Backstage Pass

Chapter 12

“I can’t wait to hear it. It sounded fantastic when you were screaming it at me.”

He beamed like a kid at Christmas. “Yeah, it’s good, I think.”

Myrna crawled from the bed, unsteady on her feet. “I still need to talk to the band. Should I wait until after you’ve gone through all your new music with them?”

“What do you want to talk to them about?”

“You’re included in this,” she said.

“In what?”

“I want the entire band to make the decision. So when we’re talking this over, I don’t want you to think of me as your lover.”

“Yeah, that’s possible.” He laughed. “Not!”

He set the sheets of music on the dresser near the door and wandered around the bed. He drew her naked body against his, hand sliding over the curve of her ass. “So tell me what this is about.”

She kissed his jaw. “I have to talk to all of you at once,” she insisted.

He pouted. “I’m not special?”

“In this case, no.”

He sighed. “All right, I’ll call this band meeting for you.” He found his discarded pants and slid into them, fastening them around his slim hips. “Get dressed. I’ll be back.”

He picked up his sheets of music and left the room shirtless and barefoot.

Myrna found the bags of items she’d purchased that morning and dressed in her new clothes. Cheap, but functional. Better than a suit. But a suit would have made her seem more professional when she asked the band for this favor. She searched the floor for her discarded suit and held it up, deciding if she should change into it. It was a wrinkly mess. The door opened. Brian peeked in.

“I’ve got the guys all together. You ready to talk to us?”

She smiled, tossing her suit on the bed. She slipped on the sandals she’d bought and searched for her purse to retrieve her grant acceptance letter. “Have you seen my purse?”

“I think it’s by the door.”

“Right. Thanks.”

She walked past him, dropping a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth. He closed the bedroom door and followed her. Locating her purse on a counter, she pulled the letter from inside. “Where are they?”

Brian stared at her bare throat above the flowing, green tank she wore. “You look hot.” A glazed look came to his eyes.

“Earth to Brian,” she said. “Your band members. Where are they?”

He closed his eyes and shook his head slightly. “On the other bus.”

Guitar music and boisterous conversation came from the open door of the second bus. Myrna climbed the stairs, nervous for some strange reason, and entered the vehicle. A large group of men stood, sat, or perched in a circle around the main room. She saw all the band members and several familiar faces from the show in Chicago. Roadies. Trey had an acoustic guitar in his hands and was strumming notes written across a piece of paper splattered with chocolate syrup.

Trey stilled his guitar strings. Heads turned and all eyes fell on Myrna. She flushed. “Hello.”

“Myrna!” Eric said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He was still wearing Brian’s hat. She bit her lip so she didn’t laugh.

Her eyes moved to Sed’s face. He sat in a captain’s chair watching her. He was undeniably the leader of this band. His presence radiated from his body like a monarch’s. If he said no, she was certain the rest of the band would take his side. Sed was the one she’d have to convince.

“You smell like Brian,” Eric said in her ear.

Her face hot, she pushed him away. Eric squeezed around her and sat beside Jace on the beige leather sofa.

“So what’s this about?” Trey asked, setting his guitar on the floor at his feet. He sat next to Jace on the sofa across from Sed. All the roadies watched her curiously. Brian wrapped an arm around her waist and she leaned against him for support.

She grasped the letter tighter. Why was she so nervous? She didn’t want Sed to tell her no, that’s why. She wanted a reason to… She glanced at Brian. He smiled gently, offering encouragement. Maybe it was better if they told her to get lost. She’d have a much easier time not falling for their lead guitarist.

She focused on Sed. “I have a favor to ask of you.”

“Anything, Myrna.” He seemed sincere.

“I need a million dollars to pay the ransom on my kidnapped poodle,” she said.

Sed’s jaw dropped.

She laughed. “Kidding.”

Brian burst out laughing. “Oh my God, did you see the look on his face?”

“f**k you, Sinclair,” Sed said.

“Sorry, Sed, I couldn’t resist,” Myrna said. “You looked so serious sitting there.”

“I respect you, Myrna,” he said, “or I did.”

Every male occupant on the bus stared at Sed with his mouth hanging open. Myrna wasn’t sure why his statement shocked them so much, but she pressed on. “In truth, it’s for work. My research.”

