Two gigantic monitors hung above the stage so people at the back of the room could still catch the action, but we’d decided we wanted our metal up close and personal. This particular band had five members—two guitarists, a singer, a drummer, and a female bassist (which I personally thought was badass). While women in metal weren’t unheard of, they were rare, so I celebrated inside at seeing her up there playing with the boys. The monitors were flashing ads for local businesses, upcoming concerts, and info about the two bands playing that evening, but I caught the words Name of My Killer on the bass drum that faced the audience.
Ethan shouted, loud enough so I could hear, “Someday soon I’ll be on a stage like that.”
“That would be awesome. I fantasize about stuff like that too.”
“Fantasize?” His brows furrowed. “I have a rock band. We just need to get our shit together.”
“You’re in a band?” Holy crap. I’d liked Ethan before, but that just made him an even more desirable commodity as far as I was concerned.
“Yeah. My band’s called Bullet.” His eyes scoured mine. “I never told you?”
I shook my head. “What do you play?”
“Guitar…but I do some of the vocals too.”
Don’t ask me where my sudden forwardness came from. “Wow…guitarists and vocalists are my favorites. You’re setting yourself up to be a girl magnet.” As soon as I’d said it, I felt the warmth and redness from blushing crawl up my neck to my cheeks. Good thing it was dark in there.
He didn’t seem embarrassed at all…or even shocked. Instead, he said, “You have class, Ms. Quinn.”
“As do you, Mr. Richards.” I giggled.
But then our smiles faded, and I would almost swear the volume of the music decreased too. He ran his hand over the side and then the back of my hair, resting his palm on the nape of my neck.
Oh…this was it, wasn’t it? Feeling his hand brush over my hair and the top of my ear had sent electric chills down my spine. I couldn’t pull my eyes away from his, and I figured my gaze was dreamy, as though I were looking through rose-colored glasses, my head tilted, my lips slightly parted in an innocent yet desirous fashion. And as his head tilted toward mine, I felt my heartbeat increase, and I awaited the touch of his lips on mine.
It never happened, though, because the frontman of the band started talking, announcing their first song. Right after, one of the guitars screeched, and they began to play—a hard, driving, heavy yet melodic song. Ethan kept his eyes on me still, though, and smiled. He moved his hand over so that his arm was now draped over my shoulder, and then he turned to watch the band.
His arm didn’t stay there long, though, because we had some serious headbanging to do.
And that was okay, because we’d had a great moment, and I knew there would be more of them. The music, of course, would always take precedence.
* * *
When it was time to leave, we were exhausted and shouting at each other because we couldn’t hear a thing. The music had been so loud. It had been an awesome show, and I was so glad I’d gone with Ethan. “Thanks for inviting me,” I said on the way back to his truck.
“Yeah. No problem.” He unlocked the truck and opened the passenger door for me. “You hungry?”
“Starving.” He closed the door and walked to the other side. I felt some relief that he wasn’t—so far, anyway—talking about the second band, because—even though I was a little naïve and unworldly—I was pretty sure the guitarist for the second band was making eyes at me. He was pretty damned good looking, too, but my heart was set on Ethan. It had started before they even got onstage. He’d stood beside me for the last three songs Name of My Killer performed, getting a little too close, but that was okay because we were in a moshing area and that kind of thing is expected, especially with more people. He smiled at me more than once. Problem was, aside from not being Ethan, he had to be in his mid- to late twenties, and that was a little out of my comfort zone. At first, though, I just thought he was being friendly. But as soon as his band had set up onstage, he made sure to make eye contact with me before the house lights went down again. Yeah, the guy was hot. His arms were covered in tattoos, and he was pretty cut. He was a bit too extreme for me, but it worked on him. He had snake bite piercings that ordinarily I didn’t go for, but not only did it work for him, it made him even cuter. And his dark brown hair was longish, in his eyes until he’d flick his head to the side.
I didn’t even know the guy’s name. I only knew he was the guitarist of a kickass awesome local band named Last Five Seconds, and for some reason, the guy had taken a shine to me.
