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Authors: Jade C. Jamison

Fully Automatic (Bullet) (36 page)

BOOK: Fully Automatic (Bullet)
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She smiled again.  God, she was beautiful.  She had no idea.  He’d been angry when at first she’d decided to dress provocatively onstage, but she’d bloomed and embraced her womanhood, and he was okay with it now.  But he had to keep reminding himself she wasn’t for him, no matter how badly he thought he wanted her.  He tried to keep his eyes on the road.  She said, “It worked.”  She turned to look back out the window.

He nodded, acting as casual as he possibly could.  Yeah, he had to bury it deep.  Really deep.  And pray this time it stayed there.

But, try as he might, he
didn’t know if he could keep up with the charade.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Forty-three

 

BRAD MANAGED TO arrange a mini-tour much like the one they’d enjoyed a year earlier.  It was set for mid-July.  It was four shows only but four bands on tour, and the venues were all new.  Brad had managed to book bigger places than they were used to playing, and he arranged it early enough that (he hoped) the venues could generate a lot of interest.

Because their schedule on this tour was tighter and the locations farther apart than the tour the year before, Brad created several lists, including a driving schedule.  He, Val, and Zane would take turns driving.  No one questioned it, except for Val, asking why it was
only the three of them.  Brad simply told her the truth.  He knew if Val or Zane had to get behind the wheel, they’d be sober.  He knew for a fact that both Ethan and Nick had driven when they shouldn’t have, and Brad didn’t want to risk their lives or his van just because one of them was being irresponsible.  He only planned to give Val or Zane the keys when he needed sleep, so he had to know the van was in good hands.

The tour was fast and frenetic.  It was energizing, something their shows had been lacking for the last few weeks.  He wasn’t sure why.

Their last show was in Texas and it kicked ass.  They made more money from that show than any other on their tour, but the entire tour had amazed Brad with the money it brought in.  He and the other bands had hoped for that, though, and they’d planned ahead in anticipation.  They’d sprung for three suites the final night, because he knew they’d want to party hard before heading back home.  Val, of course, still had her own room and it was down the hall, and when the guys complained about that, saying she could sleep on a couch or something, she paid for her own room and told them to “shut the fuck up already.”  She apologized to Brad for making things difficult, and he said, “Val, you know I’ve always supported you having your own room.  No need to tell me you’re sorry.  I’ll slip you a little extra cash to pay for it.”

“No, I got it.  It’s cool.”

The suites were bigger than he’d imagined, and the accommodations were a little nicer than they were used to.  He just hoped they wouldn’t trash them and get bills for damage later.  They hadn’t had that problem on the road thus far, but they’d always stayed in lower-rent places that wouldn’t notice any damage the band happened to inflict.

He showered before joining the party.  It was hotter there than he was used to anyway, but add to that the stage lights and playing his ass off, and he needed a long, cool shower to feel normal again.

When he got to the party, all the bands were there, as well as lots of people he didn’t know.  There were lots of girls around, so he knew someone had decided to spread the word—it was no longer a bands-only party.  That was probably better, though, because otherwise Val would get all the attention of all the horny twenty-something guys there.  He looked around and didn’t see her, so he figured maybe she’d decided to call it a night.  Probably a smart move.

He looked around and spied all manner of fine women.  It was a shame he didn’t feel like making a move on any of them.  He’d realized over the past year that picking up women was getting easier, but he didn’t think it was because he’d gotten any better at the process.  He figured it was because they were starting to view him as a rock star, and rock stars got women.  It was as simple as that.

The problem was he didn’t want any of them.  There was only one woman he wanted, and the feeling wasn’t mutual.  He was growing angry with himself for not finding a way to let her go, but he knew that as long as they kept up the flirtatious stage act, he’d never get her out of his head.

He needed psychiatric help.  He doubted other guys carried a torch like he had.  And he knew it was fucking stupid but he had no idea how to just let it go.

Maybe he’d drink a lot tonight.  They weren’t leaving until sometime the next day, and checkout was late morning, so if he partied a little harder than usual, he’d be okay.  If Val was sleeping (as he suspected), he could ask her to drive the first shift if he needed to catch a few extra Zs.

