Daisy and the Front Man (Entangled Crush) (Backstage Pass)

by Purdy, Rebekah L.

  “All right.” He held up his hands. “But keep your phone on you.”

  Daisy headed for the door. “I’ll be down in a few minutes; I just need to grab my purse.”

  Trevin followed after her. “I’ll meet you by the back door.”

  “Greaaaat.” She gave him a giant fake smile. “Can’t wait.”

  “You’re welcome, by the way,” he said.

  “For what?” She stiffened, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the door handle.

  “For springing you—if it wasn’t for me, you’d be stuck here all day.” With that, he gave her a wave and rushed upstairs to change.

  As Trevin was walking into his suite, his phone buzzed with a message. He pulled it from his pocket and swiped the screen to the side to find a text from his sister Caroline.

  Hey big bro where r u today?

  Trevin typed back: We r in Atlanta

  So what r u doing?

  Getting ready 2 go out with our bodyguard’s daughter

  Wait, what? You have a girlfriend? How did I not know this?

  No. Definitely not a girlfriend, just hanging out with her

  I’m getting ready 2 go drive the tractor around, not as glamorous as being famous. Just wanted to say hi and I miss u

  Miss u 2

  Trevin sighed. It was hard being on the road without his family. Especially Caroline. They’d always been close growing up. So only being able to see her a couple times a year sucked. He pulled up a picture of his family and stared at it. He had no idea when he’d get home next. Trying not to get bummed out, he closed out of the photo app and slipped his phone into his pocket, then finished getting ready. He had a bet to win.

  …

  Oh. My. God. Why the hell had her dad said Trevin could go with her? As if her vacation wasn’t going to be torturous enough without rubbing him in her face on a constant basis. Ahh, he always had that mischievous grin—that cocky smile he probably used to melt girls into incoherent puddles of mush. But not her. His charm wasn’t going to bring her down that easily.

  Take a deep breath. Everything will be fine. You can start laying the groundwork for Project Payback.

  Daisy went into her hotel room and snagged the purse she’d made out of a pair of old jeans and a Star Wars T-shirt. She shoved her phone into the pocket, threw on some sunscreen, and then made her way downstairs to wait for him.

  A few minutes later, a man with chin-length blond hair and a beanie cap came over to stand by her.

  “You ready to go?”

  Daisy did a double take and snorted. “Trevin? You’re seriously gonna wear that outside?”

  He chuckled. “Yep.”

  “It’s like ninety degrees out. I don’t think that whole disguise is necessary.”

  “Trust me, it is if we want to walk around unnoticed.”

  “Or maybe you should get over yourself—because you’re really not that big of a deal.” Daisy pushed outside, where she was instantly met by the hot sticky air. They walked through the back lot, until they reached the sidewalk. Traffic breezed by, but even from here, she noticed the crowd standing at the front of the hotel in hopes of getting a glance at Seconds to Juliet. Daisy remembered a time when that used to be her. A screaming, excitable fan who’d do anything to meet them.

  They stopped at the crosswalk, and Trevin adjusted his hat, staring down at the ground. As soon as the little man popped up on the sign, he hurried across.

  “So where are we going?” Trevin slowed his pace once they reached the other side.

  “There’s a vintage clothes shop a couple blocks up I want to stop at.”

  “You buy clothes other people have worn?” He wrinkled his nose. “I mean, you don’t know whose sweaty body touched it last.”

  “And yet you have no problem with girls giving you their panties.” Ugh! This just drove the point home that he was a stuck-up rich kid.

  “Funny.” His face turned crimson.

  Wow, did he just blush? It was kind of cute and unexpected. Her stomach did a somersault. “Well, it’s true. Besides, some people only wear an outfit once or not at all and just donate it.”

  “So, enlighten me,” Trevin said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

  “Um—okay?”

  “Enlighten me on this deep-rooted hatred you have for me.”

  Daisy stopped walking and stared at him. “You honestly don’t remember, do you?” Her face reflected back at her from his sunglasses.

