I was home.
The chaos of backstage before a show was almost as comforting as Chase’s mom’s place. I knew the players, I knew what was coming, and I loved every fucking minute of it.
Coming out of the band’s greenroom into the mêlée of the main greenroom was like embracing a hurricane. The opening band—Exempty—were either downing shots or puking into trash cans. Rookies. Techs and roadies were rushing around with last minute setups. A few celebrities were lounging around, trying to look above it all, but their wide eyes belied their façade. At one end of the room, a few people held cameras or stood with photographers—the press.
It was good to know which end of the room to avoid.
“I like it, Jesse,” a woman’s voice purred in my ear as her hand slowly ran from one side of my back to the other. A second later, Rowan stood in front of me with her arm still around my shoulders and a naughty sparkle in her eyes. “What do you think? You like? Need any alterations?”
The band had a rule while on tour—no partying before a show. Which meant no drinking—aside from our kickoff shot ritual—drugging, or women before we took the stage. Although, apparently, that rule didn’t apply to wives. Chase’s bus was definitely rocking when I walked by it a few minutes ago on my way to the greenroom. Fucker.
Rowan had been my favorite kinda girl—one who knew the score and was just here for the fun of it all. But I was still pissed at her for that stunt she’d pulled last night with Ella. Despite how she’d made it sound, I hadn’t slept with her in a while. Frequency usually led to expectations.
But I wasn’t about to make waves this early in a tour and definitely not before a show, so I gave her my patented smirk and played along. “Did you have something in mind?”
“Oh, you don’t want to know what’s on my mind, Jesse.” Rowan’s lips pursed for a second, then she winked at me. “I have just the thing. Give me a second.”
I wasn’t alone as I watched Rowan flounce away in her skintight miniskirt and high heels. The combo did some seriously fantastic things to her ass. She was almost better going than coming. Just then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Ella nearby with a video camera pointed our way.
A feeling I didn’t want to label pooled in my stomach, and all my playfulness drained away.
Ella’s expression was carefully blank as she held the black square GoPro camera in front of her, her eyes trained on the screen. She looked every inch the professional with her hair piled on top of her head in a blonde/purple bun and her all-black clothing. But I saw the twist of her mouth when Rowan came back with a pair of huge scissors.
“It just needs a little—” Rowan muttered just before she sliced through my shirt.
“Fuck!” I shouted as I felt the cold press of the scissors against my skin.
“Don’t be a baby.” Rowan tossed the scissors down, then grabbed the material in her hands and ripped the slices wider.
“Why even wear a shirt at this point?”
“Aww, come on, Jesse.” Rowan patted my chest patronizingly. “You look hot.”
“Holy shit!” Noah shouted as he suddenly appeared at my side. “I can totally see your nipple.”
I scowled at him. “Shut the fuck up.”
Noah snorted. “It’s not like you don’t rip your shirt off on stage every night anyway. Rowan just got you started a little early.”
“I think you have me confused with you. You’re the one who does a little Flash Dance impersonation with a water bottle. Remember?”
“Oh yeah.” Noah smirked. “That was me. Huh.”
Rowan grabbed her scissors. “Okay. Who’s next?”
Noah jumped back, his fingers held up in the sign of a cross. “Back, Satan. Back!”
Rowan huffed a frustrated breath. “Do you like your outfit?”
“Yes.” Noah nodded emphatically. “And I’d like it to stay on my body, please.”
Rowan rolled her eyes and stomped away, clearly upset Noah ruined our vibe.
Little did she know that Ella had done that long before Noah showed up.
“Seriously, bro.” Noah leaned into me so he didn’t have to shout. “How do you sleep with her? She’s scary as fuck.”
I shrugged. I definitely wasn’t going into detail. Especially with Ella right there armed with a microphone. “It’s not like we’re exclusive or in a relationship or whatever. I haven’t even been with her since our last overseas tour.”
Noah’s eyebrows went up.
Whatever he was going to say went unsaid as Xander joined our little huddle. “What the hell happened to your shirt, Jess? Didja lose a fight with Wolverine?”
Noah’s guffaw doused us both with a spray of water. “Holy shit.” He coughed hoarsely. “You don’t even know, Xan. Shit!”
Xander’s gaze bounced between us. “What the fuck did I miss?”
I shook my head while Noah got his coughing under control. Then he stood and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, totally unlike Rowan had earlier. “Just Rowan doing her Edward Scissorhands impression. It was scary as fuck. And this guy just stood there and let her.”
“Well, are you going to argue with Rowan when she’s holding scissors to your chest?” I gave them both a look.
Xander laughed. “Fuck no. She’s scary.”
“That’s what I said!” Noah laughed.
Xander rocked back on his heel. “So where’s Chase? We need to do our celebratory shot before Exempty takes the stage.”
“His bus was rocking when I left to come here.” I tipped my head at Xan. “Haven’t seen him.”
“So much for the rules.” Xander scoffed.
“He just came in the greenroom as I was leaving,” Noah reported. “He said he’d be ready in five.”
“Come on, man. It’s his wife. They’re going to be apart for weeks while we’re on the road. Give him a break,” I protested, even though I’d literally had the same thought. I’d never throw my best friend under the bus.
Even if he was screwing his wife inside it before our show.
