Out Of Place (Face the Music Book 2) (8 page)

However, when it came to girls, he didn’t want them to want him because of what he did. Picking up after gigs had made him realise that it wasn’t him they wanted. Not really. They’d wanted to brush up against stardom.

He wanted to hold the stars in his hand. When he did, all those who doubted that he had what it took to be great would see they had fed the fire. His teachers at school, and most of the kids, had said go for it in one breath and then reminded him that few made it with the next.

Get a real job, then try.

But if he had a job he wouldn’t have time to try. His father was waiting for him to grow up and get a real job. Not that he’d used those words, but if Ed ever complained about his car or a lack of money, his father reminded him that this was his choice and the solution was easy.

All he had to do was admit he’d failed and that everyone was right. He was good, but not great.

Satisfactory. Ordinary. Average.

The heat assaulted him as soon as he got out of the car. Heat plus a small amount of nerves wasn’t a good mix. He wiped his hands on his black shorts then made his way down the stairs. He knew better than to trust the lift in this car park. His mother had got stuck in there and less than a month later one of her friends had. He wasn’t willing to take that chance.

By the time he’d walked to the corner where he was meeting Olivia he was still early, but only by a couple of minutes. He’d made it a habit to never be late or keep people waiting. The band was a business and he had to be professional. There were too many tales of bands who’d thought they’d made it and started acting like big shots, only to have a rude awakening. The music industry in Australia was too small to piss on people.

He fiddled with his smart phone as he stood in the shade. Checked his social media and then his emails—none of which he’d done this morning as he’d gone out for a surf with his mates. While they’d ribbed him about not going to Bali, again, he’d agreed to go out with them after playing at the Basement on Bannister. That was shaping up to be a great night.

He liked playing in Freo and the Basement, while small, had a great feel and was well known for supporting local acts. Selling the Sun had played there many times before they had signed, but this was the first time they’d played there since the release of their first album. It was ironic that they’d been invited to join in the Basement’s successful cover series and play an album that had influenced them, and not their own work. It was also a mark of recognition.

He glanced up as a blonde woman crossed the street and walked towards him.

Olivia.

Large sunglasses hid most of her face. Her hair was in one long braid over her shoulder and she was wearing one of those shapeless ground-length dresses that seemed to have been in fashion for years. But when the breeze gave a half-hearted attempt to cool things down, the blue fabric pressed against all the right places.

As she drew closer he dragged his gaze up to her face—glad she couldn’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses. His gaze stopped on the pink scars that covered her shoulder and traced part of the way down her arm. They weren’t the kind of scars that just happened; they were the remains of a major injury.

“Hi,” she smiled, but there was an edge that he hadn’t seen before.

“Hey. Shall we find somewhere inside before everyone rushes to get lunch?”

“Sure.”

Her responses were too casual. He’d expected her to mention who he was, or something along that line. Didn’t she like his music? That would be awkward.

They walked down South Terrace until they found a pizza place with AC and inside tables. It wasn’t flash, but it did great pizza.

“Is there anything you don’t eat?” For all he knew she was vegan or something. He probably should’ve started with do you want to share or do you want to get one each and let her lead into any dietary requirements. That was never a consideration when it was only drinking that was being done.

“No.” She shook her head, her gaze fixed on the menu. “If we get two we can eat from both?”

He nodded and his gaze flicked from the menu, and the selection of regular and gourmet pizzas, to the scars. Were there more? Was he really being that superficial? She didn’t have to tell even if he asked, and he didn’t need to know. He liked her, she was interesting and he’d never forget the way she’d smiled when he got her car going. It was not the way she’d smiled at him today. There was definitely something going on.

He might be out of practice, but getting the chill on a first date was never a good sign. They ordered and then there was
that
silence. Dating was a whole lot harder than he remembered. Might as well rip the dressing off and see what the damage was.

“So…what exactly did you learn about me?” Not everything online was flattering.

Her lips curved, but it couldn’t be called a smile. “Enough. You’ve had a busy year.”

