Snare (Falling Stars #3) (19 page)

Grinning wide, Jack pulls her against him and kisses the top of her head.

"We only have a few hours, let's get on with the sound checks and stage rehearsals," Red instructs.

The room moves in a familiar choreographed motion.

Sidra

Stop looking for him
, I mentally yell at myself.

The moment Red confirmed he arrived, my body has been on hyper alert knowing Xavier will be with him. I look down at a clipboard of things needing to be done this afternoon, and shake my head. I have everyone's show schedule on my phone. Said phone is burning a hole in my ass cheek, demanding I check it again to see if I can find a way to intersect him.

After the way I left, why would I expect him to come looking for me? Why do I want him to? Frustrated, I slam my pen on the clipboard and growl, causing Kel and one of his volunteer buddies to look at me.

"What?" I snap.

"You okay?" Kel asks.

His friend looks back at the laptop where he's getting familiar with the live feed and donations website.

"Yeah, just frustrated," I admit.

"Maybe you should take a break," he offers. "We've got this."

"What about the phones? Does every—"

He holds up two iPhones and his friend holds up two more.

"We're testing them now, making sure they all post to the correct accounts. Then, we'll pass them out and give instructions," Kel explains.

Slipping my phone out of my back pocket, I pull up the Twitter page for the event and see distorted pictures of things going on backstage. They don't give away anything, but they show just enough.

I nod and look up to Kel. "Good job."

"I haven't spent most of my life around you and not picked up a few things." He winks.

Taking a deep breath, I leave Kel to the social media so I can find Chantel to compare schedules.

I come out of one hallway and turn right just as the sound of Hushed Mentality fills the air. Mia's voice carries through the empty space, making me feel like like I'm caught in a sound tunnel. I bob my head and make my way to find Chantel.

An hour of going over the schedule…and for some reason the approved discussion list—Red somehow gave her the impression I could make calls on this too—I finally leave the meeting room.

The guitars and voices echo as I walk down the hall. I stop by to check on Kel, but he's out organizing our social media team. Grabbing my backpack from the floor, I leave in search of Liza—it's time I say hello to my cousin.

The closer I get to the dressing rooms, the more crowded it gets. There are so many people working. My eyes snag on a few scantily clad women lining the wall and in some corners…okay, working and loitering.

"Oh my God," one woman exclaims, running up to the group in the corner. "I just saw Christopher," she pants. "He nodded to me."

The group giggles.

I scrunch my face and it takes everything in me not to snort.

I've been around Chris enough to know he doesn't pay attention to the random women hanging around. Hell, I'm pretty sure she's lying about the nod.

"Well, Elaine and I just saw Xavier Stone going out to the stage," she boasts, catching more of my attention than I should allow.

I slow my roll so I can listen. Yes, I'm pathetic.

"He said 'hey' to both of us and smiled."

"Oh my," another woman interjects, "you all know about his habit right?"

This makes me completely stop in the middle of the hallway.

"What habit?" a new voice asks.

"Well, rumor has it—"

"It's a fact," someone interrupts. "I was at one of their concerts years ago and watched it go down. The man plays hard on stage and comes off so amped with adrenaline, he takes a girl or two into the dressing room to work out all that energy. I was
thi
s
close to him, but he grabbed some tramp next to me instead," she pouts.

"But he was married." At least one of them sounds like they have morals.

"It was after his divorce," the other brushes it off. "He was totally fair game. Besides, he didn't stray when he was married, from what I heard."

"He's so big. I wonder if he's big all over," she purrs.

I almost turn around to tell them he's definitely packing, but I shake myself before I have to explain that I've woken up with his hard-on pressed against my ass.

I push myself to start walking and stop eavesdropping, but I can't get this dressing room rumor out of my head. I wonder if all musicians come off stage amped up and ready to fuck.
Hmm…

Rounding a corner, I come face to chest with the oversized coloring book.