But…that didn’t matter. I was with Ethan, and he was the guy I wanted. “McDonald’s okay with you?”
Had to pay attention. “Yep. Sure. That’s great.”
The drive to the fast food restaurant only took a few minutes, and even though Ethan was playing the music loudly in his truck, my ears felt like they were getting a rest. When we got there, I was surprised at how empty the place was, although there were a couple of cars in the drive-through. When we got up to the counter, Ethan said, “I got yours.”
I shook my head. “You don’t have to. You already paid for my ticket.”
He scowled. “I want to.”
I sucked in a little breath. “Okay.” Didn’t want to argue with that and besides…if it helped him feel more comfortable getting closer to me, then I definitely didn’t want to stop him. So we ordered, and they made our food quickly. We found a booth next to a window and sat down. I took my jacket off and set it on the seat next to me. As Ethan unwrapped his burger, I asked, “The name Bullet’s awesome for a band, but are you sure it’s not already taken?”
He looked up at me, sandwich not quite to his lips, and said, “What do you mean?”
“Well…I mean…look. There are thousands of bands out there, lots of ‘em unsigned, right? And I was just thinking—you’ve got Bullet for My Valentine, right, and they’re really famous. Why didn’t they just use the name Bullet? Was it because it was already being used by somebody else?”
Ethan’s brows furrowed, and he almost looked angry, but then he said, “That would totally fucking suck if someone already took that name. We tried all kinds of names and Bullet just fit, you know? And it encompasses the attitude we have—we’re lethal, deadly, but only in the right hands. We’re the ammo for your anger, your pain.” He took a sip of his Coke. “Goddammit. That’s gonna piss me off if it is already taken.”
“Sorry…”
“No, Val, don’t be. That’s something I probably should have already thought about.”
I forced a smile, but I know it was weak. “We can Google it.”
“Yeah, I’m not ready to find out yet.” I smiled and squeezed ketchup out of a packet onto the paper covering the tray. He said, “So how’d you like the bands?”
No way was I going to talk about the hot guitarist of the second band making me feel all warm and gooey. I’d focus on the music. “They were awesome. Thanks again for inviting me.”
“Did you like ‘em?”
“Yeah. The first one was raw and angry, and the second guys were too, but they felt more polished.”
“That’s kind of what I thought, too. I’ve seen ‘em before. They’re good.” We ate in silence for a few moments until Ethan said, “So…you know one of my secrets now.” I looked at him with a confused look on my face, I’m sure. He grinned. “You know about my band. But, you know, we don’t really know a whole lot about each other. I mean…where are you from? What’s your major?”
I nodded. “I’m from Winchester.”
“Winchester…that’s over by Colorado Springs, isn’t it?”
I nodded. “Yep. Where are you from?”
“A podunk shit town about an hour from here. Nothing even worth talking about.” He crumpled up the wrapper from his first burger and began unwrapping a second. “So…major?”
Hmmm…okay, so he didn’t want to talk about his home. I wondere
d why but didn’t want to force the issue. “I’m undecided.”
“Me, too.”
“It’s not that there isn’t anything I’m interested in. In fact, it’s the opposite. I’m interested in a lot of things. Too many, I guess. So…I can’t really decide what I want to do.”
“They say it’s okay to be undecided your first year. You kind of get a feel for what you want to study and then you decide.”
We spent the rest of time at McDonald’s comparing our first semester experiences with each other. We talked about the classes we didn’t have in common, as well as professors and different students we’d met in classes. We also talked about other interests outside of music, and I mentioned that I liked to write poetry. So he made me promise to share my poetry with him sometime. I told him I’d love to as long as he also promised to share his music with me in the near future. He winked and said he would soon.
We arrived back at the college a little while later, and he walked me up to my dorm room. It was after eleven, but it was Friday night, and since I wasn’t worried about losing any sleep, I invited him in. We’d talked about Googling to see if his band’s name was already taken. I liked the name Bullet, especially since I felt like he’d penetrated my heart already, much like a bullet would have, but I feared that name would be too common to not have been taken already.
