Everything I Have (Everything I Want #3) (13 page)

Steve steps up to Matt with his clipboard and his earpiece in. His long, dark hair is pulled tight into a ponytail. The lights dim even more in the already dark venue and my band looks like ghosts as they make their way onto the small stage toward their instruments. Light fog billows around their ankles as they set up, then begin to play our intro. Rubbing my hands slowly together, I let out a breath before Steve hands me the mic and I make my way on stage.

Stepping into the red haze of light, I go right into wailing. Starting off heavy like this always gets my adrenaline going. When Jeff reaches his solo, I step up on one of my sound boxes and lean over the crowd, singing with full force again, losing myself completely in the song.

When we’re finished, Jeff and Matt keep a steady rhythm going as I introduce us.

“How’s it going, Milwaukee?!”

Jeff does a quick riff on the guitar. Running my tongue over my dry lips, I pull my hair out of my face, keeping my hand on the back of my head to hold the pieces in place.

“It’s good to fucking be here for all of you’s tonight!”

Seeing the crowd’s excitement brings the corner of my mouth up as my eyes take in the people around the top of the balcony.

“Show me your tits!” some dude in the front yells at me.

Ignoring him, I jump off the box and start walking toward the other side of the stage, making it look like I’m feeling the crowd when in reality, it’s because of that douchebag. It’s not the first time some idiot has yelled that kind of shit at me, but now it feels different.

“I would like to introduce you to the boys.”

Grinning, I wink at someone in the crowd. With the lights blaring in my face, it’s hard to make out who they are.

“This fine young man here is Jared.” 

I look up and over at him. He gives me a full smile back before he nods at the crowd. His perfectly styled hair stays in place as he does a little head bang for the audience. Placing my right hand on my hip, facing the crowd, I take a few steps back to where Roger’s set is up on his own stage behind me. I can’t hold back my laugh when Roger does this goofy ass beat behind me. Matt and Jeff still keep on playing.

“Roger, everyone,” I gesture over my shoulder with my thumb, tipping my chin back.

He spins his stick through his fingers, doing a mini solo to show off. Walking up to Matt, who is on the other side of the stage, I wrap my arm around his neck, hanging off his side. With the hand that’s holding my mic, I point at Matt. Before I can even get his name out, screams erupt louder.

Matt has always been the “dreamy” one of the group, I guess you could say, with his jet black hair, piercing blue eyes, and tats. Shit, he’s quit the ladies’ man. Giving him a nod, I release my arm from around his neck and traipse over to Jeff, bobbing my head.

“Last, but certainly not least… our man, Jeff!”

I give him a quick wink. It’s hard to see his eyes with his long bangs in the way and his hat tipped forward, but he’s wearing the widest grin. His fingers glide over the strings with ease as he does his own riff.

Running my fingers through my hair again, I head straight for the center of the stage.

“Now tonight, I ask just one thing from all of you’s.”

I raise my index finger, a smile dancing across my face. More screams and whistles echo around me. Twisting my wrist, I point down at the ground. My smile fading, I continue.

“Tonight, whatever bullshit you’re carrying, or whatever’s pissing you off, I promise you,” I pause for a moment to take in the killer sight in front of me. “For tonight, and only tonight, I will make you all forget.”

The corner of my mouth rises and at that moment, the boys go right into
Obliterate
. We hit them hard with song after song, not breaking at all. By the time our set is almost over, I’m breathing heavily into the mic and my hair is sticking to the sides of my face and back. Fuck, I’m out of breath.

“Thanks for the awesome night, Milwaukee. Did I help you forget?” I ask teasingly at the end, with maybe a hint of sexy.

Again, screams, whistles, and lights from cell phones scatter all around me. Holding my stomach with my hand, I giggle into the mic.

“Right on, then.”

I nod one last time and leave it like that. The lights slowly fade as music blares out of the speakers.

“That was fucking sweet!”

Roger pats my back. If it was someone I didn’t know, I would feel so embarrassed at my sweaty back being touched. But it’s Roger, and by the looks of him, he has a few more gallons of sweat on him than I do. Gross.