“Which part of me would you like to study?” Sed asked, grinning.

She flushed once again, flustered. The man was all alpha male. She didn’t think a woman existed who wouldn’t react to him.

“Your groupies.”

“I didn’t know you swung that way, Myr,” Eric said. “Can I watch?”

“You want to study my groupies?” Sed asked.

“Well, not just yours.” She glanced at each member of the band in turn. “Trey’s, Jace’s, Eric’s.” She looked up at Brian. “Brian’s.”

“I don’t get it,” Jace said.

“That’s because you don’t have any groupies,” Eric said, punching him hard in the arm. Jace shoved him. Eric climbed to his feet, his hands balled into fists. Myrna flinched.

“Knock it off, Eric,” Sed demanded.

Eric hesitated, glanced at Sed, and then plopped down on the sofa, his jaw flexing as he clenched his teeth together.

“Myr, what are you asking for?” Brian asked. “Specifically. I mean why do you need our permission to study our groupies? It’s not like they’re our property.”

They were, in a way, but that’s one of the things she planned to study. “Well… I was hoping I could go on tour with you for the summer.” She forced her eyes from Brian to Sed. “I know I’ll be a burden, but I’ll try to stay out of your way. The grant includes a stipend for the band for allowing me to travel with you and to cover my expenses—ten thousand dollars. You can have the entire sum.”

Sed laughed, his head thrown back, the deep sound rumbling through his broad chest. “You’ve got to be f*****g kidding me.”

Her hopes plummeted. She bit her lip and lowered her gaze. Why did her heart feel like a big lump of ice in her chest? It wasn’t that big of a deal. She could find another band. A less famous one that could use the money. She turned to leave and ran into Brian’s chest.

He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed. “I say she comes with us.”

Sed’s laughter trailed off. “Well, of course she’s coming with us. She’s your f*****g muse, Brian. I just can’t believe this amazing stroke of luck. She’s offering to pay us to help you write songs.”

She turned her head to look at Sed. “No, you’ve got it all wrong. I’m not doing this to stay with Brian. This is for work.”

Sed grinned. “Like the reason matters. Yeah, I say you’re welcome to tour with us. What do the rest of you say?”

Trey blew a huff of air through his lips. “Have you seen these licks Brian’s been writing?” He swept a hand toward the stack of music on the table. “I was prepared to kidnap her and her little dog. Yeah, she stays. Of course she stays.”

“No objection,” Jace said.

“I have one condition,” Eric said. He lifted a finger into the air.

“Whatever you’re going to ask, the answer is no,” Brian said.

“Damn.” He scowled. “But—”

“No.”

“Fine, since you insist, she’ll sleep in my bunk with me. The sacrifices I make for this band.”

Myrna shook her head at Eric in disbelief.

Brian took her chin between his finger and thumb and lifted her face to look at him. He searched her eyes and then lowered his head to kiss her. The grant letter tumbled from her fingers as she clung to the skin of his bare chest. Three months with Brian? Yeah, she might be able to handle that.

“It’s just a few more days, Brian,” she said into her cell phone as she walked to her car after work. “I have a bunch of things to take care of here first. I do have a life, you know.”

“It’s just… I’m going crazy with missing you.”

She smiled. “I miss you, too. Thanks for the flowers, by the way.”

“Flowers?”

“Don’t play coy. They were signed, See You Soon, so it had to be you. And how did you know gladiolas were my favorite flower?”

“I should have sent you flowers, but I can’t take credit. Who would send you flowers?”

“They weren’t from you?” She bit her lip. Who would send her flowers? Her parents maybe? Or one of her sisters?

“No, they weren’t from me. Is some bozo hitting on you?” He sounded more upset than he should be.

“Nah. Probably from my parents. So, where will you be on Saturday? I should be able to get out of town by then.” She unlocked her car and slid her laptop case across the front seat.

“Saturday? That’s five days away!”

“Friday night? I might be able to swing that, but it doesn’t look good. I need to pack. Get all my obligations in order. The work week doesn’t end until Friday and final grades are due tomorrow. I’ll be up all night grading.” She smiled to herself, knowing the reason for her being behind in her grading was on the other end of the line. Every minute spent with that reason was worth missing out on a night of sleep. “Be patient just a little longer. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“I just miss you.”

