MY FAVORITE BAND, page 36
When I head downstairs to meet Denise and Lauren so we can travel together to the practice studio, I’m surprised to find Jessa with them. She smiles smugly at me, like she won the prize, and I want to strangle her.
Was she with him last night?
I won’t let her get to me. I stick my hands in the muff of my sweatshirt, lacing my fingers together to keep warm in the sixty-two degrees of a June morning in Los Angeles. Our car pulls up, and the four of us get in. Denise and Lauren look like they had a bit of a rough night last night.
“The band will arrive at noon,” Jessa says. “Our goal this morning is to try on everything and make sure it all fits. We’ll also tour the stage and run through everything aside from freestyle at least once. Any questions?”
None of us answer, which to me signifies that none of us have questions.
“Any questions?” Jessa repeats a little louder like the bitch she is.
“Nope,” I say snidely. Denise and Lauren both shake their heads.
“What is wrong with everybody this morning?” she asks.
“Tired,” I say absently. She overworked me yesterday, but I’ll never admit that to her. I need a day to allow my body to recover. I haven’t danced for ten hours straight in a while—probably since before I took the job working for Indigo Beauty. At least we’ll get a short break as we try on our outfits this morning.
She turns to Denise and Lauren. “And you two?”
“Hungover,” Lauren admits.
Jessa shakes her head. “We don’t have time for shit like that. You know better.”
Denise just sighs as she leans back into the seat and closes her eyes, and Lauren mumbles an apology. I don’t point out to Jessa that things might go a little smoother if she could just be a little nicer to us. She may be the choreographer, but she isn’t signing my paycheck. I don’t need this job, and I certainly don’t need her.
I might feel differently if I didn’t have that image of her and Brody laughing together constantly flashing through my brain like some sort of vicious attack.
The studio is a block behind the Ashmark offices, and as we drive by the building with the record label’s title lighting the top, I can’t help but think of Mark Ashton. I still think of him often even though what we had ended a long time ago. He has long moved on, and I’ve made peace with that. He was my first crush, but the adult me can finally say it’s time to move forward. He’s happily married with a kid and another on the way, and all I ever really wanted was his happiness. I wished for a long time it could be me who gave him those things, the classic tale of the older brother’s best friend, but that wasn’t our fate.
We tumble out of the car and into the studio. Jessa navigates the place like she has been here before, and we follow like good little dancers toward the dressing rooms, where we find four racks of clothes. We each have one—including Jessa, just in case she has to step in as an understudy one night. We have four outfit changes, two of which need to be quick changes.
The first order of business is to try everything on and check each other to be sure everything fits and looks exactly as it should. Lauren’s leotard is a little big, and Denise’s shoes are a little small. One of my corsets has a frayed strap, and Jessa’s is missing a small row of sequins. Thankfully, they’re all easy fixes.
We practice our quick changes a few times, and by the time we’re done, we’re ready for lunch and my body is grateful I haven’t had to dance at all yet today. We visit what’s called the craft table, where we find a spread of sandwiches, fruits, and vegetables, and my heart pounds with each passing moment that brings me closer to Brody.
I haven’t heard a word from him since yesterday’s text, and I can’t help but wonder what that means or where it leaves us. He’ll be here soon, but that doesn’t mean I’ll have answers to my questions.
Jessa dumps half a plate of food in the garbage can and practically runs away from the craft table the second we spot Kylie leading the pack. I’m trying not to roll my eyes as I hear her say with way too much enthusiasm as she claps her hands, “We are so excited to practice with the band!”
I’ve got a ham and cheese sandwich shoved halfway into my mouth just as Brody walks in. His eyes immediately connect with mine.
In the spirit of just being myself, I bite down on the sandwich and chew it slowly. Fuck it. I’m too old to play the I don’t eat anything game. My eyes flick down to those kissable lips that I can see even from across the room. They’re tipped up in a small smile as he watches me, and then Jessa sidles up beside him. I can’t hear what she says to him, but he breaks our eye contact to look down at her.
“I’m so jealous of Jessa,” Lauren whispers to my left.
“Why?”
“Look at them,” she says, nodding toward Jessa and Brody.
I glance over and wish I didn’t. My heart drops. His arm is around her shoulder, and it might mean nothing at all...but it might mean everything.
“So?” I finally mutter.
“They just seem like they’re so into each other and he’s so fucking hot. I wish I was the one who snagged his attention first.” Lauren sighs with heavy disappointment.
I dump the rest of my plate in the trash. I suddenly lost my appetite.
“Let’s go stretch and get ready to dance,” I say, completely changing the subject as I sidestep that landmine.
Kylie gathers most of us backstage a few minutes later. Dax and Kane are here, and Mitch, the tour manager, is listening in. The dance crew is all accounted for, and a couple roadies stand with us. The Rock on the Road cameramen are here. One is filming, and the other is ready to listen to Kylie. Adam and Rascal are toward the back of the group, present but not paying attention. Noticeably missing from this gathering is Brody.
And Jessa is the first to point that out. “Where’s Brody?” she asks.