"Hey, Sid," he greets, gripping my shoulders.

I lift my backpack strap higher, look up, and respond, "Hey. Where's my girl?"

He moves aside and motions to the first room on my right.

"Thanks," I say, slipping by him and into the room, where I find most of The Forgotten and Hush.

"Sid," Liza squeals, pushing out of a chair and taking me in her arms.

"Hey, let me set my bag down."

Placing my backpack on a desk at the back of the room, I pull out my laptop, get it started up, then I return to my cousin.

When their conversation starts to die down, I finally ask what's been on my mind.

"Do you come off stage all horny and raging to go?"

The room falls silent and eyes turn to me.

"What? I heard people talking. Inquiring minds need to know," I explain, pointing to my head.

"Yeah," Elliott answers with a nod. "After a full set and the crowd getting into it, you're pretty full of adrenaline. No better way to ride that rush than on a hot chick."

I expect Elliott to get slapped, but instead, Serena nods. "It's true. The adrenaline can get you worked up and if you've got someone to work that out on, it's pretty fucking amazing."

She turns to Kat and gives her a wink Elliott can't see.

"Shit, you remember that guy during our first tour?"

"You were with me during your first tour," Elliott sits up, frowning.

Serena turns to him, a look of innocence on her face. Placing a hand on his shoulder, she says, "It was early in the tour. We weren't together, together."

"The fuck you say?" he growls.

Her hand slips away when he stands up.

Serena and Kat fall into a fit of laughter.

"You Neanderthal," Kat teases, "you were the guy."

They laugh harder and Elliott's eyes narrow on his wife.

"Woman, get up or I'm lifting you up," he orders.

"Bite me," she taunts.

Leaning down, he grabs her waist and lifts her into his arms.

"Put me down," she laughs.

"You will pay for that," he informs, stalking over to the bathroom and slamming the door behind them.

"I'm not fucking you in a bathroom," she yells.

"Then I'll fuck you," he shouts back.

There's a clatter before it falls silent.

I look back to the rest of the group, who all sit shaking their heads and smiling.

"So, they're just gonna have sex in there?" Liza asks, her eyes still on the door.

"Those two have angry sex, happy sex, hate sex…" Kat starts.

"Don't forget, I'm hungry sex, you looked at me sex, and I'm sad sex," Laney interjects.

Kat points at her and nods before finishing with, "And they have it everywhere. Serena will pretend she's mad about it, but truth is, she loves every damn second of him wanting her no matter the mood or location."

A loud moan draws all our attention to the bathroom.

"Huh," is my only response, before I turn to Mia. "What about Chris?"

They all laugh.

"What?" I ask.

"Chris is different," Mia says, pursing her lips.

"Yeah, like bi-polar different," Kat quips, earning a glare from Mia. "Chris is torn between the urge to bend Mia over on stage and show every man and woman who she's with, and wanting no one to see his Mia naked or her O face," she explains.

The scowl is off Mia's face as she nods.

"I've gotta admit, you kind of nailed it," Jimmy joins the conversation.

"What about Jack?" Mia leans forward, elbows on her knees.

"No," I put my hands out. "I've heard them," I thumb toward Liza, "going at it for months to know what Jack's like. He doesn't mind showing, but he'll be damned if anyone comes near her."

"So, you're saying he'd let me watch?" Kat raises her brow.

"No," Liza blurts.

Everyone laughs.

"What the hell is so funny?" Jack asks, entering the room.

Red and two unfamiliar men follow.

"Elliott and Serena," Kat says.

"Bathroom," Laney points without looking up from a magazine.

"Ahhh," Jackson nods before pulling Liza out of her chair, taking her seat, and placing her on his lap.

"Sid," Red draws my attention.

My throat goes dry and I fight not to look just beyond his shoulder.

I thought I was prepared to see him. I'm not. Emotion burns in my chest, slowly creeping up my neck and crawling low in my stomach. In a weak moment, my eyes flit to him. He's half smiling and staring at me.
Damn him.

