Stand (Black Addiction Book 3) (10 page)

Don’t get me wrong. I loved the band. Joey, Rusty and Angie were all amazing in their own individual way and over time, we’d all become tight. They’d never made me feel like the “girlfriend” and happily welcomed me into their circle. Even Angie who had the best resting bitch face ever.

But.

When I’d waved goodbye to my old life they had also been part of the separation. Clean break being what it was it didn’t make sense to continue to see them. Even though I had separate and meaningful relationships with each of them independent of Max. So the not seeing them was partly guilt—fine, a LOT—related.

The sending the wrong signal thing was valid too. Of course they would assume we were back together. Why wouldn’t they? We’d only been down this road five thousand times.

“So let me go over this just to be sure I’ve got it.” Jules tried to reason with my logic. “Your ex-boyfriend is not only hot but turned out to be a huge rock star.”

“Yes.” I had no idea where this was going, but I was willing to humor her.

“And he wasn’t a dick who broke your heart.” Fingers were lifted for visual cues in case I couldn’t keep up.

“Yes.” So
maybe
I knew where she was going with this.

“And he wasn’t even pissed when you tried to kill him.” More fingers were added. “Not only once, but twice.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And he has a huge—”

“Can we move to the point already.”

“But even with all of that.” She waved her hands around like a lunatic. “You don’t want to date him. Do you see how insane this all sounds?”

Well yeah, when she put it like that. “We had a good thing, I don’t want to ruin it.”

“Girl, I’m telling you, none of this makes any sense.” Jules refused to buy my—fine, probably convoluted—argument that Max and I shouldn’t get back together.

Except.

No, the sex didn’t mean we were back together. We were definitely not back together.

“Well sense or not, I need to think of a good reason not to go tonight and you are going to help me.”

“
You moved in with
Beth?”

Angie let me get an entire three steps into the bar, the usual
hello
apparently obsolete, as she went into mother hen mode. The douchebag who was most likely responsible for the misconception tipped his chin hello.

“I didn’t move in with Beth. I moved into her building.” The conversation I planned on having with my band happening a little sooner than expected.

“Dude, I’m sleep deprived.” Joey rolled his eyes like I was the asshole, and having a few hours less shuteye was a good enough excuse to spill my biz. “I can’t be held responsible for what comes out of my mouth.”

“So are you guys getting back together?” Angie was front and center on the mission: acquiring information, the to-and-fro between Joe and I not registering on her radar.

“If I have anything to say about it, yeah we are.” It was the condensed version and one no doubt Angie was after. She was a long-story-short kind of girl and I admired the quality.

“Who’s doing what?” Rusty breezed in pulling a Top Gun, gold-framed aviators chilling on his face despite it being already dark out and the smooth motherfucker was indoors. “You’re supposed to wait till I get here before you get to all the gossip.” The asshole flashed his Hollywood grin as he nodded to Angie and Joey. Fucking lead guitarists, cocky sons-of-bitches.

“Max and Beth are getting back together.” Joey didn’t bother letting me do the fill-in, his big-ass mouth talking shit out of turn.

“Dude, seriously?” The shut-the-fuck-up I was directing his way hopefully coming in loud and clear.

“I can’t help it.” Again Joey went with shifting blame. “At least I didn’t say you guys were living together this time.” The bastard grinned knowing full well he was stirring the pot.

Wonder how long it would take to get a replacement drummer for the night. We were going to need it, because I was going to kill this one.

“Well then the day just got a whole lot more interesting.” Rusty rubbed his hands together with motherfucking glee, the shades coming off as he settled in. “I’m gonna need some details.”

Better to get it over with. It was either do the show-and-tell myself, or have my moron of a best friend sham-wow us with his fairytale adaptation of events. Not wanting to leave my little niece fatherless, the only reason why the bastard was still breathing.

“The apartment I recently moved into happens to be a few floors up from Beth. Something I didn’t know when I bought it.” There was no need for the extended dance version of how it came to be, the core facts being more than sufficient.

“Max, I’m kinda crushed, dude.” Blond Maverick, AKA Rusty Crawford clutched at his chest laying the dramatics on real thick. “You’ve been living there over a week and I’m just now hearing about it. Dead to me, asshole.”

