by Nora Flite
Lola Cooper was going to be mine.
I just hoped she was ready.
- Chapter Eight -
Lola
I didn't remember falling asleep.
I barely remembered waking up.
The voices outside my room were hushed but frantic, making it clear they were trying to keep their volume low. Cracking my eyes open, I regretted my decision instantly. “Fuck,” I hissed, rolling onto my side. Had someone been punching my skull all night?
Tenderly feeling my way up my neck, I pushed my face into the sweaty blankets. No, not punched. I was tossed around by those asshole security guards.
Digging through the slowly clearing fog in my head was torturous. Alcohol and sneering dickheads were bad enough, but it was something else that invaded my brain.
Drezden.
Even when I first wake up, he's haunting me. Grimacing, I pushed my face into the pillow harder. Is that what I'm dealing with now? Instantly remembering his eyes, his smell, as soon as I regain consciousness?
Could I get no peace from that man?
Someone was shouting. Tugging the pillow off of my eyes, I dared to look around my tiny bunk. Light was struggling to break through the tinted window on the wall beside me. Through it I could see static buildings. It must be early, we haven't started driving yet. I was glad for that. Especially when I sat up and everything spun in my stomach.
Groaning, I held my forehead tight. My whole head felt like it was stuffed with bees. Hanging it between my knees, I traced the bandages on my elbows when they touched my bare thighs.
They reminded me of Drezden's fingers; callused and firm. How he'd held me still while he'd administered the burning medicine to my shallow cuts.
He was so tender, so insistent when he fixed me up. Blushing furiously, my eyes darted to the curtain over my door. I recognized one of the angry voices out there as Drezden himself.
His throaty tone riddled me with goosebumps. Demanding is more fitting word for him than tender. Like when he was on top of me in the bathtub, that... Shaking my head cleared the cobwebs. Stop. Don't think about that right now.
Maybe never.
As if I could help it.
Who could erase a moment like that? His heavy scent in my nose, his hard chest and wicked smile turning my insides into cotton candy—No! Ugh, stop it Lola. Just stop. Scowling at my weakness, I filled my chest with air. It took everything I had to get on my feet and not vomit.
Brittle as an elderly woman, I slid carefully into a tight blue shirt and the same jeans from yesterday. I hadn't packed much for the tour, but I hadn't expected to have to worry about it.
As a sweaty grunt moving gear for my brother's band, my clothes didn't matter.
As the new guitarist for the famous Four and a Half Headstones, well... Maybe I can get Brenda to pick me up something. Borrowing from her would be no joke; the manager wore things I'd never think about trying on. Her heels could murder me.
Sliding the curtain aside, I strained to listen to the still ongoing argument. It was hard to see much from my angle. Crisp and clean, Brenda's voice rang like a bell. “—it's the easiest way!” she cried, sounding like she was stomping in place. “Last night wouldn't have happened if they knew who she was, let me put her face out there!”
“The problem,” Drezden growled, “Is you hiring assholes who don't know how to do their job. Even if she had been some drunken fangirl, they roughed her up! That's not fucking acceptable!”
The rawness in his voice was decadent. It hit at a place inside of me so primal that I shut my eyes and bit my lip. There was no time to argue with myself over my inappropriate reactions. They were talking about last night. About me.
Shoving into the hall, I stared at the front of the tour bus. Sunlight streamed through the open roof window, turning Brenda's hair into fiery gold. She was sitting on a leather seat, one heel occasionally kicking the base of the table. Her eyes, thick with makeup, jumped to me.
With his arms in a tight pretzel, Drezden's gaze widened. I didn't know what was glinting in his green depths, only that it set my skin aflame. Quickly he hid behind his indifferent squint. The sun highlighted every muscle on his bare shoulders, the black tank-top exposing him deliciously.
They both watched me, but Brenda spoke first. “Lola! You're awake, good. You can answer this for yourself—”
“She isn't doing it!” Drezden snapped, nostrils flaring.
“I'm not doing what?” My voice was scratchy. Clearing it, wishing for some water—and a toothbrush—I eyed them both warily. “Tell me what's going on.”
