt nods his head in agreement with Warren’s statement, but he’s once again engrossed in my book.
“If I can just be blunt here, I have the feeling this isn’t going to be a typical off-the-cuff interview. Why don’t you guys tell me why we’re here and then I can build from there.” That’s Belle, she loves to get to the point as quickly as possible.
“We’re done with this leg of the tour in a week. In three weeks, we’re releasing an acoustic album. It’s something we’ve been working on for a few years now. This is vastly different than anything we’ve ever done, but it’s good. Might even be the best album we’ve ever done.” All the guys nod and murmur their agreement with Sawyer.
“Now that might be something I would be interested in listening to.” Damn, I said that out loud. Where the hell is my brain tonight?
“What’s that, Princess? Why wouldn’t you be interested? You’re here now, aren’t you?” I don’t know why Sawyer throws me off my game so much, but I’m blushing from head to toe, I’m sure of it. They’re all looking at me, eagerly awaiting my answer. Belle only laughs; she’s getting way too much enjoyment out of my discomfort tonight.
“Well, if you want the truth …”
Noah nods, and I can tell his curiosity is at an all-time high.
“I’m not a fan. Tonight was the first time I’ve ever listened to more than one of your songs in the same sitting.”
Sawyer’s offended. “You’re fucking lying. The way you were checking me out earlier said differently.”
“Look, asshat, I’m not a fan. Your music is too much for me. I’ve got eclectic tastes, but I grew up in the Hollywood club scene listening to loud rock bands my entire childhood. This kind of music just doesn’t appeal to me. Was I checking you guys out earlier? Sure, because you’re attractive men, and I’d have to be dead not to notice. It wasn’t because I was fangirling all over you, you can trust me when I say that. I’m only here because Belle asked me to come. If you’d prefer for me to wait outside, I’ll be happy to.”
Sawyer starts to speak, but Noah cuts him off. “No, Amelia, don’t go. It’s a rarity we meet anyone who doesn’t know us and doesn’t enjoy our music. Actually, I don’t think anyone has ever admitted to not being a fan. Not ever. It’s kinda cool.”
“Can I continue?” Sawyer asks. He’s frustrated, and it makes me want to fuck all his frustrations right out of him.
“Go for it,” Noah replies.
“As I was saying, we’ve got the new album dropping. In four weeks, we’re starting a new tour. Worldwide. We have the schedule, but these venues are going to be smaller and more intimate. There are going to be less tickets available but more shows. The U.S. tour is going to last a year. We’ll have a few breaks, a couple of weeks off at the holidays, but that’s it. It’s going to be a hard schedule, but we’ve all agreed to it.”
Belle is taking copious notes, her eyes sparkling brightly as she writes furiously.
“The reason for our exclusive announcement is because at the end of this year-long tour … we’re retiring.”
Belle gasps, her eyes glancing from member to member, and all of them are nodding their heads in affirmation.
“Why?”
Darren speaks up to answer her, “We’ve been best friends since junior high school. We’re always going to be best friends. Our success has been beyond our wildest expectations, but it’s been ten years, twelve if you count the two years before we were signed, fourteen if you factor in when we actually first started. Nine of them were spent touring and in and out of the studio after our first album dropped and took off. It’s time. We want to enjoy life. Wyatt wants to settle down and have some kids. Anna has been so gracious putting his needs first, but they’re married now, and she should be his top priority. That’s hard to do when you’re constantly on the road.”
Belle nods. “Any chance she’ll go on tour with you?”
“No. I don’t want that life for her. She comes sometimes, but she has her own career she’s trying to build. I don’t want to come in the way of her dreams. She’s never tried to get me to give up mine,” Wyatt answers softly.
“It’s not to say in five or ten years we won’t miss the hell out of this or have more music to put out. We’re just not touring anymore, but the band is not breaking up,” Noah clarifies.
“This is huge, you guys. Slammed readers are going to freak out. The whole world is going to freak out. Why did you decide you want us to run this story?”