“Brian, we’ve only been apart for one night.”

“I know. I know.” He sighed. “Let me check the schedule.”

She climbed into the Thunderbird and waited for Brian to speak.

“Friday. Um… We’ll be in Nebraska. Looks like Lincoln.”

“That’s about four hours from here.”

“That’s not far,” he said, an excited edge to his voice.

“What time is your show?”

“We go on at ten. We have three bands opening for us. The actual show starts at six-thirty.”

“I’ll probably miss it, but I’ll try to get there. I will see you afterwards. I promise.”

“Or we can skip the show, meet in Vegas and get married.”

“No, we cannot.”

“Are you sure there isn’t some guy making his move on you?”

“Good-bye, Brian.”

He sighed. “I’ll call you later.”

She flipped her phone closed and tossed it into her purse. She backed the car out of her parking space and headed for her apartment on the north side of the city.

Brian was already getting too close. Too clingy. She didn’t do clingy. It made her nervous. And jealous? Jealous led to protective. And protective drove her nuts. She liked him, probably more than she should, but she wasn’t prepared to make a long-term commitment. And he kept bringing up this marriage thing. She knew he was joking, but still…

Marriage? Myrna shuddered.

Myrna parked her car behind the Lied Center in Lincoln, Nebraska. The throbbing sounds of the concert rattled her dashboard. The drive had been long and uneventful, but she was tired. Driving four hours after a full day at work and an insane amount of packing wasn’t advisable. She climbed from the car and headed for the end of the barrier fence. She’d just wait for the band on the bus and send a roadie after her luggage.

A security guard in a bright yellow shirt stopped her from entering the area in front of the waiting buses.

“I’m with the band,” Myrna told the guard. He had a six-pack stomach. The kind produced by consuming a six-pack of beer every night.

“I’ve heard that before,” he said. “You can’t go past the barrier.”

“So I’m just supposed to wait here until the band comes out and validates my story.”

“That’s the only way you’re getting past me.”

She sighed loudly, too tired to be patient. “Are there any roadies around? They know me.”

“Promising roadies favors won’t get them to lie for you.”

“Ugh! I could strangle you. When does the show end?”

He checked his watch. “Forty minutes or so.”

She might as well sit in her car. “When Brian or any of the other guys blow through here, tell him Myrna Evans is waiting in her car. And she’s not very happy about it after driving for four hours.”

“You’re Myrna?”

“Yeah.”

“ID?”

She shuffled through her purse until she found her driver’s license. She handed it to him. He inspected it carefully as if she were some fifteen-year-old trying to sneak into a nightclub.

“All right,” he said finally, handing her license back to her. “That guitarist guy kept coming out here asking if anyone had seen you before their show started.”

She smiled. Eager to see her, was he? The guard shoved the metal fence piece slightly so she could squeeze between two of the barriers. “Thanks for keeping my guys safe.” She patted him on the cheek and walked the inside of the barrier toward the building. Several fans milled near the back door, waiting for the band to come outside. Maybe now would be a good time to do a preliminary survey for her research.

Nothing formal. She didn’t have her survey questions set yet, but she could do a few informal interviews to get a better idea of how to ask questions. The hardest part about studying psychology was getting the questions worded properly to avoid leading the subject or introducing her personal bias.

She approached a young scantily clad woman.

“Hello,” Myrna said to the woman. “Can I talk to you for a few minutes?”

“How did you get on that side?” she asked.

“I’m with the band.”

She glanced at the security guard and whispered to Myrna, “Can you get me backstage?”

“No. Sorry. Why do you want backstage?”

“So I can meet Trey Mills. Why else?”

“He’s a great guy. Incredibly talented,” Myrna said. “What do you know about him?”

“Uh, everything. His birthday is June 9th. He has seventeen tats and twelve piercings. His real name is Terrance, which he hates, so he goes by Trey. His middle name is Charles. Trey was born and raised in Los Angeles. His best friend is Brian “Master” Sinclair, who he met when he was eleven and they started a band called Crysys in 8th grade. He had a dog named Sparky when he was a kid. It got hit by a car. You know their song, “Good-bye Is Not Forever?” Trey wrote that about his dog. He—”

“Okay, you do seem to know everything about him. Why do you want to meet him?”

