Who He Is (FireNine, book 1) (3 page)

The first show was amazing. Gage’s vocal chords were like no other. He had a distinct voice that would let you know it was him from a mile away. It was undeniably beautiful. The way his lips parted and barely touched the microphone. The way he sang softly when the bass would drop. I just wanted to get wrapped up in it—tangled between his words. If I were someone who went through with her own thoughts, I would’ve dragged him off stage just to be alone with him. He sang with such grace it almost seemed unreal. He smiled behind the mic so much—so playfully—I couldn’t help but smile with him. He was flirting with the crowd, blowing air kisses, grabbing hands of miscellaneous FireNine fangirls.

As soon as the boys performed their last set, they pushed through the curtain to get backstage. Roy Sykes and Montana Delray stepped back first. Montana was the bassists and had blond hair that was cut and gelled into a spiky mohawk. His right eyebrow and the right corner of his bottom lip were pierced with studs, and from what I’d heard, he was the showboat of them all. He craved the attention, knowing he could never get more than Gage did. In my perspective, Gage was hotter, but Montana was extremely close.

“We’ve got a live one back here already,” Montana said, his eyes hard on me as he placed his red bass guitar against a crate. “I call dibs.”

He winked at me, but I swallowed hard, keeping my chin up. Ben told me not to look weak in front of the boys, and I was following through with his advice. I hadn’t been introduced to any of the boys except Gage. He repeated over and over how the boys loved to tease, and I had to suck it up and deal with it because they never held back.

Montana stepped toward me, his light-blue eyes
lax and observing me in my skinny jeans and white blouse Ben and I bought during our shopping spree for the tour. “Can I get a name?” he asked, pierced eyebrow lifting.

“Eliza Smith.”

“Eliza Smith,” he repeated, grinning as he rolled my name off his tongue. “I like that. Cute.”

I sighed and took a step back. Montana’s eyes narrowed as he stared at me. “What brings you backstage? Which one of us were you hoping to run into?”

Just as he asked, Gage came stumbling back with Dedrick Parsley, aka Deed P., the drummer, along with a whopping of screaming and shouting from the overly excited FireNine fans. As soon as Gage caught sight of Montana near me, his head slanted. “What’s up?” he asked, looking from me to Montana.

“I called dibs,” Mont
ana stated, smiling. “She’s cute.”

“I’m not a pick for tonight, Montana,” I told him
, lifting my hands and shrugging. “Sorry.”

“You aren’t? What
are you, then?”

“I’m only back here because
my
dad is
your
manager.”

Montana’s eyes stretched and Gage chuckled, clapping Montana’s shoulder. “Step off, Montana. Even if she were a
n after-party groupie, I’d be the one calling dibs. Not you.”

“Oh, you think so?”

“Know so, buddy.”

Montana snorted a laugh and then took a step back. “Let’s hear it from Miss Eliza. If you were a groupie, who would you be waiting for right now?”

I hesitated as all eyes turned on me. Even Roy and Deed looked at me, waiting for an answer. I had to remain confident. I wanted to keep the teasing atmosphere going so I said, “Roy Sykes. I find him handsome and unique among you all.”

Gage’s eyes widened and Montana yelled, “Hilarious!” while chuckling.

Roy stared at me, his dark eyes wider than I’d ever seen them beneath his shaggy hair, and then he turned around, clutching his guitar a little too tightly, causing his knuckles to pale. My smile fell rapidly as he hurried for his dressing room and slammed the door shut behind him.

“She’s funny as hell. I like her,” Montana said, still laughing. “Don’t mind Roy. It’s been a while since he’s had a girl. He’s the weird one, if you haven’t noticed already.”

“Yeah.” I forced a laugh, but I couldn’t help but worry for Roy. I didn’t think I said anything bad.

Montana turned around and trailed off to his dressing room. “Time to get ready for the real ladies, then!” he hollered right before slamming his door behind him.

Deed and Gage were still standing in front of me, and as Deed realized how awkward it was becoming, he ran a hand through his cropped, gelled black hair and turned around, his drumsticks still in hand. Deed was more slender than the other boys. I was sure he had a nice body as well; he just seemed a bit more boyish than the others.

“Yeah, so, I’m just gonna… go.” He hesitated, switching glances between me and Gage. He then hurried down the hall and his door clicked shut behind him. Gage watched him disappear before chuckling and
looking at me again.

“Did I say something wrong?” I asked.

“Like Montana said, Roy’s the weird one. He doesn’t like to deal with compliments… or girls.” He laughed. “He likes to remain
ghostly
.”

“Oh.” I figured that was kind of impossible since he
was the lead guitarist and all, but whatever.