“When these guys told me they wanted to quit touring, we got together and tried to come up with a game plan. You’re right, this is huge, and we wanted to do it with dignity and grace. Slammed is the only magazine out there that has never printed any rumors about BAD. We had a whole team on it for months, and everyone else out there, at one time or another, has printed something untrue. Slammed has integrity, and we admire that.” Warren smiles warmly at us.
“So much so, we want to work with Slammed exclusively over the next year. We want Slammed to run a monthly post with the upcoming venues and ticket sales information. I know it’s old school, but I think the Internet has taken all the fun away from concerts as far as ticket sales are concerned. I remember, as a kid, waiting in line with my dad at the local music store, hoping to get there early enough to be one of the lucky ones to get tickets. The people you meet in line, the camaraderie, it should all be part of the experience. We’ve got a deal with Top Hitz Music and they’re going to join with Ticketmaker to sell tickets for us. If people want them, they’re going to have to wait in line for them.” Wow, that’s actually really cool. Sawyer almost sounds like a nice guy when he’s all business.
“We’ll give Slammed access to any shows they want, and you’ll be in constant contact with Warren to set it up. You’ll be able to give an insider’s view into all things BAD.” Noah smiles at Belle, who looks like she’s about to pass out. This is major for her career.
“Ladies, if you could step outside for just a minute, I need to run something by the guys. Mac!” Warren bellows loudly.
The door opens, and their grumpy bodyguard pops his head in. “Yeah, boss?”
“Mac, can you keep an eye on these beautiful ladies for just a few minutes out in the hall? I’ll come get them when we’re ready for them to come back.”
“You got it, boss. Ladies, please come with me.”
Mac glares at us as we follow him outside.
“So what did you two do? Did you hit on Wyatt?”
Belle looks up at him, craning her neck because she’s all of five feet tall and Mac is at least six foot four.
“We didn’t do anything to them. Maybe you should start giving people the benefit of the doubt and show your naturally sunny disposition every once in a while.”
Mac laughs, and it makes me smile. He doesn’t seem like a bad guy anymore, just protective, and he should be.
“Maybe you’re right, little lady. I’m Mac, head of BAD security, and you are?”
“I’m Belle, and this is Amelia,” she replies with a warm smile. Mac takes her tiny hand into hi
s big one and gives her a firm handshake.
“It’s nice to meet you both.”
Mac is quiet, and so are Belle and I. There’s a lot of noise coming from inside the green room. And by noise, I mean raised voices and yelling. Nothing we can make out, but it’s enough to make us both uneasy. After about fifteen minutes, Warren comes out to get us. He’s smiling so big you’d never know there were raised voices in here. In fact, they all look happy, except for Sawyer, but I’m beginning to think the brooding looks he shares are all part of his charm.
“How would you girls like to come and have a late dinner with us? We have lots more we’d like to discuss with you, both of you, actually, but we’re starving and Sawyer can’t function like a normal human being without food.” Noah’s invitation is warm and welcoming. It’s not like we actually have much choice in the matter because Belle is nowhere near done gathering information for her article.
“Sure, that would be great. Where do you want to go? I’ll let the driver know and we’ll meet you there,” Belle tells Noah.
“We’re going to our house in Malibu. The food is already there waiting for us. Our housekeeper loves to feed us when we’re in town. She’s a great cook. Trust me, you’ll love whatever she makes. Darren and Wyatt can ride with you guys, if you don’t mind. Sawyer, Warren, and I have a few things to discuss on the way there.”
Belle is over-the-moon excited; she’s covering it well, but I know that expression. Between the BAD interview and Darren eye fucking her all night, it’s a dream come true for her.
Once we’re all in the car and on the road, Wyatt asks me for a favor. Wyatt is cute, no doubt. But he’s one of those guys whose cuteness factor is boosted because of his adorable smile. It makes you instantly want to say yes to whatever he asks for. I would never want to be the one responsible for taking that smile off his face.
“Amelia, would you do me a huge favor?”
A favor for a rock star—even though he seems mild enough, I’m still cautious. “Depends on the favor, Wyatt,” I reply, smiling right back at him.