“Fixing his drum kit,” Kylie says absently. “We’re going to get started. We’ll practice the opening number a handful of times to make sure the transition is smooth, and then we’ll run through the full set at least twice. The guys have their little routines they do, their talking intercessions, et cetera. Dax tends to move around the stage a lot, so today is more about getting everyone comfortable with where they need to be and when. If we bump into one another today, it’s part of the learning process. If we bump into one another tomorrow, it’s a mistake. Does everyone understand where to go for the opening number?” she asks.
The guys will take the stage first, and midway through the first song, the lights will flash a bunch of times before it goes dark during a quick pause in the song. The three of us dancers will appear in our spots on the stage when the lights come back up.
I don’t get a chance to talk to Brody or even make eye contact with him before we start practice.
Jessa sits in a seat out in the audience, her voice in our ears. “In three, two, one...GO!” she says once the room goes dark.
The lights come back up, Brody smacks his drums, and Adam joins in on guitar as Dax’s voice fills the large practice arena.
Kylie waves her hands at the front of the stage. “Again,” she says.
I hear Jessa in my ear. “Lauren, you need to get into position faster.”
Everyone resets, and we do it again.
I haven’t even turned around yet to make eye contact with Brody, but I feel his presence behind me. I can’t tell if I feel his eyes on my ass or if I want to feel his eyes on my ass.
“Again,” Kylie says, waving her hands again.
“Zoey, clean it up,” Jessa says in my ear. “And Denise, that step was left-left-right-left, not left-right-right-left.”
Fuck her for implying my dancing is sloppy. For one thing, this is practice. She never said we were going full out, but I will now.
We reset and do it again, and this time I give it my all. Kylie doesn’t wave for us to stop, so we finish the opening number.
When the song ends and the room quiets, the sound of a single person clapping greets our ears.
When I place my focus out into the audience rather than on my dance, I see a familiar person standing there. My heart warms at seeing him, but not in the way it used to. Now it’s like seeing an old friend. A ridiculously hot old friend, but nothing more.
“That was sick,” Mark Ashton says from the fourth row. “If this is what you’re doing the full two hours, we made the right choice with MFB.”
“Thanks, man,” Dax says into the microphone.
“Let’s run through the opening song one more time for today, and then we can move on to the rest of the set,” Kylie suggests.
This time when I turn around, I glance up at Brody. His eyes are on me, but he makes no motion to indicate it’s anything more than taking an interest in the dancers on his stage. Either he’s an excellent bluffer or he’s already lost interest.
I’m forced to run off the stage and break our eye contact so we can reset for the opening number again, much to my disappointment.
We run through the opening song again but roll right into the second song. Mark sits in the audience, observing and taking notes. Kylie told us that the entire set runs just under two hours, and I’m frankly sort of shocked that Mark hasn’t moved yet and we’re on the sixth song. He’s a busy man, but he also obviously cares about the bands he signs to his label. It’s such a personal touch for him to be here when he has other things to do.
I want to say hi to him—and maybe even thank him for thinking of me to fill this position—but for the first time since my crush started at the age of fifteen, I feel a stronger tug pulling me toward someone else.
Nearly every time I’ve turned and had the chance to look at Brody, his eyes have been trained on me. I listen as he pounds out the beat, the raw talent he possesses that I hadn’t even really thought about before. I’ve listened to his music a lot over the last couple days and knew some of MFB’s songs before I came on this tour, but hearing it in person as I stand ten feet away from him is another matter entirely.
He’s not just good at drumming.
He’s phenomenal.
I could be here all day dancing for him. It’s fun, even—not like in that tiny studio with Jessa the Bitch riding my ass. This is different. Her voice is still in my ear telling me I’m doing it all wrong, but it just feels right to be up here moving across the stage in front of him.
There’s a break for us dancers during the eighth song. It’s a ballad with a single guitar played by Adam harmonizing with Dax’s voice, and it’s one of the places where we’ll have a costume change, so normally I’d be running to the dressing area. Today, though, I get the luxury of being able to run to the restroom, a private single stall affair on the opposite side of the building down a long hallway.
When I emerge from the restroom, a lone figure waits, his back against the wall and a knee bent with his foot resting flat on the wall. My heart races as my mind catches up that Brody and I are finally getting a moment of privacy.
He’s every inch the bad boy standing there. I move to walk past him, but he takes a menacing step toward me. I freeze, and then he takes another step. I step backward, but the hallway is small and my ass bumps against the wall. He takes one more step, pinning me to the wall with his hips. His eyes blaze into mine for a beat before he leans in and runs his nose along my neck.
“You think you can just shake your ass for two hours in front of me like that and expect me to take it slow?” he asks, thrusting his hips toward me on his last three words. His breath tickles my ear and the hardness pressing into my lower belly sends a shiver down my spine. He grabs both my hands in one of his and pins them above my head against the wall, his other hand gripping my hip as he pushes toward me again.
He’s making it hard for me to think straight, but I still manage to get a response in.