“It’s funny, though, Ellie.” Gage sighed, taking a step toward me. “I thought you were going to pick me.” He reached up, placing a finger on my chin, and as his skin connected with mine, my breath hitched. A zap of lightning st
ruck my core, causing me to practically melt. I’d never known what it would be like for him to touch me, for his liquid eyes to only be on mine. It was a feeling I wanted to hang on to forever. He was so close I could smell his cologne—spicy, yet pleasing to the senses. Gage then tapped my chin twice, his eyes hard on me. “But since you’re a bigger fan of Roy… well… all I can say is good luck with that.” He winked, pulling his warm, slightly calloused fingers away. The fire that had ignited within me died down with each step he took.

His walk was dangerous
ly sexy—his shoulders broad, hips swinging in a completely mannish way. He rounded a corner, disappearing out of sight, and I sighed, releasing the nervous air trapped in my lungs. He’d left me completely breathless with just the touch of his fingers. I didn’t know how the hell he did it, but I wasn’t going to deny the fact that I enjoyed it. I was just never going to let him know it. I didn’t want him to figure out how he could have any control over me just by being near me.

“Liza!” Ben’s voice called from behind me. I turned to find him marching toward me, a bright smile on his lips. “Don’t be upset with me,” he said, grinning as he stopped less than an inch
from me, “but we’ve decided to rent a VIP room at a club for the boys. I have some business to handle while we’re in New Mexico so I won’t be there, but I thought it’d be fun for you to hang with them for a while.”

“Um, no.”
I shook my head, staring into Ben’s eyes that would have been identical to mine if they were blue instead of warm chocolate-brown. “That’s not happening. I think I’ll just stay on the bus.”

“Um, no,” he mimicked, “you’re not. That’s not what you came on this tour for and it won’t be an option tonight. You came to live it up a little, am I correct? To have fun?”

“Yeah, but you know I don’t do clubs, Ben.” Plus, knowing Gage was going to be there was bothering me already. I couldn’t be at a club while he was around. I didn’t want to find out what else he could do with those hands.

“Well, tonight will be a first night for everything. I bought you a nice dress and it’s in my dressing room. I have the keys to the tour bus, and I ordered our driver to take you straight to the club no matter how much you beg him to take you to the bus. A pretty big tip came in handy.” Ben winked, but I
gave him the evil eye.

“You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack, sweetie. Have some fun tonight.” He squeezed my shoulders, his eyes sympathetic. “You can legally drink now so I guess I can’t tell my baby girl to stay out of trouble anymore.” He pulled away, checking his watch before stepping backward and spinning around. “I have to get going, but you know where the truck is. Don’t get too crazy, and if you need anything, call me!” he called, winking over his shoulder.

I watched Ben walk down the hall and slip out the exit door. I couldn’t believe him. He was forcing me to stay out. Clubbing and partying was never my thing. I just couldn’t get down with the drinking and the jumping around. Seeing it on TV had always given me a headache.

I couldn’t understand why he wanted me to get out so badly and I wouldn’t have minded so much if I weren’t going to be in a VIP section full of guys—a fucking rock band! A band with Gage Grendel as the lead singer. I could only put up with his flirting for so long. My confidence levels weren’t high enough for me to endure it for an entire night.

I was definitely shit out of luck with this club situation.

I couldn’t have felt more embarrassed.

Even my driver was stunned by what I wore. Going from a blouse and skinny jeans to a skintight silver halter-top dress that stopped mid-thigh and revealed all legs was obviously shocking to him—hell, it was shocking to me! It was complete chagrin.

I wanted so badly to hide out in the dressing room. If the lights weren’t shut off and I wasn’t told the arena would be closing in ten minutes, I’d probably still be there. Had I not been chicken-shit and afraid of how dark and quiet it had become, I still would have stayed. But I swear I heard chains rattling at one point. I had to get out of the dressing room before a murderer showed up and strangled me. I guess the club was a better and safer place than a possible murder scene… maybe.

Tugging my dress down
with one hand while gripping the door handle of the truck with the other, I sighed and breathed roughly through my nostrils. I wasn’t sure what was in store, but by the bass of the music and the long line of people waiting outside the door, I knew to expect what I’d always seen on TV and in movies… maybe worse.

“What time should I come back?” Marco, my chauffeur, asked before I could shut the door. His eyes scanned my backside and I scowled at him as he met my gaze.

“Don’t,” I muttered, slamming the door in his face. I had never worn anything this revealing in my life. I would have chosen my T-shirts and loose jeans any day over this display of skin.

The music
boomed as I trudged forward in my six-inch heels. I finally figured out my dress wasn’t going to reveal my ass, so I stopped tugging on it as I carried myself across the pavement. I told the bouncer at the door who I was and who I was with, and after he checked his clipboard and nodded his head, I was inside the club.