When we walked in the door to my room, I was surprised to see Charlotte. I had expected her to be on a date or spending the night somewhere else. For her to be in our dorm room so early on a Friday night was odd. Ethan sat backwards in the chair at my desk, and I sat on the edge of my bed across from him. I said, “Ethan, this is my roommate, Charlotte Edwards. Charlotte, my friend, Ethan Richards.”
“You guys went to a concert tonight, right?”
I couldn’t contain my enthusiasm. “Yes. And it was awesome!”
“So all you guys dress that way for your way-out concerts. What’s with all the black? Not that I don’t like black; I love it…” She eyed Ethan from head to toe, even though the back of the chair covered his torso. “Especially on men. But you two look like you went to a funeral, not a concert. Actually, Valerie, you look like a little girl going to a funeral.”
What was she trying to do, aside from upset me? Well, she wasn’t going to get the satisfaction. I was going to keep my cool if it killed me. “Charlotte, you are entitled to your opinion, but I happen to think both Ethan and I are appropriately dressed for the concert we attended. We didn’t look out of place. And, here on campus, I always dress appropriately for classes. I’m sorry you can’t quite understand metal culture.”
Ethan was silent. Maybe he sensed a heated battle. I glanced over at him, and he just grinned in that cocky way of his. Maybe he wanted to see a catfight.
Charlotte raised her pencil-thin eyebrows. “Oh, I understand it. I just don’t get the appeal.”
I shrugged, trying to maintain the peace. “That’s cool. It’s not for everybody.” She rolled her eyes. “And I wouldn’t dress like this every day. I wouldn’t totally metal out for class.”
“Thank goodness.”
I was tired of her bitchiness, and I was pretty irritated that she felt the need to do it in front of my friend and love interest. She was embarrassing. I was going to call her on her rudeness. “What’s that supposed to mean anyway?”
She sneered at me. “You look awful.”
Ethan didn’t let me get in the next word. He said, “She looks fuckin’ awesome.”
That didn’t stop Charlotte. “Only because she’s the exact replica of you.” Ethan raised his eyebrows, as though questioning her sanity. She continued, “Was this planned?”
I was tired of being insulted by the little…bitch. Yes, that’s what she was, and—even though at that point in my life I didn’t use foul language much (believe me when I tell you that’s changed)—I was angry. I was going to say something—anything—as rude and as out of character as possible, hoping to get her attention and make her think about how mean she was. “At least I’m not so desperate for attention that I walk around campus in Victoria’s Secret lingerie when it’s snowing outside.”
Her disinterested look turned into a glare, and she jumped off her bed. “You little bitch!” she spat. “You’ve got nerve. That’s a low blow.”
“Oh, and your cracks about being a little girl and dressing poorly weren’t?”
I guess I’d struck a nerve, although I couldn’t see how. I wasn’t being any ruder than she was. But she lunged at me with her sharp red fingernails anyway. I hadn’t noticed Ethan beside me until he caught her wrists in time. He just looked at her for what seemed like forever, as though to burn something into her brain. He said, “You touch her…or any of her stuff, you’ll have to answer to me.” He still didn’t look at me when he said, “Come on, Val. Let’s go.”
He let go of Charlotte’s wrists, and she started rubbing her left one. As I started following Ethan to the door, she said, “Don’t bother. I won’t stay in this room with this tramp one more minute.”
I stopped and took a deep breath. “Tramp?” I let out a breath and decided just to shut up. I turned around to see what she was doing. She’d slid a small suitcase out from under her bed and opened it on top of her blanket. She really was packing. That was weird. I hadn’t done anything to make her want to leave, had I?
She packed a few things and said, “I’ll be back tomorrow for the rest of my stuff. Can’t wait to have your sicky-sweet cheerful shitty self out of my hair.” She shoved past Ethan to the door.