“I swear this was a lot more fun when it was directed at someone else.” I shook my head knowing karma had a big black rubber stamp with my name on it. The amount of shit I had dished out to the other three of my band members had me primed for a serious amount of payback.

So cliff-noting our initial welcome-to-the-neighborhood through to the last twenty-four hours, I got the band up to speed on how I was now sharing an almost identical address with the chick I dated for more than a decade.

“She’s coming to the show tonight and I want everyone on their best behavior.” I eyed them all equally, being sure there was no one who could claim the oh-sorry-I-didn’t-hear. “No fucking third degree, especially you Angie.” Our front woman notorious for going full metal jacket.

“What could I possibly say?” Her freaking grin proved how right I was to be suspicious. Seriously, the lot of them were a bunch of loose cannons, and I wasn’t sure who was the weakest link.

Usually the band didn’t get involved in my relationships, but Beth had been a little different. She’d been more than just a girl I’d dated; she’d been friends with each of them in her own special way. Not that anyone had any grounds to harbor bad feelings. Sure, she’d blown out of town with no goodbye but we’d all—especially yours truly—had time to find her if we’d wanted. And if I had no problem with the way shit had played out, then the band didn’t have grounds for issues either. And if they wanted to get technical, we hadn’t even been together when I left town, so there was no way I’d let them give her a hard time for it.

“Whatever. Play nice.”

***

Waiting to go on was giving me the scratch. We had been hiding out backstage like a bunch of shady SOBs looking to rob the joint. Of course mingling with the general population would ruin the
ta-dah
moment when we jumped out of the shadows and blew the doors off the place. Which is why I had absolutely no idea if Beth was one of the faceless bodies on the dance floor or if she’d pulled a no-show and the back of my neck was sweating for no good reason.

“You want Ali to look for her, dude?” Rusty’s heavy hand landed hard on my shoulder as we both looked out into the abyss. “She can scan the room and report back.”

“She doesn’t know what she looks like.” Sadly, the only thing that stopped me from agreeing.

“Digital age, my friend. We grab her picture from her Facebook profile, and text it to Alison. It’s at most a five minute operation.” The smug bastard pulled out his iPhone from his back pocket ready to go.

“Sure, that isn’t creepy.” Because getting eyestrain from staring into the dark was soooooooo much better. “I’m sure she’s out there, she said she would be.”

I’d checked my phone a few times, the lack of
sorry-I’m-washing-my-hair
text giving me hope she was right where she should be. Pity there was a gnarling feeling in my gut that hinted that she might not. I guess I’d find out soon enough.

“You ready to Cloak and Dagger the shit out of this place?” Rusty bounced around doing his usual pre-show routine, shadow punching and dancing on his feet De La Hoya pretty.

“So ready!” A Red Bull loaded Joey Shaw was pumped having shaken off the earlier fatigue. After shot gunning four of them, that come down was going to be a bitch.

“This is going to be so fucking cool.” Angie tucked away her phone, her pre-show routine of saying good night to her kid and husband over. The killed call signaled it was show time.

“Well then, let’s go.”

The four of us stepped onto the blackened stage, the house light just enough to keep people from running into each other and spilling drinks. The bar manager knew the minute our cover was blown there was going to be a text/social media frenzy that would rival any flash mob. Extra security was in place so shit didn’t get too out of control. And the excitement of getting up close and personal with the crowd had pushed aside other thoughts of whether a certain brunette was going to be among them.

Joey tapped his sticks, counting us in as Rusty and Angie hit matching opening cords. The lights that hung on the truss above swayed as the cans came to life, the speakers blasting the marriage of noise as we opened with one of our older tunes.

It hit the audience like a crash-cart, their feet stilled as their brains tried to register the what-the-fuck. But it only took a second with the resurrection of the noise loud enough to rival what was coming out of the amps.

Rusty was working his end of the stage, his fingers all over the fretboard while he oozed that rock god charm. The girls in the front row paying no mind to the fact Rus was happily off the market.

Angie was another matter. In front of the mic stand with none of the theatrics of our lead guitarist, slaying the audience with the pitch perfect tone while playing rhythm.