Rave lights danced across the night scene. A few women wore glowing necklaces and held sloshing drinks in their hands. The music was loud and catchy—something I would most likely listen to during one of my fast-paced painting days. It wasn’t so bad… at least not yet.

I spotted Montana standing at the bar and rushed in his direction. It was a battle getting myself through the crowd. People were everywhere, grooving, shimmying, and gyrating. It boggled my mind that anyone could move so much at such a fast pace. Montana was leaning over the counter as I got closer. A female bartender giggled in front of him as she handed him a beer. He tucked a tip into her cleavage and she licked her lips, grinning and winking before he turned around.

“Montana!” I yelled after him before he could get away. He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing until he caught sight of me. He paused in his tracks,
scanning me with his eyes from head to toe, making me more and more self-conscious.

“Hi,” I breathed out as I met up with him.

“Hot damn, Eliza. Look at you,” he said, still drinking me in.

I fidgeted before him but kept my chin up. “I’m looking for the VIP section. Just got here and would love to sit down. My feet are killing me.”

He laughed, looking down at my heels. “I bet. Come on.” Draping an arm across my shoulders, he turned around and made his way through the crowd.

“Oh my God, it’s Montana Delray!” a girl squealed to her friend. I looked up and Montana winked, but he didn’t stop to speak.

“This must make you feel important,” I said over the music.

“Nah.” He shrugged as we neared double glass doors. “It’s not as exciting as it used to be.”

I nodded as if I understood, and he grabbed the silver handle of the door to swing it open. The VIP room was nice. There were white leather couches against the wall, a table already set up with drinks in the middle, and the same music from the dance floor flowed out separate speakers.

“Welcome to the VIP room,” Montana said. He grabbed the door handle again and stepped back out. “Help yourself to the drinks. I’ve got some fun to have.”

I watched him walk away and then turned to look ahead. No one was inside except Deed P. and a girl sitting on his lap. I don’t know why I worried about Gage’s whereabouts, but I was hoping to actually see him—just to admire him from a distance.

The music
grew louder from behind me as I took a step forward. A soft breeze brushed across my bare legs and a warm hand pressed against the small of my back, and that’s when I figured out why it had gotten so loud.

Gage Grendel was step
ping into the VIP room, his hazel eyes mellow and a warm smirk on his lips. His hair seemed sort of different and I couldn’t figure out why. It was hotter—still messy, but hotter. As the door shut behind him, his lips stretched even more. “What brings you here? You don’t seem like the kind of girl who likes to get down and party,” Gage said, his eyes slightly confused.

I sighed.
“I… uh… yeah… this isn’t what I was up for tonight.” He narrowed his eyes at me, obviously in need of a better response. “Ben forced me to come out,” I explained. “I’m not really a party person.”

“W
ell, maybe we can change that for tonight.”

“How?”

“We can start with a drink,” he said, lifting his hand and gesturing to the table. “We have beer, margaritas… or if you like the hard stuff, some whiskey, tequila, and vodka.”

My lips pressed into a line. “I don’t drink.”

“Damn. Sucks. You should definitely make an exception.” He leaned forward, his teeth glistening from the dim lighting above. His cologne filled my lungs and was even more alluring than before. He had on a completely different outfit from earlier—a horizontally striped blue-and-white muscle T-shirt, dark-blue jeans that weren’t too skinny, and his usual black-and-white Chuck Taylor’s on his feet.

I took a step back, realizing how close he was, and
then looked at the table. I never drank before, but maybe Ben was right. I wanted to have fun while on the tour and try new things. Why not let loose a little with someone like Gage Grendel? I knew I would never go too far with him, so I simply nodded and faced him.

“What would you have?” I asked.

With a grin, he pressed his hand against the small of my back and my skin tingled beneath the warmth. The hairs on my back pricked and my skin crawled in the most delightful way. He led the way toward the table and grabbed a shot glass of clear liquid.

“It’s not about me,” he said. “For you, I suggest a shot of vodka.” He handed the glass to me and I took it. “That is, if you’re really looking for fun.” Gage then grabbed another shot glass for himself and a part of me was relieved because I didn’t want to drink alone. “Let’s see. What should we make a toast to?” he asked.

“Um… for a rockin’ tour?” I asked, slightly wincing at how corny I sounded.

“That could work,”
he said, nodding as his lips pressed to form a smile. “We could also give it up to getting acquainted, becoming great friends, and for two months full of diehard fun?”

I giggled as his eyes softened. Who knew Gage could be just as charming as he is sexy? “That sounds great.”