Brenda smoothed her long crimson hair. “Drez told me about last night.” My cheeks went pink as I wondered how much the singer had actually admitted to. “Don't worry,” she said suddenly, mistaking the source of my flash of panic. “No one got any photos or anything. Plus, I fired the assholes involved. We'll have new guys for the next stop, but...”
Leaning off the wall, Drezden took a step my way. “She wants you to do a photo shoot before the next show.”
“Oh!” Blinking at his sour frown, I looked to Brenda for an explanation. “And why is that a bad thing?” I'd never done a photo shoot before. Certainly it couldn't be that hard, let alone worth arguing over.
With a smug look at Drez, the red-head motioned me towards her. Wordlessly, I sat down on the other seat. “Lola, it's not a bad thing at all. It'll get your name out there, your face, and hype you up to the fans of the band. Clarifying that Johnny Muse is gone, you're in, it's all important. Plus, things like last night won't be an issue anymore.”
Drezden's palm came down, slapping the table between us. Jumping, I grabbed at my chest, willing my heart to calm down. “It's not the photo shoot that's the problem! It's the time it will take away from practice! Brenda, we have one fucking day before the show in Colorado, we need every minute we have to make sure Lola is ready.”
“And I told you,” she huffed, “That I can call ahead and squeeze in a chunk of time tonight! Schedule around it, it'll just be an hour at most.”
“An hour to take photos, yeah. What about the hour to set up the location, then the hour to prep her?”
Brenda rolled her eyes, lips going white.
Though my heart was still struggling to climb into my mouth, I looked up at Drezden. “Why can't we just do the shoot here on the bus? Then we won't lose all the time stopping and setting up or whatever.”
Reaching across the table, Brenda clasped my hands in hers. “Yes! That's perfect! I can have the photographer climb on our bus, along with the makeup and wardrobe, then you won't even need to stop practicing until they're ready for you! When we're done, you can go right back to the music while they pack up and hop out into the car that will follow us! Lola, you're a genius!”
I didn't miss the wink she gave Drezden, nor the harsh scowl he answered with. His eyes, normally so green, were dark as a storm when he glared at me. “Fine. Just do whatever you have to but make sure last night never happens again.”
“Of course I will.” She wrinkled her nose. “Give me some credit, I've kept things going for you this far.” Rising out of the seat, she brushed past the tall singer and dug her phone out. “I'll make some calls. We'll be on the road in thirty.”
The moment Brenda left the bus, Drezden became a black hole. Alone with him, my world shrank to a pinprick. His palms touched the table; mine twitched underneath on my thighs. “You shouldn't encourage her. Brenda gets off on every little win over me. She's ruthless.”
My tongue felt heavy when I spoke. “She's right, though. Last night happened because the security had no clue who I was.”
Studying me under lowered eyebrows, Drezden didn't move an inch. “Last night happened because we gave weak people a taste of power. They ran with it, it controlled them.”
He was losing me. “What does that—”
“Think about it!” His voice was as good as a slap; I flinched. “Just because they thought you were some drunken slut looking for
a ride—” My throat tightened painfully. “—doesn't excuse what they did! Those assholes should have escorted you away. Why did they need to go as far as they did?”
Nail marks formed in my palms. It took a concentrated effort to calm the muscles in my forearms. “You're partly right.” Drezden tucked his chin, confusion blooming. “They went too far, yeah. My cuts and pride will have to agree. But honestly? If they had just tried to escort me away, it would have turned into a fight anyway. I wouldn't have just gone away, I wanted to get inside.”
Drezden considered me, then cracked a smile that melted the strength from my body. “You'd have fought them instead of just going and finding Colt or Porter or even Brenda?”
His honest surprise told me how little he really knew me. How could he know? My life isn't written on a CD like his is. There's no way for him to understand what I've had done to me... and what I've done. Memories of the asphalt behind my middle school surfaced. Fists that pummeled, my mouth full of blood.
“It doesn't matter," I said. Scrunching my shoulders to my ears, I started to slide from the seat. “You said you wanted to practice. Let's begin.”