He decided to chat with various band members.  Thus far, networking had not let him down.  He never knew when a person he’d met could help him along the way.  Sometimes, by
simply knowing other bands and asking them to commit to a date, he could book a show because he’d lined up several bands for it.  He had only managed to do that because he had taken the time to get to know the people in the bands, and he had a good rapport with them.  They had come to realize that Fully Automatic (and Brad in particular) was reliable.  They did what they said they were going to do.  So they had a good reputation.  Brad saw no reason to not keep up the streak, and he would do it by befriending people in the other bands.  Some of the guys he already knew, but a few of them were new additions.  It happened.  In the world of indie metal, line ups changed all the time, and some groups simply disbanded when they couldn’t get along anymore or had a difference of artistic opinion.  Last Five Seconds was one of the few that was going to make it.  They’d found recognition and were going to the next level, and Brad suspected they’d never play with those guys again because of it (or until Fully Automatic made it as well).  Spanky’s Kids, the other band they’d toured with the year before, had already split up.  There were too many egos involved.  The singer and drummer had since started up a new band, but Spanky’s Kids was no more.  Brad had seen that happen a lot.  Sometimes, it made the individuals stronger, but they were starting over at the bottom.  At least if your band had a name, you had a fan base and recognition.  He didn’t think their fans loved him personally.  It was his band.  If they had to replace a member, they’d move on, but he couldn’t imagine starting from scratch.  Fully Automatic was
his
band and always would be.  The guys knew it too.

But Brad was feeling happy with his band right now and the other bands they’d played with, and discussing music with any
one of the guys of any one of the other bands was in order.  He was chatting with two of them when he spied Valerie just across the room.  She too was mingling, chatting with people here and there.  Goddamn…she was just like him in that respect.  She knew how important it was to get to know people and establish good will.  He couldn’t remember anymore whose idea it had been to bring her on board, but it was a damn good idea.  The best.

And that thought
alone made the vice around his heart clamp down again.  God, he ached for that woman, and she had no idea.  He knew, though—he knew deep down that it would end in heartache, and he didn’t know if it would be worse than the pain he felt now.  He didn’t know if he was willing to take that risk with her anymore.

Of course, he knew he wouldn’t act on any attraction he felt anyway.  He’d promised her, promised her dad, and the band was better for it.

It didn’t stop him from feeling, though.

He forced himself to concentrate on the conversations he was engaging in, but after a while, he was alone again, and that was when he noticed she was in the kitchen.  It looked like Ethan
was giving her a hard time, and the guy was holding her on his lap.  That meant Ethan was stoned, drunk, or both, and he hadn’t found some girl willing to suck his dick for the evening.  That was unusual for Ethan, because he usually had a line of girls ready and willing.

By the time he got to the kitchen area, he heard Val say, “You’re my friend, Ethan.  And you’re drunk.”  Brad sat in the chair next to Ethan’s.  “Let me go.”

Ethan was out of control.  Brad hoped he would listen to reason. “There a problem here?”

Ethan
scowled and barely made eye contact with his friend.  “No problem.  Just tellin’ my girlfriend what she means to me.”  What the fuck was the guy taking?  He and Val had been split up for over a year.

Val tried pulling away.
  “I’m
not
your girlfriend, Ethan.  I haven’t been in a long time.”

“Why can’t we be again?”

“Why don’t you ask me when you’re sober?”

Enough.  He didn’t want to have to get physical with his brother, but he would if he had to.  He hoped he’d listen to reason with whatever part of his brain was still paying attention. 
“You heard her, Ethan.”

“Fine.”

As soon as he let go, Val stood up.  She grabbed a glass of water on the table and Brad saw her whisper to him, “Thanks.”

“Aw, c’mon, babe.”

Smart girl.  She kept walking.  Brad looked in his friend’s eyes.  “You gonna be okay?”

Ethan smirked.  He was fucking wasted.  “Getting there.”

Brad felt helpless again.  This was one of those times where his friend had gone overboard
, and there would be nothing he could do except watch the guy make an ass out of himself.  There was no saving him until he decided to take care of himself.  Brad stood and patted Ethan on the shoulder.  “Let me know if you need anything.”  He knew Ethan wouldn’t take him up on his offer, never had, but it didn’t stop him from wanting to say it.