Right when I’m turning the corner, a firm grip takes hold of my upper arm and instantly sends a sensuous stab to my core.

“So fucking sexy,” Tristan growls in my ear.

“Where were you?” I ask, keeping my back to him.

“Busy.”

Tristan runs his nose up the side of my neck, inhaling right below my jaw.

“Busy, what?” I ask all breathily.

“You’ll just have to wait.”

Chapter Thirteen

Tristan

“Did you get a hold of him?”

I wait for Lux to respond.

“Yes, I did. Now what else is it that you wanted me to do?”

“Nothing right now. I’ll get a hold of you later.”

Pressing end, I slide my phone into my front pocket. I’m can’t stop fucking grinning. We’re about to do our last show in the States and tomorrow morning, Sophia and I are flying out early to head back to L.A. before the European leg.

I haven’t really said too much to my guys yet, but I’m sure they’re probably catching on. Sophia still gets uncomfortable the more people who know about it, and she still hasn’t said a fucking thing to her parents. She wants to do it in person somehow, but I don’t see how that can happen ‘til after the tour is over. It will be too fucking late by then, so she’s just gonna have to call when we get back. Fuck, her mom probably already thinks I’m a piece of a shit, and I can’t fucking blame her for that.

Scanning the hall, I push myself off the wall and head right for Sophia’s room. Frankie should be almost done with her by now and I want to feel my girl before she goes on.

I’m starting to really notice little changes in her. We’ve played pretty much every night since Milwaukee except for one, and it’s starting to wear on her. Sophia tries to cover it up, saying she’s fine and performing even harder like she’s trying to prove something. She might feel weak, but she’s not. That woman is the strongest person I have ever fucking met; shit, even more than I am. Once Europe is over, my girl needs to take a damn break, especially since right after the baby’s born, we have to go off and start another tour a couple months later.

Frankie’s high-pitched squeal rings out, sounding muffled through the door. Shaking my head, my lip curls up at the side. That guy is defiantly something else, but he makes my Sophia smile. Anyone or anything bringing that beautiful smile of hers out has to be someone pretty damn special to her.

She’s a lot like me in that she keeps her circle small. I’ve never heard her talk about old friends or whatever, pretty much just her band who she didn’t meet until she started college. She just doesn’t let anyone in. I still can’t fucking believe I’m one of the lucky bastards she loves and that I’m going to be the father of her baby.

I twist the knob, not even knocking before I walk through. I clench my jaw to stop grinning, but it doesn’t work. The moment my eyes land on hers, I couldn’t help but smile. I’m fucking smiling all the time now. Not saying that’s bad or anything, just something I’m not used to. First time I started doing this was right when I left the studio after the first time I ever laid eyes on her. Now it’s amped up by a thousand.

“Hey, baby.” Sophia’s eyes light up when she sees me.
Goddamn,
she’s beautiful. 

“How are you feeling?” I ask, stepping between her parted thighs.

Frankie takes a step back, smirking at me. Sophia’s small hand takes hold of mine and pulls it up so it cups her soft cheek. Her eyes are laughing at me.

“Tristan, I’m only a couple months. Pretty sure I still have a while before anything,” she hesitates for a moment, her eyes darting to the left, “
uncomfortable
happens.”

Frankie does his stupid giggle as Sophia lets go of my hand. The corner of my mouth curls up as I lean into her, gripping the arm rests of the chair and getting right in her face.

“I was talking about last night.”

Sophia’s eyes dilate and her breathing hitches.

Frankie gasps in the background. Shut that little fucker up. Pushing off her chair, I cross my arms over my chest, waiting for her to speak.

Sophia shakes her head at me slowly, her eyes glaring, but I know that’s bullshit because the smirk on her face tells me she’s probably fucking wet now just thinking about it.

“Gawd! I love you two’s dirty fucking mouths.”