“You should eat first.” Sighing in exasperation, he twisted to face the line of cupboards high on the bus wall. “I wish we had more, we haven't stocked up in a while. I'll remind Brenda. Think you can stomach some plain bagels?”
In the filtered sunlight through the open roof, I watched the back of his head. Then without meaning to, my eyes drifted down his spine. The rows of muscles barely hidden by his tight shirt were like train tracks on a course to my destruction. He was... beautiful. Why did someone so intimidating have to be so easy on the eyes?
I said, “Bagels are fine, sure.”
Together we sat at the small table, eating our stale breakfast. It was oddly normal. I didn't remember the last time I'd eaten so casually with anyone, not even my brother. Life was always so busy.
Picking apart the bagel, I stared at Drezden from the corner of my eye. It was a face I'd seen so many times in magazines or on blogs, but in person, it served to remind me of where I was. I hadn't gotten over how, just yesterday morning, I'd woken up with a tight neck on the hard seat of my brother's busted up tour bus.
And now I was riding in luxury.
The bite of bagel was dry in my mouth. I'd inevitably found my mind wandering to last night. Drezden, the bathroom, the tub... I reached over, itching at the bandage on my elbow.
Craning his neck, his hard green eyes locked onto what I'd just done. “Do they hurt today?”
Tingles rolled up my face, causing me to flush. Taking a swig from the bottle of water he'd found for me, I wiped my mouth, stalling. “No, they're—I'm fine. Don't worry about it. I'm tougher than you think.”
“I think,” he whispered, “That we went over that last night.” His slow smirk was as tangible as fingers running over my thighs.
Squeezing my knees together, I fought down a wave of—what? Lust, fear, why can't I tell the difference? “Could we not talk about that?”
“Which part?”
“All the parts,” I muttered. Tossing the rest of my bagel in the trash, I glanced towards the back of the bus.
Drezden said, “If you're worried about the band finding out about you throwing up outside, don't be. Brenda won't say anything to them.”
Sucking in a slow breath hardly calmed me at all. “I know. I'm not worried about that. I'm thinking about... the aftermath.” Even bringing up the incident in the tub was making my skull throb.
Other parts of me, too.
Something touched my ankle under the table. It took me a second to realize the hard material was Drezden's boot. “What about the aftermath?” he asked.
My poker face was the worst. Widening my eyes ‘til they ached, I watched him without blinking. How could he look so smug? Did he not care if anyone found out about us rubbing our junk together? I'd been around enough band drama to know that shit like last night never ended well. It only took one rumor—or one reality—to tarnish a name.
This band is my opportunity. No way I'll risk that. I don't even fucking know what I'd be risking it for—a night with Drez, or more?
His eyes were a slithering world of dark promises. “Listen,” I started to say.
He pulled his foot away. It left me emptier somehow. “Lola, I'm not a fucking moron.” There, that was the harsh side of the singer I was used to. It wasn't comforting, but it left me feeling less of a mushy mess. “I'm not going to say anything to Porter or Colt, or anyone.”
The flutter in my heart died. His words were supposed to reassure me. Instead, they left me stiff and aching with a frustration I couldn't express. He thinks that what happened is something that needs to be hidden. He's right. Why does that hurt to hear?
Squeezing my water bottle, I jumped into the aisle. “Then we're on the same page. Fine. I need to call my brother.” Not giving him a chance to argue, I trotted down the bus steps and into the early morning air.
I did need to talk to Sean, but I hadn't been planning on doing it now. I just needed to escape from Drezden and his cloying existence.
The parking lot of the Griffin was packed with cars. Finding Barbed Fire's bus didn't take me that long. Debating calling him first, I instead just clomped up to the door and pushed. It opened easily, revealing Shark slumped over at the wheel. He was startled at the sight of me. “Lola! You scared me, shit!”
“Sorry.” His genuine shock made me smile. A tug of sad nostalgia hit me. No, it's too soon for that. “Is my brother in here?”
“Actually,” a voice said behind me. Spinning, I found myself eye to eye with Sean. He wore a gentle smile, a tray of coffee cups in his hands. “I went to get drinks for the guys. I got an extra, want it?”