He wanted to find Valerie and make sure she was okay—both physically and emotionally.  He grabbed the bottle of spiced rum off the counter that he’d bought and forgotten about and a shot glass and moved toward the love seat in the living area where he saw her sitting.  She was sipping her water and she looked introspective.  She was probably questioning what she ever saw in Ethan.  He knew, though, that when Ethan was sober
, he was one of the most charming people a girl could ever meet and fall for.  It was temporary, but Val looked like she needed a friend just the same.

He sat next to her and said,
“Sorry Ethan was being such a dick.”

She
laughed.  “Like you have any control over him.  But seriously…thanks for the save.  I appreciate it.”

“That’s what friends are for.”  He
poured a shot and asked, “Want one?”

She shrugged but said,
“Yeah…just one, though.”  When he handed it to her, she gulped it down.

He poured another shot. 
“Sure you don’t want more?”

“Positive.  But thanks.”

He swallowed one himself.  Damn…that felt good.  He needed a little liquid steel and this felt about right.  He was going to ask a tough question.  “So…you still love him?”

She looked shocked. 
“Ethan?”

“Yeah…who else?  Jet?”
  Oh, fuck.  Did he really want to know the answers to any of these questions?  Yes…and no.  And he couldn’t even blame the liquor because he hadn’t had enough yet.

Still, she smiled and considered the question. 
“Ha.  Love is a thing of the past.  I don’t plan to ever give my heart to a man again.”

That was when he knew she was lying to him. 
“Oh, stop that shit, Val.  You’re talking to
me
.  I’m your friend, and I know better.  I know you’ve been hurt and you’re afraid of risking love again.  Am I right?”  He read her lyrics and they were like a lifeline to her heart.  She was afraid of taking another chance, but she hadn’t closed off her heart.

He knew exactly how she felt.

Her eyes searched his for a few seconds before she answered.  “That’s not it.  I just don’t have a place in my life for a man.  That’s all.  Especially right now.”

“You forget…I actually
read
your goddamned lyrics, Val.  And I sing some of them.  I don’t just give them lip service.”  He couldn’t look her in the eyes anymore and he needed another shot, so he concentrated on tilting the bottle over the shot glass.  “You are a romantic, whether you want to admit it or not.”

“Okay…so I’ll admit it.  All right?  But…so far, all real life romance has done for me is break my heart.”

“Makes for some good songs, right?”  He felt an opening, like it was time to have a tête-à-tête about something that had bothered him for a long time.  “And so now you’re playing this sex-starved goddess onstage.  Does that validate your feelings?  Or do you think you’ll find the perfect man by doing that?”

“What?  Are you drunk too?”

He wished, but he was a long way from it.  No, he was saying something she didn’t want to hear.  Still, he couldn’t help but laugh.  “Hell, no.  Not even close.”

“Well, bottom line…I’m not looking for the perfect man.  I don’t
want
a man right now, perfect or not.  That’s not on my agenda.”

That was good, but it didn’t explain the provocative persona she’d been wearing for a while now. 
“So what is?”

“Making our band successful, and…” 
She wanted to say something more, and so he raised his eyebrows, encouraging her to spit it out.  “And having fun.”

Maybe the alcohol
was
loosening him up, because he couldn’t stop the words before they spilled out of his mouth.  “What kind of fun?”

He saw her eyes grow wider as she said,
“Any kind.”

H
oly fuck.  Was he understanding what she was saying?  If he wasn’t mistaken, she was full on flirting with him, and not like the shit they’d been doing onstage lately.  He should have walked away or taken another drink or laughed.  Instead, he tried to get his bearings.  He took a deep breath and rested his elbows on his thighs, his hands pressed together as though in prayer, and he rested his lips on the tips of his fingers.  Yeah, he might have been slow on the uptake once in a while, but she was definitely flirting with him, and he couldn’t resist.  Just couldn’t.  Valerie had never been his, never would be his, but he couldn’t resist just once, now that they were adults, playing back.  He smiled and said simply, “Any kind, huh?”  He turned his head then and looked her in the eyes.  He wanted her to know she needed to stop right there because what she was doing wasn’t fair.  “That could get you into trouble, Valerie.”

BOOK: Fully Automatic (Bullet)
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