“All right, to a rockin’ tour… and all that other shit I said before.” He smiled, we clinked glasses, and then I swallowed it down, and right after I pulled the shot glass from my lips, my throat burned. I was desperate to get something to cool it down with. With wide eyes, I looked from Gage to the table and picked up the tall glass of water on the edge. I took huge swallows while Gage and Deed laughed.

“You’ve got an amateur on your hands!” Deed yelled, still chuckling. “Sure about this one, Gage?”

I ignored Deed’s comment, licking my lips and turning to face Gage, who was already looking at me. “Why is it so strong?” I gasped.

He laughed.
“How else will you feel it?”

I shrugged, placing my shot glass down. As I looked up, Gage was still watching me, his head cocked to the side. His eyes were
lax as he surveyed me from head to toe. “Have you ever danced before?” he asked, licking his lips.

As I fixed my mouth
to tell him no, someone pulled open the glass door of the VIP room and stepped in. Her legs were the first thing I took in—long, tanned, glossy, toned… way better looking than my pale limbs could have ever been. Her red dress fit to every curve of her body. Glossy red lipstick was on her full lips and her hair was a deep brown, curly, and styled nicely against her shoulders. Her heels were a fierce red with a black tip. She put me to shame as she stepped forward with a warm smirk on her lips. I was even more humiliated as she hooked her arm around Gage’s waist and he looked down at her.

Something seemed to crack inside me then. I didn’t like how she’d come out of nowhere and put her hands all over him. It was rude, especiall
y while we were talking. I should have expected it from the lead singer of a band, but when he didn’t pull away—when he smiled back at her—I backed off and took a step away, grabbing another shot glass.

“Who’s your friend?” the girl asked. Great, even her voice sounded like harmonious bells.

“This,” Gage said, pulling the girl in tighter, “is Ellie.”

“Eliza,” I corrected.

Gage’s eyes broadened. “Eliza,” he whispered. “Smith.”

“Oh. Nice to meet you, Eliza,” the girl said. “I’m Penelope Binds, Gage’s girlfriend.”

Girlfriend?
If it were possible for the DJ to feel my emotions, the music would have scratched to a stop in the background.

“Nice to meet you,” I murmured, reaching a hand out to her. I couldn’t be immature. I didn’t even know why I expected Gage to be single. He was hot; of course there was going to be someone glued to his hip.

“Gage, I wanna dance,” Penelope whined, poking out her bottom lip. I rolled my eyes and turned around. It was worse than I thought.

“Let’s go, then. Oh
, and Ellie,” Gage called. I turned slowly, my eyebrows elevated. “Have fun tonight.” He winked, taking Penelope’s hand in his. My eyes followed them as they pushed out the glass door and disappeared within the crowd. A few girls squealed at the sight of Gage, but security guards stepped in the way, making sure they didn’t get too close to him.

I sighed
deeply because that just made my night even worse. Staring down at the shot of vodka in my hand, I finally decided to down it and grab another. I didn’t drink, but I wanted to have fun. I wanted to forget about what I’d just seen. My mom always told me drinking gets rid of the problems, but she was part of the reason I never wanted to touch alcohol in my life. Ben would offer wine, but I never took it. This was the night to be different, though. I had to find out if what my mom always said was true, even though she was a terrible influence.

I
looked at the door and in came Roy Sykes. He’d changed into a black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing the stretch of ink on his masculine arms and hands. His shaggy hair hung in his dark-brown eyes, and his jeans were black as well. His arms were just as pale as mine and covered with ink, but it fit Roy. He was really hot… just weird as hell.

As he spotted me, he came to a screeching halt, gripping the door handle a little too
firmly, his knuckles turning pale. His eyes stretched and then he took a step back. He took a few more steps back and I stared at him, completely lost. What was he so afraid of? Was he still upset about earlier?

Roy finally turned around and dashed away. The door shut behind him, but I could still see him making a beeline through the bodies.

“Maybe you should go out on the dance floor,” Deed said. His smile seemed kind of eerie, but I blamed it on the dim lighting above him. “It would make your night. Trust me.”

“And how do you know this?” I asked, giving him a small smile.

He chuckled. “Because dancing frees the soul, girl. It sets you loose. Makes you do things you never thought you could do.” He placed his hand against the small of the girl’s back and whispered something into her ear. She poked her bottom lip out but nodded, standing from his lap. As she walked by, she grimaced at me. She then opened the door and sauntered out and Deed came up to me. “Would you like me to dance with you?”

“No—Deed, that’s sweet of you, but I’ve never danced before and—”

“Eliza, is it?” he asked, cutting me off midsentence as he reached for another shot glass.

I nodded, pulling my bottom lip in to bite on it. He handed me the glass and I took it. He then grabbed a glass for himself.