Taking the cup, I felt the heat sinking through the cardboard sleeve. “Thanks. I thought we'd catch up before everyone takes off for the day.”
Sean lifted the tray, shoving it at Shark. He took it with confusion. “Hand those out,” he explained. “I'm going for a walk with Lola.”
****
We strolled along the parking lot, then up the road. It was reckless to go too far. We could be left behind-as unlikely as that was. In wordless agreement, we walked in circles, repeating the same steps around the area. “So you're enjoying it?” he asked, sipping from his cup.
I held my coffee close, sniffing the bitter scent. “Well, most of it.” Sean slowed, lifting an eyebrow. I went on at his silent prompt. “The music is coming along. They seem to trust I can perform tomorrow. It's just...” How did I phrase this? “Drezden is sort of intense.”
That was putting it mildly.
“Intense how?”
My insides rocked and rolled. “I don't know. When we play together, his singing is overwhelming.” I thought about his fingers on me, his rough jeans grinding, and I shivered.
Sean kicked a rock, watching it skid over the road. “Don't be afraid of Drezden Halifax. He's the kind of guy you should try to get closer to. He can take you places, tell you things, teach you things.”
My feet froze. I stopped walking, staring at Sean. “How do you mean?”
His smile was tight. “A guy like him has a poet's heart. It's why he's so good at what he does. You should go ahead and try to steal some of that.”
Steal some of Drezden Halifax. It was an absurd thought.
He was the guy who was trying to fucking steal parts of me.
It was impossible to tell Sean that, though. “Alright. I'll keep that in mind.”
“You sure you're alright, Lola?” Turning, my brother studied me with new eyes.
I pushed my shoulders into my ears. Just trying to handle a guy who scares me while also turning my insides into Jello, I thought sarcastically. Rubbing my elbows self-consciously, I was glad my injuries were hidden. “I'm fine. I should get back though, Brenda said—” I trailed off. Mentioning Brenda had forced something else up. A piece I'd left drowning in alcohol last night. “Hey. Sean?”
He tilted his head, waiting.
In my hands, the coffee felt colder. “How come you never told me that you auditioned for Drez's band years ago?”
I knew my brother very well. The instant his face fell, I was sure something was wrong. “Oh. That.”
“Sean, talk to me. Why hide that from me?
Fiddling with his neck, he eyed the sky. “Lola, that was a long time ago. You had... other things to worry about. It was a dumb audition.”
A dumb audition that I nailed yesterday. What he'd said, though, it made me think. He was right that two years ago I was busy with some important things. Helplessly, my fingers wandered to the inside of my right arm. Nails itched at where the tattoo hid. “You didn't tell me because you... what? Didn't want to worry me?”
“I didn't want to depress you more, yeah.” His tongue held an edge. “Fucking—Lola, listen. Two years ago things were hectic. But you're fine now, and I'm fine now. We've both dealt with our demons. The only thing that matters right now is literally right now.”
Inside, I wanted to agree. No one wants to be suspicious of their own sibling. “Okay. Okay, don't worry. It's not important anymore.”
His face smoothed with relief. “Good. Now, what were you going to say before that?”
"Brenda scheduled a photo shoot today. I guess she'll try to make me look fancy.”
"Oh la la," he chuckled.
Grinning, I walked backwards towards the bus with a wave. "I should go, we'll talk later!" Cradling my coffee, I jogged back to the bus. I'd hoped that speaking with Sean would clear my head, but it had only left me more lost.
He was hiding something.
But what... and why?
I jumped up the stairs and into the bus. Inside, I found Drezden and Porter standing in the aisle. The bassist grinned, showing every tooth in his mouth. “You look like you're ready for some practice!"
Chugging my coffee, I nodded. "I'm definitely ready." Music would heal my soul, if anything could.
“Fantastic!" Porter laughed. "Colt drank enough that there's no way he doesn't have a huge fucking hangover.” His arm draped over my shoulders, pulling me close. “How about,” he chuckled in my ear, “We wake him up in style?”