Looking back at Red, I respond, "Yeah?"

"We all ready to go?"

I nod.

"Did Chantel get with you?"

His question snaps me out of my inner turmoil.

"Yeah, about that…" I stand, marching toward him, "why am I going over the press conference topics with her?"

Red gives me a small grin before trying to change the subject.

"Have you met Randy Glenn and Corbin Crowne?"

He motions to the two unfamiliar men.

Now that I take a better look at them, I remember them from album covers and videos. My eyes linger on Corbin, taking in the length of his lean body, olive skin, dark eyes, and long fingers before bringing my eyes up to meet his. He quirks a brow at me.

"Hi." I smile.

He smiles back.

Oh, sweet baby Jesus, that smile. My lower body gives a little clench and my knees want to hit the floor in worship.

I grip Red's arm and focus once again on Corbin.

"That shit should be illegal," I accuse. "Just unleashing it on an unwitting girl like that. Does the tooth fairy know about your abuse of power?"

At his burst of laughter, Red's muscles bunch and tension fills the room.

"I think I like her," Corbin offers, moving to take a seat in the far corner.

The muscles in Red's arm relax, and he whispers, "Thank you."

I twist my head to him, and ask, "For what?"

Red pulls me to his chest and whispers, "I haven't heard him laugh in years," to the side of my head.

He releases me only for Xavier to repeat the same gesture. Only, he whispers, "It's good to see your face."

While Corbin's smile was a kick to Xena Warrior Vaginator, Xavier's words are a swift, direct shot to a deeper place. Heat warms my belly, spreads down my thighs, and engulfs my chest. Too much lust. Too much emotion.

"Again, with the manhandling," I shove off him and step away. "Do we need to have a talk about personal space?"

"Only if you're inviting me into yours," he counters.

I roll my eyes and give him my back. Instantly, the heat of his body warms me from shoulders to heels.

Liza's wide eyes find mine. She's fighting a smile and I narrow my gaze on her. It only makes her give up the fight.

"It's not funny," I mouth, stepping away from his body heat invasion.

She buries her face in Jack's neck.

Why the hell was I looking for him earlier?

Chapter Sixteen

Sidra

Having escaped the dressing room, saying I needed to follow up on a few items before the show, I now find myself in need of my laptop and camera. With the show starting in an hour, fans currently swarm the main entrance and steadily fill up the seats.

"You can't hide in here all night," Kel's volunteer buddy says, his eyes still on the screen in front of him.

"I'm not hiding," I snap.

He turns skeptical blue eyes on me. This kid is the total California surfer cliché. Long, wavy, sandy blond hair, blue eyes, tan, and swimmer's build. When he makes the transition to a man, he's going to be hot as fuck. Right now, he's just a boy, like Kel, finding his way in the world since his balls dropped.

"Why else are you in here?" he asks, swiveling his chair in my direction.

"Because I'm supervising," I quip.

"Keep telling yourself that," he says, turning back to the computer.

Sticking my tongue out at the side of his head isn't mature, but I don't like when people call me out on my crazy.

The ring of my cell saves Mr. Surfer Dude from my wrath.

"Yeah," I answer.

"Can you come to the dressing room?" Liza sounds panicked.

"On my way," I respond and end the call.

My first stop is The Forgotten dressing room, but it's empty. Then I try Hush's room—still nothing. Knowing Corrosive Velocity's room is next, I take a deep breath before entering.

All eyes turn toward me for a brief moment, but my attention is on my cousin. She's pacing in the back of the room.

"You look fuck-hot," I appraise as I approach. She wearing tight black fake leather pants, shiny silver tank top covered by a cropped leather vest, five-inch black studded booties, and a ton of jewelry.

"Thank God," she breathes out, grabbing my arm and pulling me close. "Why the hell am I so nervous?" Her eyes search mine.