“You think you can drum ten feet away from me with all that talent and sexuality?” I ask, and I push back with my hips. Our eyes meet for an erotic beat, and then I clearly enunciate each word as I say, “Fuck taking it slow.”
His mouth crashes down to mine, my words the invitation he needed. His tongue pushes into my mouth and thrashes around as all the pent up need the two of us have for one another finally bursts forth to the surface.
Suddenly Jessa is the last thing on my mind with Mark and everything else a close second. All I can focus on is the feel of his lips on mine, his tongue exploring my mouth, his hand pulling my hip closer into him, so close that I can practically feel the length of his dick as it presses harder and harder into me. A little moan escapes me, and then we both hear someone clearing a throat and Brody jumps back so fast he nearly crashes into the wall on the other side of the hallway.
I giggle a little, and the throat-clearer lets out a loud laugh.
“Looks like you two are getting to know one another,” Mark says.
I glance over at Brody, whose poker face is completely shot.
“It’s so good to see you,” I gush to Mark, walking over to him for a hug. When he hugs me back, my heart doesn’t race the way it used to.
“You too, Zo,” he says softly. “How have you been?”
“Really good.” I smile. “Thank you for hooking me up with MFB.”
He raises a brow. “To be clear,” he says, motioning between Brody and me, “I didn’t hook you up. I simply recommended you for a position I thought you’d excel in.”
I giggle nervously and glance at Brody. He looks a little scared that Mark knows he was just kissing me, and I remember him telling me why Dax thought the two of us hooking up was a bad idea.
“Can we, uh, keep this between the three of us?” Brody finally asks Mark. “It’s just...we don’t know what this is and we aren’t ready for anybody to know about it.”
Mark nods. “Of course.” He leans in toward Brody and claps him on the shoulder. “But fair warning, man. She’s my best friend’s little sister. Don’t fuck her over.”
Brody nods and holds up both hands in surrender. “You have my word.” He glances at me. “And she does, too.”
Mark looks at me. “And you,” he says, pointing at me as he narrows his eyes. “I’ve known you a long time, and I know what you’re capable of. Be careful with this guy. Don’t fuck up his first headlining tour.”
“I won’t,” I say softly. I know he’s just trying to protect both of us. With me, it’s personal, and with Brody, it’s business—but the end result is the same. He wants this tour to go off without a hitch, and it’s a fair warning for both of us.
But we’re grown adults, and we’re going to do what we please despite the warning.
CHAPTER 22: BRODY
“Happy birthday Abby and Ally,” I sing a few days later. I glance around at my family. My parents look like the picture of happiness, my mom smiling over at her two daughters, my dad standing next to my mom, his arm casually flung around her shoulders like they’re still in love after thirty years of marriage.
I don’t buy it.
Or maybe their secret to happiness is unfaithfulness.
The thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I want to be enjoying this moment where I spend the last bit of time with my family unit before I leave to headline my first tour. Life may change for me, or it may stay exactly the same. Whatever the case, this feels like a last time of sorts, and I’m not sure why. We’re actually coming through San Diego on tour next month, so I may be standing in this exact place again soon.
Abby blows out the large number two on the cake, and Ally takes the three. My mom brings the cake to the counter to cut it while my dad brings the stack of presents on the counter over to the table.
“Start with mine,” I say.
“Wait for me!” Mom exclaims from the other side of the room as she slices then pulls out the piece of cake to set it on a plate. I stand to help, bringing the plates with cake over to the table.
Once everyone has a piece, we all sit at our kitchen table to watch the girls open their gifts. I got them each a card, and when they open it, their present falls out.
“A backstage pass!?” Abby exclaims at the same time Ally yells, “Oh my God!”
“There’s one for each of you, too,” I say to my parents. “We’re coming through San Diego next month and I want you all to be there.”
I don’t really mean it. I’m not totally convinced I want my father there, but since I grabbed tickets for everyone else, it seemed like the right thing to do. I don’t even know if he’ll make it. He’s probably got some whore in the city who he’ll need to entertain that night.
“This is great, Brody,” my dad says. “We’ll all be there.”
I breathe out a quick sigh of relief. I don’t know why I’m a little unsure around my dad. I guess it’s the secrets my family keeps pressing down on me, but I can’t say he hasn’t been supportive. He’s worked hard to help MFB find ways to break out, and if not for the strings he has pulled, I’m not entirely sure we’d be where we are today.
Sometimes Dax and I talk about our fathers. Dax’s dad never supported his decision to make music. They cut ties years ago. My dad is supportive as can be, yet there are times I wish I could cut ties with him, too. I hate the fake life we live. I hate how we all pretend. Yet when Dax comes over, all he can talk about is what a great family I have. The family he always wanted. His dad cheated on his mom, too—and it produced a child who was dropped on their doorstep, outing the affair. That hasn’t happened with my dad, at least not that I know of, but I can’t help wondering whether I have other half-siblings out there.
I shake off the thought and try to focus on the sisters I do know about. They’ve always had a special relationship, and while I’m their big brother, I’ll never be able to touch the bond they share. It’s a twin thing, they always tell me—which is fine, but it also puts distance in our relationship.
