Page 26 of Grip Me Tight
“What is?”
“Someone just slid the day’s schedule under my door.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” A text dings on my phone. Cautiously, I look at it, but I don’t recognize the number. It’s a time change for the rehearsal today. “Claire, I’ve got to go, the stage check is happening earlier. I want to see some of the background stuff and I’m still in joggers.”
“Who cares? It’s just the stage check. Unless you’re looking to impress someone?”
“I want to look professional,” I say, mentally cataloguing what’s in my suitcase.
“Uh-huh.”
“Claire…”
“I’m not saying a word. But I want all the details soon.”
“Details about what?”
“Whatever is happening with you and the world’s sexiest man.”
“You’re impossible. Going to change now.”
“You love me.”
“I do. Talk soon.”
A couple of hours later, I know the minute he walks into the arena. The air crackles with his energy and everyone takes notice. Tall and commanding, he strides onto the stage like a king, conversations hushing around him, while minions scatter to do his bidding. He never raises his voice, and in fact, he doesn’t need to. Everyone is waiting on his every gesture, breath collectively held while he and the rest of the band test their instruments, view the lighting and stage directions and run through the audio. A single wince from Tanner as he removes his ear monitors sends one of the sound engineers running.
As I watch from the sidelines, I take a few shots with my phone. Tanner has a silk scarf wrapped around his neck and it should look silly, like an affectation from a diva, but the navy-blue silk emphasizes his deep tan and black hair and I have naughty thoughts about how the silk might feel against my wrists, still warm from his skin.
I push those thoughts away. One night only. I am not going to be the love-sick girl hoping for a few crumbs to get thrown her way. I need to forget the way he touched me, the sweet, filthy words he said and the way he held me after. He probably has the whole routine on repeat. The thought makes me a little sick, but really, how else does someone get that good? Practice. I’m no one special, even if he made me felt that way when our eyes met in the darkness just before the sky lit up overhead with fireworks.
But then the night was over and the next morning he was back to his usual distant self. Every now and then I think I felt him staring at me, a prickle of awareness I didn’t want to study too closely. I can be cool and pretend our hook-up was just for fun. A culmination of the extremely slow burn from teenage crush to adult lust and now it’s done and over, and he goes back to being the mysterious, second coming of Jim Morrison without the very public vices.
“Hey New Girl. Feeling overwhelmed yet?”
I turn to see Emil sliding two cameras around his neck. With his tall, lanky build, dark hair and heavy, black-rimmed glasses, he looks like an updated version of Clark Kent. His bright yellow Chuck Taylors are the only spot of color on him, from his black sweater and jeans, to his dark denim cross-body camera bag. He grins at me. “You look a million miles away.”
Nope, only a few thousand between here and the lake house where Tanner Steele made me lose my mind with his talented tongue. I give myself a mental shake and smile. “Not overwhelmed, just mentally composing a blurb for a black and white rehearsal shot.”
“Ohh, good instincts.” He lifts his camera, framing the shot.
Everyone I’ve met so far is amazing. Avery, the woman I’m shadowing is very friendly, taking the time to go over details and schedules even though we’re smack in the middle of busy-town with two back-to-back shows. The crew is great, and I seem to hit with off with Emil, who I understand will be my partner in crime, as we set up the narrative for the tour. After so many years of being the sick kid, seeing the others whisper about me when I did show up for school, being able to attend university where no one knew my history was an opportunity to reinvent myself. And now I have another chance to do it here and I’m eager to wade into the whole experience.
“It’s actually pretty exciting to see all the background stuff. I love the little nuances I’m seeing, the way the stage is built for the show, all the people it takes to keep something like this running.”
Emil tilts his head to the side, sparing me a glance while he lines up another photo. “You haven’t gotten a chance to be a part of it before? Isn’t Noah your brother?”
I sigh. I had kind of hoped that wouldn’t be the first thing people thought when they saw me because I wanted people to get to know me, not Guitar-Hero’s baby sister, but Noah announced it to everyone the very first opportunity he got.
I’m pretty sure it was half-introduction and half-warning to stay away, especially when he loudly proclaimed it among a group of tech roadies who’d just invited me into one of the vans for a drink. I need my family to trust I’m capable of taking care of myself and I can’t make friends if people are too nervous around me because I’m Noah’s kid sister.
“He is, but I was barely eighteen when Kingmaker signed, and I’ve been away at school. Despite Noah and Kingmaker, my life hasn’t been very rock and roll, if you know what I mean.” I roll my eyes. “Over-protective brother and over-protective parents. I love them to pieces, though.”
Emil laughs. “That sounds both awesome and frustrating. I left home at sixteen and L.A. is a hard town to grow up in. I’ve met your dad, and Noah and Tanner are so lucky to have had him helping along the way. I guess you are too.”
I wag my finger. “Girls are different, unfortunately. Dad thinks I’m going to succumb to some tragic partying.”