My eyes snap up to Frankie as he fucking fans his face with his hand. This guy is ridiculous! I raise my left eyebrow up at him. Sophia looks over her shoulder at him.

“Frankie. Go.”

He looks at Sophia for a moment, then his face splits with a grin. Twirling a piece of his blond hair between his fingers, he looks from Sophia, to me, then back to her.

“Okay.”

We both wait there for a second because he always has to get some stupid little last word in.

Biting his lip, Frankie leans over Sophia and grabs onto some black bag. It kind of looks like a purse. Frankie slides the straps up his arm so they rest on his shoulders. What the fuck? It
is
a fucking purse. Jesus, this guy. Sophia notices me giving Frankie’s “purse” the eye. A wide, knowing grin lights up her face.

“Bye, bitch.”

Frankie kisses her on top of her head. Sophia smiles up at him, closing her eyes when he kisses her.

“See ya, slut,” she teases back.

“Gawd, I fucking wish.”

No. Didn’t want to hear that. They both giggle at each other for a moment.

“See ya after, girl,” Frankie chirps over his shoulder as he practically skips by me.

When the door latch clicks, my smile fades as I watch Sophia take a tissue and dab lightly around her eyes. With one of her hands propping herself up on the vanity, she leans right up to the mirror, that unbelievable ass of hers sticking out in black shorts and those black tights. Her hair lays long, with thick waves curtaining down her small back.

God, I fucking love running my fingers through that hair and gripping it tightly when I’m inside of her. Not even thinking about it, I step up right behind her, grabbing onto her hips. Sophia now is spreading dark red lipstick across that perfect mouth of hers as her eyes stare back at mine in our reflections.

“Sorry, baby.” She looks down as she pulls out another tissue. Curling her lips over her teeth, she bites down on it. Her eyes look back up at mine as she pulls it away. “Gotta go on in a couple minutes.”

I run my hands down her bare waist and around to her stomach. With one hand holding her there, I feel up her front ‘til her supple breast spills out of my hand. I know she can feel my fucking hard on pressed against her back. Sophia smirks at me. God, I fucking love that she pushes me right back.

Unable to control it anymore, I dip my head down so I can get a taste of her. My tongue traces small circles on the skin right below her ear, sending a throb through my dick. Sophia tilts her head to the right, giving me better access. A sweet moan escaping her closed lips. She brings her hands up and holds onto mine, which still has its hold on her breast. Right when my mouth is about to find hers, a loud knock hits the door before it bursts open.

“Yo, Sophie! You taking a sh-”

Roger stops mid sentence when he looks up and finds my hands all over Sophia, who stands with her eyes clouded over.

Roger looks like
he
just took a shit. Stepping away from my girl, I slap that fine ass as she clears her throat. When Roger sees me do it, he turns back around.

“Ah, yeah. See you on stage.”

Sophia starts laughing, shaking her head to try and clear it. Gripping her shoulders gently, I spin her around. Breathing over her parted lips, I savor this extra second of closeness before she has to go.

Sophia fists the back of my head, crashing me down on her as she slides her sweet tongue into my mouth, my groan leaving me and filling her. Fuck. Sophia slows down and slowly pulls her lips away from mine. Looking up at me, she taps the tip of my nose with her finger before winking at me.

“Bye,” she whispers before sidestepping around me.

I watch her in the mirror as she leaves. She glances over her shoulder and gives me one last small smile before she closes the door. My eyes slide from the door to my own reflection, looking at the man before me. I don’t know where the hell it comes from, but just then, I think of my old man and my chest tightens.

“Tristan!” my dad yells out the back door.

He can’t see me, but I get a clear shot of him. Since my mama went away a couple years ago, he’s been sad. So sad that my dad’s friend uncle Jerry’s been coming over every day, fixing me dinner and talking with him. He’s been in the garage a lot. I only see him come out when he has to sleep or go to work. But when I do see him, he hugs me hard and his breath smells funny. It must be from that brown stuff he drinks all the time.

“TRISTAN!” he yells louder.