  “Remember what? If I’ve done something to offend you, then I’m sorry. Sometimes my sarcasm is lost on people.”

  She started to walk again. “Well, when you can remember, I’d love to talk.”

  “Did I not sign an autograph or something?”

  “Holy shit, you honestly think I’d be pissed about an autograph?” She whipped around to face him. “You really are full of yourself.”

  “Then tell me what I did so we can get past this.”

  Daisy glowered. Right. If he really wanted to fix things he could figure it out on his own. He might’ve forgotten about it, but she never would. The feeling she had standing there on her porch, waiting for him. The constant razzings. He had no idea how much his one decision had changed everything. Made her life a living hell at school. She started to walk again, ignoring him until they arrived at Sorcha’s Sequins.

  They both reached for the door handle at the same time and Trevin’s fingers brushed against hers. Her skin tingled as they both stood there. Heat she hadn’t expected swirled inside. She shot him a quick look, trying not to notice the muscles straining against his T-shirt. She swallowed hard and jerked her hand back.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  A bell rang as Trevin opened the door for her, letting her go in first. Maybe he isn’t a complete Neanderthal after all. She attempted to pass by him without her body brushing against his. She didn’t need any more reactions to him.

  Turning her focus back to the store, she sighed. Daisy was in heaven—vintage clothes everywhere. On mannequins, hanging on racks, folded into neat stacks. She started looking through some bohemian skirts, and a long, flowy blue one caught her eye. She held it up to herself and glanced in the mirror, only to find Trevin watching her from behind his shades. Daisy sorted through several things, until a beautiful black eyelet dress caught her attention. It had kind of a forties or fifties look about it.

  She held it against her, trying not to stare at the price tag.

  “You should try that one on,” a saleslady said, coming up next to her. “We’ve got dressing rooms in the back.” She gestured to the far wall.

  Daisy turned to find Trevin following after her. “Can you hold my purse while I try this on?”

  “Sure.”

  Daisy handed it to him, then ambled to the changing room, where she flung off her shorts and T-shirt and shimmied into the black dress. This was so weird, having a superstar shopping in a used clothing store with her. And he was waiting for her on the other side of the partition. Could he see her legs beneath the short door? What if she wanted to try on a bathing suit or something? There was no way she’d be able to do it now. Not with him watching her.

  She reached behind her to do up the dress’s zipper, but she could only get it partway. Damn. She’d either have to ask Trevin for help or hope her arms would grow longer. She inched the door open. Her face and neck grew hot. This was so embarrassing; she didn’t want to bother him.

  “C-can you please zip me the rest of the way?”

  Trevin set her purse down and slid off his sunglasses, while she turned around. His fingers brushed her back as he eased the zipper up, and she swallowed hard. Don’t you dare react to him. She heard a deep intake of breath and realized maybe she wasn’t the only one having a reaction. She went still, trying to ignore the trail of tingling skin his touch left behind, kind of like a comet gliding through the sky. Daisy chewed her lip, trying hard not to notice how quick her pulse had gotten or the fact that her palms were slick with sweat. No. No. No. Y
ou can’t let him get under your skin. You can’t let him know his touch is driving you crazy.

  She quickly pulled away, smoothed down the dress, then looked in the mirror. It fit her perfectly. The material was fitted at her chest down to her waist then poofed out at the hips.

  She glanced at the price tag and cringed. One hundred and twenty bucks. Crap. Did she really want to spend that much? She had the rest of the summer to go, and her mom had only given her a small amount of spending money.

  “I think you should get it,” Trevin said from beside her.

  She raised her eyes until they met his. “I don’t know. It’s kind of expensive.”

  “Do you like it?”

  She smiled. “Yeah.”

  “Then get it.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment, but inside she knew she didn’t feel right putting so much money into a dress.

  “I’d better not. I have to make sure my money lasts the entire summer and I’m literally on my first full day here.”

  “Then let me get it for you.” Trevin reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet.

