Sing With Me: A With Me In Seattle Universe Novel

by Anna Edwards

  Liam picks a dishcloth up from by the sink and throws it at Austin. “Don’t call me a jackass.”

  “What do you prefer, smell fungus?” Austin catches the cloth and flings it back.

  “What the fuck?” Liam grabs the cloth, wets it under the faucet, and launches it again at Austin.

  “It means a stupid and irritating person. Suits you well.”

  Austin ducks out of the way of the cloth, and my eyes go wide as it sails through the air and smacks straight into the face of a woman who owns the best fucking legs I’ve ever seen. She’s also wearing the shortest skirt I’ve ever seen, and it wraps around her curves like a glove. Holy Fuck, my dick is getting hard, and I can’t even see her face, because she’s currently got a wet cloth covering it.

  When she does remove the cloth, despite the shocked look on her face, I can see right away she’s beautiful. Plump lips, sapphire colored blue eyes, and blonde hair pulled back into a messy bun. It’s only then I notice the small suitcase in her hand and Fred standing behind her.

  Oh, shit!

  We’re screwed.

  “I’m so sorry.” Liam scrambles forward and takes the cloth from her. “We were messing around. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  She laughs. “It’ll take a lot more than a wet dishcloth to hurt me.”

  Fred steps past them both, and I give him a look threatening retribution for what I’m guessing he’s about to tell us. I’m not stupid—the woman is carrying a suitcase. Our manager ignores me and focuses on Cameron who’s now sat up to see what all the excitement’s about.

  “Gentlemen, I’d like to introduce you to Miss Danson, Zoey. She’s your publicist for the tour.”

  “She’s a chick, though?” Austin states the obvious.

  “I’m a female not a chick. Chicks are baby birds, and I’m definitely Homo sapiens,” Zoey informs him and places her case down on the ground.

  “You’re a lesbian, cool. Can we watch when you get off with someone?” Liam excitedly picks up her suitcase and starts to roll it to the back of the bus.

  Zoey frowns, a look of mystification on her face as she tries to figure out how Liam has managed to come to the conclusion she’s a lesbian.

  Fred taps her on the shoulder and shakes his head.

  “It’s the noise of the drums—they’ve damaged his brain cells.”

  Zoey nods.

  Liam returns and asks again, “So, can we watch you?”

  Zoey’s mouth moves like she’s trying to figure out how to answer him. Her lips are a perfect natural red. I bet they’d look stunning, swollen and plump, wrapped around my dick.

  Jesus, what am I thinking? This woman can’t travel with us.

  “I’m afraid, Mr. Romero, I’m here to do a job. Entertaining women for your pleasure will not be part of that.”

  “Damn, she’s as boring as Freddie,” Liam sulks and pushes Cameron’s feet out of the way to sit down.

  “I can assure you she’ll be a lot more fun to travel with than me,” Fred replies as he too finds his own space on the seating.

  It’s only Zoey and me left standing now. She nibbles on her lip, looking up at me from under her long black eyelashes. I step forward, puffing myself up to my full imposing height and hold my hand out for her to shake it—her palm looks tiny in mine.

  “Miss Danson, I’m afraid there’s been a mistake. When we agreed to have a publicist on tour, we were not made aware you were female. For your comfort and ours, I don’t think it’ll work with you on the same bus as us. You’re welcome to travel on the other one if you still want to continue with the job, but not on ours.”

  “Tate!” Fred gets to his feet and slams his hand down on the table. “We’ve already discussed this.”

  “And you tricked us. We’re four young men. This will be no place for your little apprentice. Come on, Liam’s already asked to watch her have sex with another woman. That’s my final decision on the matter, Fred. She travels on the other bus, or she doesn’t come at all.”