Stepping out of the back door, he brings his fingers up to his mouth and he whistles really loud. Pushing myself up off the ground, my head sticks up through the tall grass. I wave my arms in the air.

“Over here, dad!” I yell back.

My dad’s sad eyes lift when he sees me.

“Tristan, my boy,” he yells back, waving me in.

He’s in a good mood. He must not be sad today. This makes me happy.

I start running through the tall grass, pushing it out of my way as I head straight for my dad. He’s wearing dirty clothes, but his smile reaches his eyes. When I come up to him, he bends over and swoops me up into the air. This makes me laugh. I love my dad, but I hate
her
now for making him sad.

The faint echo of Sophia’s voice sinks through the cement walls. Shaking my head, I blow out a breath as I tug my hair back and out of my face. Why the fuck did I just think of something like that? Rolling my neck, I try to relieve some of the tension that I have built up. I better go and let the guys know, if they haven’t heard already, what the fuck is going on.

Sophia’s voice booms over the sound system when I step out into the hallway, causing my blood to pump even faster through my veins. I hear music coming from one of the rooms a couple doors down. That must be where they are.

Opening the door, the pungent smell of weed and Jack Daniel’s wafts around me. Jesus Christ. It’s pretty dark in here with only the soft glow of a lamp in the back casting any light. Slipknot’s
Dead Memories
blares through the speakers on the wall. I shut the door behind me so I don’t have to listen to two songs going on at once. Squinting, I take a couple steps in. Caleb is slouched over on a chair, holding a half-empty bottle of Jack between his legs.

“Hey, man.” I say to him as I get closer.

Caleb’s eyes are still staring at the ground. He looks like a fucking zombie right now. I give his shoulder a quick pat.

“Yeah, man?”

His voice is low; I can barely pick it up with
Dead Memories
jamming in the background. Fuck it.

“Hey, I gotta tell you something.”

Crossing my arms, I watch his eyes scan slowly up to mine. They’re bloodshot as hell. Christ.

“Did you hear anything?”

Caleb’s lip curls slightly at the side, but he still stays silent. Glaring at him, I wait for the fucker to speak. He brings the bottle up to his mouth and takes a swig before using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth off. His tongue darts out and licks his lips. Shrugging, he bends over and places the bottle on the ground beside him, reaching for the pack of reds beside him. The cigarette hangs loosely from his lips when he looks back up at me.

“You knocked her up.”

Shit, I guess he does fucking know. He presses his lips down on the cigarette and sparks his lighter.

“Congratulations,” he mumbles, holding it midway in the air.

He finishes lighting his cigarette and lifts up from the chair so he can slide his lighter back in his pocket. What the fuck?

“Are you all right, man?” I ask him. Fuck! He better not be getting all junkie’d out.

“I should be asking you that,” he cackles, shaking his head at himself.

Glancing over my shoulder, I spot a chair by the lamp. Grabbing the back of it, I swing it around me. It hits the floor with a loud scrape as I take a seat.

“Go,” I order him, tipping my chin back up at him.

Caleb stretches out the hand that has his cigarette pinched between his index and middle fingers and rubs his temples with his thumb and ring fingers.

“Nothing, bro.”

“Don’t fucking bullshit me, guy.”

“Guy?” he snarls at me.

I squint my eyes. It’s hard to tell by the darkness of the room, but… has Caleb been crying? What the fuck?

When the song ends, Caleb grabs the remote. Not even noticing that I’m still in the fucking room, he replays the song. Oh, fuck. I know what the fuck is bothering him. Kind of funny now that I fucking think about it. Here I thought he was gonna be a problem, but he’s off because of some female.

“Yeah.
Guy
,” I sneer back cockily.

“You love her?” Caleb spits at me.

This throws me off. My smirk fading, I pinch my eyebrows together. Where the fuck did this just come from? His eyes fade downward as I check him out. He brings the cigarette back up to his lips.

“I do.”

The words come out strong.

Caleb’s eyes flick back up to mine, smoke creeping out the sides of his lips. He nods his head toward me.