“It’s nice to be home.” Despite the fact he’d rather not be living at home. “What about you? I know you bookkeep but that’s all.”

“I think I’m about to lose that job when the new owners take over.”

“That’s a bit rough.” He poured water from the bottle the waiter had placed on the table, glad to have something to do.

She nodded. “I’ve been there too long and it’s time to go.” She shrugged and glanced away. “I’d love to go to uni and get my accounting degree.”

“So why don’t you?” Gemma was going to resume study part-time next year. Because she was younger she hadn’t finished uni before things had started happening for the band. It meant she had nothing to fall back on. That she felt the need for it was a bitter pill, but he knew that nothing was guaranteed.

Olivia took a drink of water. Her hand shook as she placed the glass down. Then she looked at him and he knew bad news was coming. “You’re a rock star.”

He laughed. “Rock glow in the dark ceiling star—possibly.” Not that what he did had anything to do with why she didn’t go to uni and follow her dream.

She frowned at him, not appreciating his attempt at humour. Did she not like what he did? What exactly had she read about him? He hadn’t done anything that bad.

“I’m twenty two. I was in a car accident three years ago. I lost my fiancé and nearly my baby and my life because he’d been drinking. Now I have a three-year-old son and a part-time job. My life isn’t as carefree as yours.”

The waiter placed the pizzas on the table, which gave Ed a moment to absorb what she’d said.

She had a kid.

She’d had a fiancé.

Six months ago he’d have run and run fast because that what he’d wanted. Now he wasn’t sure what he wanted. But picking up after shows wasn’t it.

Olivia was three years younger than him and she’d lived more than he had—although she probably thought the same about him. Most people thought his life was one big party. For a while it had been. But there were only so many boozy nights and hangovers he could handle and continue to put on a good show. And only so many random encounters before he’d started to feel hollowed out after. The tour had left him feeling scraped clean, as though he’d had nothing left for anyone. It was only now he was starting to get back some feeling other than tiredness.

Olivia was waiting for him to say something. His mind was blank. She’d have been nineteen when all that had happened. “You’re a survivor.”

He probably should have put a bit more thought into those words.

“The alternative is death.”

“Yeah.” It was. He picked up a piece of pizza and started eating. Now he had an excuse not to talk and the silence returned.

Skipping conversation and jumping straight to sex was easier, as both parties knew what they wanted. Here he had no idea. He glanced at her shoulder. Every other time she’d worn clothing that had hidden the scars. Today she had them on show. For him?

Should he ask about them and the car accident? Was it a test to see if he would, or did she not care about them and simply really liked the dress?

He took a couple more bites and tried to find something else to say. “What’s your son’s name?”

“Ethan. We’d picked it out before…”

“You were pregnant at the time of the accident.”

“Eight months—it wasn’t planned.” She looked at the pizza and picked off a piece of capsicum before eating it. He watched her lips, already thinking of finding an excuse to kiss her. Her gaze returned to him. “Are you being polite or do you want to know? If you want to go, I won’t hold it against you.”

Did she really expect him to bolt because of what she’d said? Is that what other guys had done? “I like you. I want to know.”

“I’m not rock star girlfriend material.”

“I must have missed that memo.”

Olivia smiled her first unguarded smile of the day.

The rest of lunch went a little more smoothly and she almost managed to shake some of her doubts about Ed. He seemed genuinely interested, but the truth would be revealed when he did or didn’t call. It was easy to be polite and make promises while out, but much harder to keep them once the reality had set in.

She wasn’t going to call him to arrange another date. She wasn’t that desperate.

Yes she was.

It had been years since she’d had sex with someone other than herself. And while not as long since she’d gone on a date, this one was going much better because he hadn’t freaked out at the scars or Ethan. She was enjoying herself despite herself.

Ed was attractive. He had that sun-kissed look about him and while his hair was really too short and utilitarian, she wasn’t going to hold that against him. No woman would kick him out of bed in a hurry. And she needed the connection and the chance to be someone other than mum. She didn’t want to wake up alone one day in her forties and realise she’d missed all the fun.