  “You don’t get to have the final decision on the matter,” Zoey answers me back as I start to make my way to where Liam has dumped her suitcase. I stop and turn back to face her, my arms folded across my chest, daring her to challenge me. “If what I’m hearing from your mouth is an indication of your opinion on women and our worth, then I think you truly do need me here with you, Mr. Gordon. You and your fellow band members may be the stars of this outfit, but several people are working around you to make sure you remain popular. I’m damn good at my job, and I’ve been instructed to stay with you in this bus to ensure nothing slips out that shouldn’t. Given that Mr. Romero has already asked to be allowed to watch me have sex, all puns are intended with my use of the words ‘slips out’. Now, I suggest you all put it to a vote as to whether I stay on this bus or the other. To be honest, as things stand, I’d rather have my own bus. The thought of staying with a bunch of oversexed, pretentious, stuck up rock stars is not high on my to-do list. The roadies may have a bad reputation for disreputable behavior, but at least they all gave me a warm welcome and didn’t make instant judgements about me based on the fact I’ve got a vagina rather than a dick.”

  “Boom!” Cameron shouts out as he and Liam high five each other. I glare at them. “Sorry, Tate, but she handed it to you on a plate there, man.”

  “I vote she stays on here,” Liam adds, and I let out a low gravelly growl from the back of my throat.

  I don’t want this woman on the bus. She’ll cause me all kinds of problems. I can already feel her affecting me. She only has to look my way, and I want her. I’m a complete idiot.

  “I agree,” Austin adds and looks up at Zoey. “You any good at Fortnite?”

  “I’m afraid I’ve never played it before, but I’m happy for you to teach me.”

  “She stays.” Austin casts his vote.

  “What about women? Can we bring them back here?” Cameron leans forward, resting his elbows on the table.

  “I expect you to behave on this tour in the same way you normally would. The only difference is that I’ll be here in the background, looking after you. You don’t even have to talk to me unless you want to. I can do my job perfectly well by myself without any assistance.” Zoey raises an eyebrow at me, still testing me. My nostrils flare in return.

  “So if you come back to the bus and Liam’s on the couch with his dick in a girl’s pussy, and she’s sucking me off, you won’t be disgusted?” Cameron asks.

  “I’ll walk around you to my bed and put headphones on, so I don’t have to listen to the noise. The only thing I would ask is you ensure the couch is cleaned the next day. I’d rather not have to sit on the wet spot when eating my cereal.”

  “Sorry, Tate.” Cameron lays back down. “You’re outvoted. She stays because I like her. Fred, you better hire a cleaner at each stop, though.”

  I shake my head. I’m still not happy with this.

  “Fine, have it your way, all of you. I bet she doesn’t even last a week.” Without another word, I storm to the back of the bus and into my bedroom, slamming the door shut behind me and putting on my headphones.

  I don’t like this one bit—a cold chill comes over me. Zoey Danson is the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen, but there’s a darkness within her, sitting behind her eyes, and that’s what scares me the most. She has it, my sister had it, and so do I. If Saving Tate finishes this tour in one piece, it’s going to be a miracle.

  Chapter 5

  Zoey

  #SanFranciscoBaby

  Well, that went well. Tate Gordon is the biggest ass on the planet. He’s spent the entire thirteen-hour journey to our first location in San Francisco, hiding away in the bedroom at the back of the bus. Cameron, Liam, and Austin are really cool, though. They seem to have embraced me, and I couldn’t be happier.

  Austin even made good on his promise to show me how to play Fortnite. I wasn’t great at it, but he seemed to enjoy being my protector. I’m nervous of causing a rift between the band by being
here. I know I need to try harder with Tate when he does finally reappear.

  I felt a strange energy coming off him as he watched me during the confrontation. He’s stunningly handsome. The pictures don’t do him justice. With his tattoo sleeve on his left arm, the piercing in his eyebrow, and his muscular physique, he’s definitely easy on the eye. I also love the way he wears his hair, short at the side and long on top. It wasn’t colored tonight, but I know he sometimes chooses a different color for concerts or photo shoots. It’s a shame his personality doesn’t match the beauty on the outside.