"Hell if I know," I state. "You take the stage all the time and basically get naked in front of strangers."

"Right?" she asks, nodding. "So why is this freaking me out?"

"Maybe you have on too much clothing," I offer. "Maybe if you just wear a corset and underwear…" I shrug, letting my sentence die off at the look Liza's leveling on me.

"Okay, so you stay clothed." I put my hands up. "Geesh, I'm just trying to help."

"Liza…" Mia approaches wearing dark skinny jeans, bright green sequined converse, and a baggy, shimmery green tank top with a black leather bandu bra beneath. Her makeup is the heaviest I've ever seen on her.

"It's okay to be nervous," she continues, "but you really have nothing to worry about. It's the same thing you do all the time—just a bigger crowd."

"Not helping." Liza shakes her head, biting her lip.

I grab Liza's shoulders and turn her toward me.

"Step on the stage and flip the switch," I order, our eyes locked.

Her mouth opens to say something, but I cut her off.

"Flip the switch, MizLiz." I grin. "They won't know what fucking hit them."

Liza's mouth snaps shut and the small glimmer in her eye tells me she's good.

With a nod from her, I release her into Mia's care. They leave the room along with the rest of Hush, The Forgotten exiting close on their heels—all except Corrosive Velocity. They stay behind, waiting for a stage assistant to call them out to the stage wings.

Hush will go on right after a local band Red recruited finishes as the opening set. The Forgotten will come on next, and then, we're supposed to end with Corrosive Velocity, but Red worked out multiple duets, band-merging performances, and guest performers for different towns. Tonight, we have Big Kam coming onstage at the end for a performance that will include Corbin Crowne's guitar skills and Liza's backup vocals.

I can feel his eyes on me. They've been on me since I sat down at this desk with my cell phone, two-way radio, and laptop. Twice, I'd given him my middle finger without looking at him. Twice, he's laughed, confirming the eye stalking.

I excuse myself to change out of my dirty jeans and t-shirt, and freshen up. In clean clothing and happy my time spent straightening my hair wasn't wasted—the usually unmanageable mess is actually still sleek and somewhat shiny—I emerge.

"Nice," Xavier says, getting my attention.

He licks his bottom lip and rakes his eyes over my body, taking in the thigh-length pleather skater skirt and quarter-sleeve black cotton shirt tucked into it.

His reddish blond hair is loose, covering the buzzed sides of his head and the tattoos decorating it. The strands brush over his black cotton covered shoulders. It looks so soft. In fact, I know exactly how his hair feels.

Remembering our time at the cabin, I straighten my spine in an attempt to fight the lust threatening to make me shiver.

As I walk by, he tugs at the hem of my skirt, and says, "Like this a lot."

Heat prickles across my thighs, going straight to Xena.

"But those shoes…" he trails off.

I look down at the simple black heels and frown. They aren't five-inch stilettos like Liza can maneuver. Instead, they're a three and a half inch heel with one black strap across my toes and another buckled around my ankle. When I asked Liza to help me put together outfits that would be good for all the after concert PR stuff, my only argument was not to put me on stilts. Some big girls can pull that shit off—not me.

"What's wrong with my shoes?" I move my frown to him.

"They shouldn't be on the floor," he finishes.

Wrinkling my forehead, I raise one brow, ready to go toe to toe with him.

"And where the hell should they be?" I snap.

"On my shoulders, digging in my back, or even my ass," he explains, a naughty spark to his words.

Randy and Corbin both snort from the sofa against the wall. The glare I send them shuts them up, but doesn't wipe the smiles off their face.

My body gives a girl-fuck-him-now clench.

Ignoring the urge, I force myself back to my laptop, cross my legs, and squeeze my thighs together.

Damn him and his sexy innuendos.

The concert's website is blowing up, with the help of Kel and his team posting video clips and photos. Donations have started pouring in and the list for the 'thank you' videos is getting hard to maintain. Grabbing my camera, concert designated cell phone, and personal phone, I push away from the desk.