“Duh. He’s Trey Mills.”

“Yes, I know who he is. Why do you want to meet him?”

“I love him. I want him. I need him.” She clutched her hands in front of her chest and rolled her eyes for emphasis.

“And what do you hope comes from this meeting?”

She laughed. “A baby. Are you a reporter or something?”

“No, I’m just curious. So you want to have s*x with Trey Mills?”

“Yeah, of course. Don’t you?”

Myrna laughed uneasily. “I have other interests. Have you had these feelings for any other men? Study their lives in detail, think you know them, profess to love them and try to have intercourse with them?”

She shrugged. “Just other band members.”

“Let’s say that Trey isn’t interested in you, but Jace Seymour invites you to the tour bus for s*x, do you go?”

Her brow furrowed. “Yeah, I’d do Jace. He’s hot. He might introduce me to Trey. A win-win situation. You know what would really be awesome? A threesome with Trey and Master Sin—”

Myrna lifted her hand to silence her. “So how do you act toward regular men? Ones who aren’t famous.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you regularly engage in promiscuous s*x?”

The girl stared at her for a long moment. “Are you asking if I’m easy?”

“Are you?”

“Yeah, I guess.” She shrugged. “Is there something wrong with that?”

“As long as you’re okay with it, it’s fine. Have you ever had s*x with a man you’ve just met?”

She looked puzzled as if thinking hurt her brain. “On a first date, you mean?”

“No, I mean, some hot guy comes out of that door, walks up to you, and says, ‘Let’s have sex.’ Do you go?”

She scowled. “No, that’s sick.”

“Let’s say Trey Mills comes out of that door, walks up to you, and says, ‘Let’s have sex.’ Do you go?”

“Yeah. I already said I would.”

“What’s the difference between the first guy and Trey?”

She paused and then shrugged. “I know Trey.”

“You know facts about Trey’s life, but you don’t know him. You’ve never met him, have you?”

“I do know him,” she spat. “I love Trey. And as soon as he meets me, he’ll love me back. Understand?”

“Yeah, I think I’m starting to understand, actually. I really appreciate your talking to me.”

“So can you introduce me to him?”

“I’ll put in a good word for you.”

She smiled. “That would be awesome!” She pulled a tube of lip gloss from her tiny purse and applied several coats.

Myrna talked to several other young women while she waited for Brian to finish his show. A trend emerged among them. They all had similar attitudes. She even found a girl in love with Brian. Talking to her was weird.

“How long have you been in love with Brian?”

“He prefers Master Sinclair, actually.” The girl rolled her eyes surrounded with far too much blue eyeliner.

Myrna knew for a fact that he didn’t, actually, but let Fan Girl think what she would.

“Um,” the girl continued. “I saw him live a couple of years ago before the band got really famous. Have you seen him on stage?”

“Yeah.”

“Isn’t he sexy?”

“Yeah. He’s definitely sexy.”

“And when he fingers his guitar, like…” She wriggled her fingers in rapid succession. “It’s like, oh my God, I want him, you know?”

“Yeah. I totally get that. How do you know you’re in love with him?”

“I think about him constantly. I have every picture of him ever taken taped to my wall. I watch his videos in slow motion.”

Creeped out, Myrna didn’t bother suppressing a shudder. “Isn’t that obsession, not love?”

“No, it’s definitely love. I’d do anything for him.”

She couldn’t stomach talking about Brian with obsessed fans any longer. “Thanks for talking to me.”

“Can you hook me up with Brian?”

Fuck no. She smiled at the girl. “I don’t think he’s interested, honey.”

Maybe she should stick with studying the rest of the band’s groupies but avoid Brian’s.

The back door swung open. Brian emerged, steam rising from his skin as the cool evening air hit his sweat-drenched body. He raced toward her and wrapped her in his arms, seeking her mouth for a welcoming kiss. Camera flashes went off. Something slammed into the back of Myrna’s head. Hard.

She jerked away from Brian, rubbing her scalp. “Ow.”

Brian looked down at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Something hit me,” she said, her eyes watery with tears. “It really hurt.”