  I hope he’s not going to be a problem—I really need this job, especially after spending the advance on paying off bills rather than buying a full new wardrobe as intended. I’ve got one new suit that I wore for getting on the bus because I knew Fred would be there. Other than that, I’m stuck with my usual clothes. At least I know my mom will be sorted for a few months, and she’ll even have someone to come in and check on her daily. It’s a big relief. Finally, I can let my hair down and enjoy myself a bit.

  “We’re here,” the driver announces and pulls the bus into a parking space.

  Cameron and Liam have been dozing on the couch while I was doing my daily check of the press. I didn’t get much sleep last night, having left Seattle at four a.m. The band has a concert in a few hours, so it will be all go until then. It’s going to be a long time until I can crawl back into the bunk I’ve been assigned.

  “Thank God, I need to stretch my legs.” Cameron jumps up and gingerly walks toward the door. He opens it, and a cold air hits us. “Frigging hell, it’s snowing.”

  “Shut the door! It’s cold,” Austin complains as he walks from the sleeping area with only his underwear on.

  I look away. These men are all sexy as hell—it’s one of the things I’m going to find the hardest being on this bus. I’ll be permanently in heat.

  “Put some clothes on, then,” Liam teases as he joins Cameron at the door.

  They leave the bus, and I follow them. Making my way down the steps, I take a good look around. We’re parked outside a massive stadium, but there isn’t much of historical or tourist interest to see. I’ve never left Seattle before. This is the farthest I’ve been from home, even though it’s just a few hours down the road. I know it seems funny, but the air smells different here and the noises. I’m definitely not in my home city anymore, and it’s exciting.

  “Still here?” Tate descends the steps and throws an insult my way.

  “Well, you were hiding away like a sulking toddler for the entire journey. I did get to know your bandmates better, though. They’re great fun to be with. Shame I can’t say the same about you.”

  He ignores me and keeps walking toward the entrance of the venue. At the last minute, he turns and holds his middle finger up at me.

  Such a charming man—I’ll have my work cut out with him.

  Austin steps from the bus next. “He’ll come around. Tate’s always cranky before the first show. He’s scared it’ll all go wrong.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ve got thick skin. I’ve dealt with worse insults than Tate Gordon can throw at me.”

  “There’s a good lass.” Austin disappears off into the venue as well.

  I go back into the bus to change for the concert tonight. I don’t really want to wear a smart suit for it. I need to find an outfit that combines the style expected of the band’s publicist along with the casual look of a rock fan. Eventually, I choose a pair of faded blue jeans and a black t-shirt studded with mini diamanté. It doesn’t scream I’m loaded with money and it’s not overly sexy, especially as the jeans are more eighties in style than tight in all the right places.

  I know most of the women backstage tonight will be dressed in the latest fashion, but my outfit says I’m with the band and working. I only have two pairs of shoes, my work ones and a pair of tatty trainers. I decide to go with the work shoes. They have a bit of a heel and look better with the jeans. Placing my ID lanyard around my neck, I complete my outfit with a swipe of my new, bright-red lipstick. It was the only other thing I treated myself to with the money Fred gave me. I take a last look in the mirror of the small bathroom to confirm I’m happy with how I look and head to the stadium.

  The band is busy preparing for the show when I arrive, and leaving them to it, I take up a position by the side of the stage. I’ve never been to an actual rock concert before. Most of my work has been done behind a desk, and I’ve never been able to afford a treat like this. I do hope I haven’t put anyone’s nose out of joint back in the office with my sudden promotion. I’m sure to hear about it in the next few days if I have.

  The warm-up band finishes, and I can see the roadies quickly changing the set around for Saving Tate. The bandmates appear at the side of me and get into a huddle before heading onto the stage. Cameron gives me a wink as he passes. Tate glares then turns his attention to where he needs to be. The stage is dark before spotlights, one by one, illuminate the individual band members. When the light hits each of them in turn, they begin to play their instruments. Tate is the last to be revealed. He lets out a long lamenting note that seems to go on forever. It’s perfectly in pitch the entire time and sends a cold shiver down my spine with the emotion in it. The pace of the instruments picks up, lights illuminate the whole stage, and the band launches into what I know was their first-ever single.