  She stiffened. “No. Absolutely not. I don’t want to owe you anything.”

  He frowned. “You wouldn’t owe me. I have the money; it’s not a big deal.”

  Not a big deal. Of course it wasn’t a big deal for him. He had millions of dollars to toss around. “No. I’m good. Thanks.”

  Daisy slammed the door shut and frantically changed back into her other clothes. Maybe letting him tag along had been a bad idea. When she came out, she hung the dress back on the rack, then joined Trevin where he stood talking to the saleslady.

  “If you change your mind about the dress, just come on back,” she said.

  “Thanks, I will.” But Daisy knew she couldn’t afford it. Instead, she left the store and headed toward the record shop.

  Music blasted through the store as they went inside, the familiar fifties tunes still epic after all this time. Daisy grinned, staring at the old concert pictures and posters plastered on the store walls. She immediately loved this place. The scent of vinyl. It reeked of good music.

  “Wow, this place is awesome.” Trevin moved forward and began to thumb through some albums.

  With a contented sigh, she made her way across the black and white checkerboard floor to one of the racks marked with the letter J to begin her search. After a few minutes she found the record she was looking for and made her way over to one of the players set up. She pulled her grandpa’s band’s record from its protective case, then slid it on the player, placing the needle against the surface of the large black disk. She loved the way the LPs felt when she put one on the turntable. The crackling sound it made when the music first started. She clung to the nostalgia of the songs and the time periods they came from. Back when music meant something and wasn’t just a bunch of “wannabe boy bands” who didn’t have a creative bone in their bodies. A smooth doo-wop sound filled the air. Slim’s voice came on, followed by Grandpa’s.

  Listening to them sing was like coming home. The song conjured memories of her grandpa, who’d introduced her to “oldies.” In particular, his old band, Jive Times Five. He’d been the one to give Daisy her first album and record player. He’d let her tag along when his band had its reunion tour two years ago, too. Then he’d passed away.

  It was hard to believe he’d been gone for almost a year. A whole year without him in her life. Without his smile. His hugs. She knew it wasn’t fair to think, but she felt like he’d left her. Just like her dad. Well, it was different—but the guys in her life, they never stuck around.

  “Whoa, who’s this?” Trevin came up beside her, his sunglasses perched on top of his head.

  “Jive Times Five,” Daisy said.

  “They’re really good. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of them before.” He grabbed the cardboard case from her and looked at the cover. He picked up the harmony part and hummed along.

  Daisy watched him for a moment, the way his eyes closed as he listened—like he really heard the lyrics and got the meaning of the song. “This was my grandpa’s band,” she whispered.

  His lids opened. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I like it. I think I’ll buy it—or I mean, if you were gonna get it, I’ll let you…”

  “No—I have it at home. Go ahead.” It seemed surreal that Trevin Jacobs liked her grandpa’s music. That for a brief moment, he was stepping into her world—enjoying music from the one person she’d loved most in the world. Her chest tightened, and she took a deep breath.

  “So does your grandpa live in Michigan with you?” Trevin took money out of his wallet and went up to pay at the register.

  Daisy’s throat thickened as she followed behind him. “Um—no, he passed away last year.”

  “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “It’s fine.” Her voice cracked. Even though he’d been gone for almost a year, talking about him in past tense never got any easier.

  Trevin stared at her for long moments, his eyes softening. “So will you let me treat you to a Frappuccino?”

  “Actually, I can buy my own,” she said as they headed out the door. Damn it! Why did he keep throwing his money in her face? She’d been secretly thrilled when he’d bought her grandpa’s album, but then he had to go and ruin it by doing this.

  “I don’t mind paying for stuff.”

  “And I don’t like people who flaunt their money.” She glowered, noticing a group of girls heading their way. Time to put a stop to this day out. For a while, she’d almost been able to forget what he’d done to her. But she needed to get refocused. She gave a mock scream. “Oh my gosh, hold still, there’s a bee flying around your head.” Daisy pretended to swat at something, knocking Trevin’s disguise away.