Dating a rock star would be fun.

She’d spent all morning trying to work out what to wear and what to say. In the end she’d decided that she’d rather reveal the truth than hide it. Secrets always came out in the end and it would be much worse, and hurt more, if she liked him more. So she’d spent the drive here preparing herself for him to make excuses and bolt.

He hadn’t.

She watched him eat the last piece of pizza. He’d managed to put away a few more slices than her. She’d seen him half naked already and she knew they wouldn’t show. The memory of him standing by his car with the sun catching the water glistening on his skin was one she had recalled more than once, and it had made her smile every time.

Ed had told her a little about what it was like on the road—she was sure that he’d given her the clean version—but she couldn’t imagine being away from home that long. This fling would be over before he went away. She didn’t see how it could be anything more. He’d lose interest when he realised she couldn’t go out and party every weekend. But at least she’d have had fun along the way.

She was tempted to ask about Gemma, but she’d never really come up in conversation except as one of the guys. Maybe she was one of the guys and there was nothing to say.

“Are you sure you didn’t want the last piece?” Ed said, dragging her out of her thoughts.

Olivia blinked. “Sorry. I was thinking, not staring.” Her cheeks warmed. Had he thought she was watching him hungrily? Her gaze skimmed over him. It wasn’t his pizza that she wanted.

“Sure.” He winked.

She looked away and shook her head. He could have anyone and he was here with her. Her heart gave a flutter of excitement; the rest of her was more practical.

This was short-term.

Possibly one date once he went home and came to his senses.

It was probably better it was only one date. She didn’t have time for a fling right now, no matter how tempting. Her body didn’t agree. Here was someone she could sleep with, if only a few times. She needed that. Her body craved to be touched. She wanted to feel his hands on her and put her hands on him. The urge to lean closer and kiss him and feed the shimmer of lust was strong. But she didn’t.

She wasn’t a groupie and it would be too mortifying if he turned away.

“Are you doing anything next Friday night?”

“Um…” Was this his way of asking her out on another date? Already? Of course she was free, as long as her mum would babysit. Damn. No, she wasn’t. Disappointment flooded her veins.

Ed shrugged as though her pause in agreeing meant nothing. “It’s fine. I know it’s getting close to Christmas.” He seemed more wary now, as if worried she’d knock him back. She was willing to bet that never happened.

“I have my sister’s hens’ night.” Which she didn’t want to go to anyway, but couldn’t get out of.

“That’ll be far more fun than watching us make a hash of a cover.”

That was unlikely. Julie was sucking the fun out of everything at the moment. It had been ages since she’d gone to a concert of any description.

She frowned. “Why are you doing a cover?”

“It’s a thing. Successful local artists get invited to perform. Our name got mentioned and we said yes. It’s a bit of fun.” He smiled but she wasn’t sure that he did think it was fun. “Shall we get going?”

She checked her phone. “Yeah, I have to pick Ethan up.”

And remember to put the ring back on. That was one conversation she hadn’t been ready to have, so the ring was in her purse. It felt wrong to be putting on at all. Not wearing it was liberating in a way she hadn’t expected; the past was truly behind her.

“Thanks for coming.”

“Perhaps next time you play local I’ll come?”

The last concert she’d been to had been with Miles, before she’d discovered she was pregnant. It had been a two day event down south. She’d got sunburnt and drunk too much. She couldn’t remember the bands that had played.

“You’ve never seen us? That sounded a bit wrong. You’re not in the select few who have seen us?”

She shook her head; she had downloaded a couple of songs to her phone. When he sang, his voice was even better. “I’d like to, and I’m not saying that to pat your ego.”

“It’s all festivals over summer and we have to get the second album finished so I don’t know how many local gigs we’ll do.”

“It’s okay. I had fun today. It was nice to get out.” She regretted saying that as soon as it left her lips as it made her sound like a hermit. It was too close to the truth.