  Pour me a whiskey fallen one,

  So, I can drown away the misery,

  Of a life wasted in a field of thorns,

  Crushing any hope for a life of love.

  The lyrics hit me straight in the chest—I’m mesmerized by them and the way Tate sings them. It’s clear each and every word is equally important to him. I lose track of time, standing there hanging on to every word. I should be working, but I can’t move. I’m drawn in as song after song plays. I cry at the ballads. I shake my head along to the heavier rock songs. I’ve never felt emotion like this before.

  At one point, Tate comes off-stage to get a moments rest while Cameron plays a guitar solo. He sees me, and what I’m feeling must be written on my face because he stops, dead in his tracks, and stares at me. His eyes darken to the color of the night sky before he turns his head away, downs a whole bottle of water, and then glancing at me one more time, he heads back onto the stage. The hairs on my arms stand on end as he launches into a song I’ve not heard before.

  Darkness knows darkness,

  They bleed together,

  Bonding under each other’s skin,

  Like serpents twisted around a tree,

  She’s mine, I know it, so does she,

  But the pull will bring us both down.

  All is not what it seems with Tate Gordon. I don’t know whether to be scared or not. Something tells me I should run away because I might end up regretting staying.

  Eventually, the concert finishes, and I lose myself in my work, listening out for what people are saying. I also make sure the band members carry out their interviews and don’t voice any contentious views that could lead to negative first night headlines. Again all goes well, and I start to think I’m going to like this job. I’m exhausted. It’s been a long day, but I feel alive for the first time since I can’t remember when.

  I go to check on the guys backstage, and out of the corner of my eye, I notice Tate getting himself a drink. He’s alone while his bandmates are already entertaining a couple of women—Austin has his tongue down the throat of one of them. I knew this would happen. They’re young men with needs. I can cope with it. Tate notices me and calls me over to him with a commanding nod of his head.

  “You want a drink?” he asks and holds out a beer.

  “I’m all right, thank you,” I reply politely, and he shrugs his shoulders and drinks the beer himself.

  “Are you a teetotaler?”

  “No, just working,” I lie. I hate alcohol with a passion for obvious reasons.

  “Are we all behaving ourselves enough for you?” he questions, his tone flat.


  I give a nervous laugh, hoping to dispel the tension between us. “I’ve heard nothing but good things about the band all night.” I look up at Tate. His eyes are mesmerizing. “I really enjoyed the concert. It’s the first one I’ve ever been to.”

  “I noticed. You can always tell a newbie. Odd job to have if you’ve never seen a concert before.”

  “I like helping people to achieve their potential. That makes the job right for me.”

  Tate looks me up and down. I feel my skin run cold with a shiver.

  “Hmm.” He flicks his tongue around the top of the beer. “This really isn’t the right job for you. You should quit now before you get hurt.”

  “I’m not going down this route again with you. We’ve already discussed it.”

  Tate leans into me, his breath warm in my ear.

  “Maybe it isn’t that the job’s right for you, but you’re here simply because you need the money. You obviously can’t afford anything decent to wear, Little Miss Goodwill.”

  I pull back from him, the shock of his words ringing in my ears.

  “Fuck you,” I spit out and slap him hard across the face.

  It may cost me my job, but I’m fuming. Why is he being such an arrogant pig? What have I ever done to him except not have a dick? Mostly I’m upset because he’s noticed my weakness—the fact I’m poor and will never be a multi-millionaire like him. I’m nothing, and I’ll always be the same. Who am I kidding anyway? He’s right—I don’t fit in here. Without another word, I turn and walk away, needing to put as much distance between myself and Tate Gordon as possible.