Once the door slammed, Ethan put his hands on my shoulders and pulled me into an embrace. What a strange evening. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine, but I’m wondering what the hell just happened.”
“You guys fight a lot?”
“No, not really. And I didn’t realize I drove her that crazy.”
Ethan chuckled. “Guess you killed her with kindness.” I didn’t want to think about Charlotte anymore, especially since having my head up against his chest and his arms around my back was distracting the hell out of me. He was quiet when he said, “I wonder where she’ll go.”
Why did he even care? I shouldn’t have let that bother me, but it did. Still, I didn’t plan to say anything about it. “She’ll probably go to one of her boyfriends’. I really don’t care.”
“I should probably go.” He pulled back a little to look me in the eye. “You sure you’ll be all right?”
Without even thinking, I said, “Yeah. I’ll probably have the best night’s sleep I’ve had since I got here. I feel pretty good actually.” But I felt like the worst was not yet over between Charlotte and me. I knew that down to my bones.
“If you need anything, call me. And I’ll call you tomorrow.” He kissed me on the forehead, but why wouldn’t he just kiss me full on?
“Good night, Ethan,” I said, and I wondered if I sounded as dreamy to him as I did to myself.
He left and the room felt empty and lonely, even if it did feel nice without Charlotte. Adrenaline was still pumping through my veins when I put on pajamas and crawled into bed. At first, I was worried that Charlotte would come crashing back into our room and pull me out of bed. And then I realized maybe I had been stupid and lost my opportunity with Ethan. Maybe he needed encouragement. Maybe I should have just done the kissing myself, planted my lips on his full ones and cut loose. Or maybe I should have told him I didn’t feel safe and that I wanted him to stay with me. But…being virginal me and wanting to protect my virtue, I didn’t even consider it until later as I lay in my bed, wondering what misstep I had taken.
Aside from that, though, I’d had a great night with Ethan and thought maybe…maybe I might have a chance with him.
Chapter Five
CHARLOTTE MOVED OUT all right, just as she’d promised. She did it over the weekend, and while I lay on my bed studying, listening to one of As I Lay Dying’s albums on my iPod, she didn’t say a word. Sure enough, there was a guy helping her haul he
r stuff out. I smiled at them both, but Charlotte wouldn’t even make eye contact with me. Well, it was her decision, and I wasn’t too upset about it, but I didn’t want to be a total jerk about it. Twice when she was walking through the room, she “accidentally” bumped my things, like a bottle of cologne and a picture, knocking them to the floor, probably hoping they’d break. I felt nervous enough that I asked our RA if the girl had turned in her key to our room, and I didn’t sleep well until I’d verified it. The RA assured me she had moved to another floor with another poor soul to torture.
And in the following weeks, Ethan never even came close to laying a hand on me and his lips didn’t get near mine again. But we did attend basketball games together, eat together, and study together (although we talked more than we studied). We started spending so much time together, I began considering him my best college friend. And if that meant nothing else would ever happen between us, I’d be okay with that. We had an understanding, a common bond, and our friendship was growing stronger every day. I’d be okay with just friends.
I was becoming more and more anxious to see his band Bullet. Ethan talked about it a lot, and I told him I was excited. One afternoon, we were in the library, both logged onto computers because we’d been doing research for papers, and I reminded him about the fact that I suspected Bullet was a name that had already been taken. And while Ethan might have been okay with that, I just wanted him to be aware. So we looked it up, and sure enough, Bullet was taken by more than one band. Ethan was bummed and then started searching for other names for bands having to do with ammo, like Full Metal Jacket (which he didn’t want anyway, because it belonged to a movie), and other things. He was shocked at all of the names that were taken. “Don’t worry, though, Val. I’ll figure something out. Except I don’t know how I’ll tell the guys.” I looked at him, perhaps with a little too much eagerness. He started laughing, then realized his voice was probably too loud. “Yeah, yeah…I’ll introduce you to the guys, okay?”
Bullet Series Box Set Books 1-8 Page 3