"Hey, can you guys do a couple 'thank you' messages to the people donating on the website?" I ask, spinning around and looking at anyone except Xavier.

"Sure can," he drawls.

Xavier, Corbin, and Randy stand and group together in front of me. Using the list on my cell, they record eight video messages before a stage assistant arrives to escort them out. At the same time, I get a message from Kel telling me Liza is about to go on with Mia.

I give a quick thank you, shut my laptop, and hurry to the main stage.

"Excuse me," I say, pushing through the throngs of people.

"Hey," one of the scantily clad women whines when I bump into her.

"Yeah, sorry about that," I shout back over my shoulder.

Only a few feet from the hall to the stage wing, a large group clusters in front of me.

"Excuse me," I shout, but they don't hear me…or they ignore me.

"Out of the way," booms over my head and the crowd parts.

The heat of his body fills my back and the grip of his strong hands burns through the cotton on my biceps.

The crowd parts and he guides me toward the stage, his chest to my back. I make it just in time to watch Liza descend from a ten-foot-high platform.

One hand on the stair railing, the other wrapped around a microphone, her voice accompanies Mia's during the chorus. Then, comes her solo. She gives the screaming crowd the raw, gritty opening note when she reaches stage level. Mia's grin is manic as she shreds away on her green Kermit the Frog guitar.

Pride fills me, watching Liza own the stage and audience just like I knew she could.

Xavier's hands slide up my arms to my shoulders, reminding me he's still touching me.

Giving into a weak moment, I let his thumbs put pressure at the base of my neck and slide up to my hairline. When they sweep back down, I pull away.

"Personal space," I shout over my shoulder, side-stepping a couple feet .

In my peripheral, I see him standing to my side. I can also feel him staring at me.

"What?" I snap on a shout, unable to take the way he's affecting me.

He takes three steps toward me.

"What, what?" he responds loudly.

"What are you staring at?" I yell.

Bringing us only a few inches apart, he leans down into my face.

"You," he says.

"Well, stop," I demand, turning my head back toward the stage.

"Nope," he states, closer to my ear.

Fighting the shiver I don't want him to see, I focus on Mia and Liza harmonizing on a new Hush song. By how awesome they sound, I'm sure Nobil Records will be putting these two in a studio together soon.

The feeling of his breath in my hair pulls me from my thoughts.

He's still close—too close—and staring.

"Oh my God," I shout, "why are you still staring at me?"

He gives a shrug, and says, "I'm mentally undressing you."

My body ignites from his words, but two can play this game.

I cock an eyebrow at him, and say, "Well, don't mess up my hair. It takes hours to flat iron this mess."

Feeling super satisfied, I turn back toward the performance, fighting the urge to high-five myself.

"No promises," he says against the side of my head. "I'm already picturing this," he runs his fingers through my hair, "wrapped around my fist."

My mouth drops open on a moan.

Please let the music be too loud for him to have heard that.

A stage assistant breaks the moment, requesting Xavier follow him backstage.

Xavier straightens away from me.

I look up at him and give him a fake pout lip while wiggling my fingers, exaggerating my goodbye.

With Liza off stage and The Forgotten about to begin, I find a better spot and watch the show. I get enthralled by the performance for forty minutes before making my rounds, taking pictures, tweeting, posting on Instagram, and updating the website.

Over an hour and a half later, I drag myself back to the dressing room with my laptop set up. I've got pictures to upload, the donation site to check, and a full list of things to follow up on.

My camera gives me a corruption error twice before finally loading the photos, but then it loads them to the wrong folder and I have to move them. As soon as I get them uploaded to the file sharing site we have set up with the PR company, I get a battery dying error.

"Seriously, could anything else fuck up?" I growl.

The door to the room opens and I twist in my chair as Xavier enters with two scantily clad women right behind him.

"Xavier, you were so amazing," one coos.