  Just then, the group of girls started to squeal.

  “It’s Trevin Jacobs!” One of them pointed, hopping up and down.

  The mob descended upon them like a swarm of locusts.

  “Shit, run.” Trevin grabbed her arm, tugging her down the sidewalk.

  “I’m sorry,” she called out to him. “I didn’t mean to do that.” But deep down, she was enjoying the hell out of this moment.

  “It’s fine, but we need to outrun these girls.” He glanced over his shoulder, and Daisy looked to see that the mob had multiplied like bunnies in heat.

  They cut through a parking lot, heading toward a construction area. Already her lungs burned. Damn, she was out of shape. Maybe deciding to sic the fans on Trevin hadn’t been the best thought out plan she could’ve come up with.

  Trevin tugged her behind some orange cones, which had been laid out to warn people about the wet cement. They jumped through it, the thick concoction spraying across their legs like mud and squishing between her toes.

  “I hope this comes off,” Daisy said, wondering if her legs would stiffen and make her trip.

  “I think that’s the least of our worries if those girls catch us.” He jerked her out of the cement and led her around a pickup truck to where a port-a-john stood toward the back of the work zone. “Quick, in here.”

  “Are you crazy? We’ll be trapped.”

  “Not if they don’t see us. Just be quiet and come on.”

  Trevin opened the flimsy plastic door and they slipped inside, locking the door behind them. The stench overwhelmed her. Already her stomach churned. It was like a million degrees in there. She glanced at the toilet cover, which was up, revealing everyone’s business. Squashed against Trevin, she reached forward and shut the lid. She might have to smell it, but she didn’t want to see it. She stifled a gasp as her chest slid against his and her legs trembled beneath her. They were too close together. No matter which way they moved, some part of him touched some part of her. And, revenge plan or not, Trevin Jacobs was hot. She wet her lips and attempted to pull back, which only made his thigh brush against her midsection.

  “They went this way,” a girl’s voice carried in from outsi
de.

  “Look, I think they stepped in the cement. We’re getting close.”

  “Follow the trail.”

  Trevin’s eyes met hers and he put his finger to his lips as if to tell her to be quiet. Right then, Daisy sneezed.

  “In the port-a-john.”

  “Trevin!” They pounded on the outside, shaking it.

  “Oh God, they’re going to tip us over.” Daisy tried to brace herself on the edges.

  “Hold on.” He grabbed his phone from his pocket. “Hey, DeMarcus—I need help. Can you send someone out to the construction site on Eighth Street? Um—I’m trapped in an outhouse, with a bunch of screaming fans outside.” He frowned. “Well, I can’t exactly go anywhere at the moment. Just hurry.”

  The plastic bathroom moved back and forth as the girls pushed on it. They teetered backward and Daisy knew then, they were in trouble. With a squeal, she put her arms out to catch herself, but the port-a-john tipped onto its back, she and Trevin toppling against the far wall as the stuff inside the toilet splashed.

  She screeched. Oh. My. God. This was the grossest thing that’d ever happened to her. “We need to get out of here!”

  Her eyes met his and he grinned. “Well, this is definitely a first.”

  Her lips twitched and before she knew it, Daisy busted up laughing. “Yeah, I have to say I’ve never enjoyed this kind of experience before.”

  Trevin managed to push to his feet, standing on the ridge with the toilet on it. He shoved the door open like it was a hatch on a submarine. He climbed out, still holding the record he’d purchased. Thank God it was in a plastic bag.

  He then reached back down to pull her out. “Are you okay?”

  She tried to compose herself as he brought her up to stand next to him on the tipped over bathroom. “Am I all right?”

  “Yeah.” His T-shirt was wet, and she knew it definitely wasn’t sweat.

  Girls reached up, screaming and trying to touch Trevin’s legs and shoes as he scooted closer to Daisy.

  Although she wanted to barf, she giggled again. “Well, other than being covered in shit, I think I’m doing okay. Please tell me you don’t take all the girls you meet to places like this?”