He retrieved a black ankle boot from the ground. “Who threw this?” he demanded, scanning the congregated fans.

Only one girl stood beyond the barrier with a matching boot on one foot and nothing on the other. Brian approached the girl and shook the boot in her face. She flinched. It was the same girl who had claimed to be in love with Brian minutes before. “Did you hit my girlfriend with this?”

“Your girlfriend!” she wailed.

“Your girlfriend?” Myrna murmured.

Myrna rubbed the lump on her head, stunned more by his words than being clobbered in the back of the head.

“I’m sorry, Master Sinclair,” the fan girl said. “I love you. I love you.”

“And you think hitting someone I care about in the back of the head will get positive attention from me?”

“I didn’t mean to,” the girl cried, tears pouring down her cheeks. “I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad at me.”

He shoved the boot into the young woman’s chest. “Get out of here!”

He looked at the back of Myrna’s head, fingering the lump there. She sucked a pained breath through her teeth.

“Are you okay, baby? I think this is bleeding.” He looked down at his fingertips for signs of blood.

The rest of the band exited the building then. Sed paused in front of Myrna, who looked up at him, still grimacing in pain.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Some b***h hit her in the back of the head with a boot.” Brian touched the lump on the back of her head again. She wished he would stop already.

“What is this?” Brian asked, fingering the back of her head again. “A scar? What—”

She twisted away from him. “It’s nothing.”

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Sed said. They ignored the group of fans who were growing in number by the minute and went directly to the bus. Sed told the girls following him to wait outside.

Brian directed Myrna to a seat at the dining table and treated her scrape with peroxide from a first aid kit. The entire band was looking at her like she’d been in a horrible accident and was expected to die at any moment.

“I’m okay,” she insisted.

“You’ve got to be more careful, Brian,” Sed said. “You know what some of these fans are like.”

“I wasn’t thinking.” Brian tossed a wad of wet gauze on the table and kissed Myrna on the back of the head. “I was just happy to see her.”

Sed grinned. “Yeah, I get it. But be happy to see her in private. Okay? We don’t want her to get any death threats.”

“I don’t know how you guys deal with some of this stuff,” Myrna said.

“What stuff?” Brian asked.

“The fans. They honestly believe they know you. That chick who hit me knew more about you than I do. They say they’re in love with you and they mean it. It’s pretty twisted. They’ve never even met you.”

“It gets us lots of pussy.” Sed grinned.

Myrna chuckled. “I guess so.”

“Are you going to party with us, Myr?” Eric asked.

“Not tonight, Eric. I’ve had a long day. I think I just need to go to bed.”

“I agree,” Brian said.

“We’ll just leave you two lovebirds alone.” Trey grabbed Eric by the arm and pulled him out of the bus.

“Take good care of her, Brian,” Sed said. Jace nodded. They followed Trey and Eric out. The fans cheered their return.

“I’m really sorry about this, Myrna.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

“It was worth it. What I really wanted to do was tell that girl you were mine and she better turn her obsessive attention elsewhere.”

He smiled broadly. “You did?”

“Yeah. Will you do me a favor?”

“Anything?”

“Go wash off your eyeliner. I want to be with Brian right now. Not Master Sinclair.”

“Can Master Sinclair have a kiss first?”

“I’m not sure. I think my boyfriend might get jealous.”

He smiled and leaned down to kiss her. She clung to his shoulders as he plundered her mouth. When he pulled away to gaze down at her, her heart throbbed with excitement. “You’re right, Brian is a little jealous,” he said. “But he’s stoked that you called him your boyfriend.”

She shrugged. “Boyfriend I can handle. It’s that m-word I can’t tolerate.”

“Magical?”

“No, magical is fine. It’s that other m-word.”

“All right,” he said. “Brian promises not to ask for a massage after a show any more, even though he really, really enjoys it and was hoping you’d indulge him in a few minutes.”

“You know what I’m talking about. Why do you keep asking me to marry you? It really bothers me that you joke about it.”

“Who’s joking?”

Her heart skipped a beat. “I hope you are.”

Brian lowered his gaze. “It figures the first woman I ask to marry me thinks I’m joking.”

Her breath caught. “The first?”

“Yeah, the first. Only.”