And Joey, well, you’ve all seen Animal from the Muppets right? It was like that, but in time.

My fingers moved along the nickel-wound strings of my bass, muscle memory doing its job as I scanned the crowd. A hundred or more brunettes, and not one of them the one that I wanted.

Well.

Fuck.

That really sucked.

I gave myself a second or two of licking my boo-boos before sacking up. The audience wasn’t here for love songs and dedications, and I was going to give them exactly what they had come to expect from Black Addiction. Pure rock with no BS.

I don’t think I could have performed any better if she’d been in front of me, the energy blasting out of me as I played the fuck out of my bass. The four of us moved through the set list, old songs and new getting equal time as the crowd spilled out onto the street.

And with the last song wrapped we took a group bow at the front of the stage and said goodnight to the over excited audience.

“Man, I could play another thirty songs.” Red Bull Joey was still riding high off the buzz. “It’s not better than sex, but a very close second.” He matched me stride for stride as we headed to the band room.

“I’m glad you revised your choice, asshole.” I punched him in the arm as Rus came up behind us, his hands giving us both a bro tap as he squeezed in between.

“Dump your shit and let’s get to the bar. I want drinks with our people, Angie is even staying for a few so there is no pussying out.” He gave us both a pointed look before bypassing the band room all together and heading straight to the public area. His interest in us and the conversation, obviously over.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about.” He raised his hands like a moron, his enthusiasm wasted seeing as it was only the two of us in the area. “We need to write material faster so we can tour again. I want to be doing this every fucking night.”

I neglected to point out that his feelings of euphoria were going to fade pretty fucking quick when his daughter wanted her daddy at six in the morning. The silent knowledge making me happier than I probably should be.

“Well we have another six of these local shows, so that should keep you satisfied for a while.” Keep us both happy, and feed the creativity as well.

Following Rusty’s directive, we
dumped our shit
and headed to the bar. The well-lubricated crowd hadn’t thinned, instead milling around sharing footage they’d captured on their phones while drinking. The welcoming hollers we received were almost as loud as when we’d been on stage, the slaps on the backs and
well dones
thrown at us from every direction.

“Beer.” I leaned over the bar, the dude with the 90’s No Fear shirt on behind it shaking his head when I handed over the cash. The drinks for the night were a gift from the management.

“I’d assume you’d be doing shots of Jäger?” A voice called from behind me, the owner of it the person I’d been dying to see all night. “Or are you slowing down in your old age?”

Seeing her standing there was a one-two punch straight to the jaw. She was flawless in a pair of fitted blue jeans, her tight black top doing jack shit to hide what was underneath despite not showing any naked flesh.

“I’m driving.” I ignored the other part of her statement because we both knew I was far from old. “But I have a bottle at home if you’re interested.” The grin widened all by itself as I moved closer to where she was standing, my interest in the beer forgotten.

“Oh he’s fucking smooth.” Her roommate who, up till now I hadn’t noticed, gave me a smile and a wink. “Good playing up there by the way, she barely looked at your ass.”

“Jules.” Beth cursed under her breath, shaking her head gently as the smile crept across her lips.

“Okay, okay it was me who was looking at your ass.” Jules rolled her eyes before giving me a nod of approval. “Two thumbs up.”

“Appreciated.” The head returned the nod, my eyes not moving from Beth. “You want to come say hi to the rest of the band?”

“Sure.” Beth’s eyes flicked to the left and the right, the rest of Black Addiction chilling over on the other side of the bar.

The addition of her friend wasn’t going to be a problem for me, and I was going to give her my greeting exactly how I’d wanted to.

“You look great.” My hands wrapped around her waist without waiting for the invitation. “I didn’t see you out there, I thought you decided not to come.”

“I was here the whole time, just at the back.” Beth stepped back out of my hold. “Right, Jules?”

“Yep, here the whole time,” Jules added, the need for a wingman obvious.

I wasn’t sure if it was the PDA or something else, but she was sending a blast of don’t-touch-me I didn’t understand. Especially when ten hours ago I was doing a lot more to her than giving her a hug.