Xander hitched his shoulder. “I’ve got no official problem until/unless it starts screwing up our schedule. He’s got five minutes to get here before I drag him out by his collar like a disappointed mama.”
Noah jerked his chin. “Or you could always recruit Mama Robinson to do it for you.”
Xander and I turned and found Mama Robinson standing next to Harper in the corner of the room.
“Mama!” I shouted as I crossed the room to her. “When did you get here? Why didn’t you come say hi?” I pulled her into my arms, and she held me tight.
Correction: this felt like home.
My eyes were embarrassingly wet when I finally loosened my hold on her. Christ, I’d needed that.
Her arms still around me, Lori smiled up at me. “Well, I wasn’t going to barge into your private greenroom. There are some things a mother shouldn’t see. Although apparently you all do that out here too.”
I felt chagrined as she nodded toward the place my little scene with Rowan had taken place. I rubbed the back of my neck. “Uh, I got nothing.”
Noah shoved me out of Lori’s arms. “Stop hogging Mama. It’s my turn.”
Lori laughed as she let Noah put his arms around her. But I was pretty sure she didn’t hug him the same way she’d hugged me. Noah hadn’t grown up with the Robinsons. We’d only met the guy in middle school. He hadn’t put in his time like I had.
“Hey, Xander.” Lori hugged the last member of our trio since we were still waiting on Chase to show his face.
Just then, my cell phone vibrated with an incoming call. I pulled it out and checked the screen.
Mom
Rolling my eyes, I denied the call. I didn’t want to put up with her asking me to buy her something just before I go onstage. That shit could wait until later. Like next month, when my next payment to her was due.
“Hey Harper!” I shouted to Wes’s assistant who stood on the very edge of our little circle. “Can you hold onto this for me? I should’ve left it in our greenroom.”
She took my phone from me. “I’ll hand it over to Dallas. I’m leaving for the airport in twenty.”
“Thanks.”
Noah sidled up to Harper and tried and failed to put his arm around her. “You’re not staying for the show? How are you ever going to fall in love with me if you’re always leaving?”
“You’re going to have to up your game, boy-o.” Harper rolled her eyes.
I laughed. As far as I knew, Harper hadn’t fallen for Noah’s dubious charms. And it wasn’t exactly like Noah was discreet.
“Why can’t you find a good girl like Harper here, Jesse?” Lori wrapped an arm around Harper, pulling her away from Noah’s over-the-top leering gaze. “Or my lovely daughter-in-law, Shay? Someone who’s sweet and will take care of you and not flay you alive?”
Mama Robinson had clearly not spent enough time with Harper if she thought Harper was all sweetness and light. Not that I was going to educate her. “You know I’m too busy for anything serious.”
Lori raised her eyebrows. “Like that stopped my son.”
We all had thoughts initially about Chase’s quickie Vegas marriage to a stranger—and none of our thoughts had been positive, aside from Lori’s. She’d somehow known that Chase had met his match with Shay. The rest of us, not so much. But we’d been wrong, and Lori was right. Shay and Chase worked.
Not that that meant she was right about me.
Lori smiled knowingly, then turned and called out to her daughter. “Ella! Can I get a hug before you disappear with these hooligans for months on end?”
Ella rolled her eyes and her cheeks flushed red as she became the center of attention. No matter where we went, all eyes were on us, but I was used to it. Judging by the way Ella’s hand shook as she tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, she was not.
But Ella dropped her camera to her side and hugged her mom back hard. Lori whispered something in her ear, and Ella nodded.
I turned away to give them a little privacy and spotted another member of Exempty bent over an industrial size trash can hurling their guts out.
Elbowing Xander, I tipped my head in the puking rocker’s direction and asked, “Nerves, or do you think they’re partying too hard?”
“Fuck.” Xander groaned. “Don’t know which option is best, honestly. Why does management always hook us up with these dipshits? Just once, I’d like to tour with a band who has their shit together.”
I laughed. “Truth.”
The number of bands that’d crashed and burned while on tour with us was almost an urban legend. Spyglass Rule had swung on each other onstage. Apparently, the drummer had been banging the lead singer’s girl. Classic. Pier 99 had been so blitzed they’d gotten lost backstage, and then their guitarist puked all over security, who’d been escorting them onstage. And the lead singer of Dog Stiles had ODed in the middle of their set last year. The Babbler had done a whole series on how our tours were cursed. Eh, it hadn’t hurt ticket sales. If anything, they’d gone up.
“All right. All right. All right!” Chase crowed as he skipped into the room. “Let’s get this show on the road!”
Xander rolled his eyes. “Nice of you to show up.”
“Hey, I’m right on time. Where’s the scotch?” Chase swung his head left and right.
“Over here,” Harper called from behind us.
We turned and took in the huge line of shot glasses filled to the brim with amber liquid.
Noah groaned. “Scotch? Really? You know I hate that shit.”
“So sorry,” Chase said insincerely. “But to close out our LA shows, tonight’s shot is sponsored by me, and my personal stash of Macallan 18. So everyone grab a glass.”
I snagged a glass, then stepped out of the way. Everyone else in the crowd soon had a shot glass in hand. Even Mama Robinson grabbed a shot. She smiled down at Chase’s wife, Shay, who’d suddenly appeared in the greenroom with a shot glass in hand too.
Everyone but Ella had a glass.
I frowned at her and tipped my head at the table, but she shook her head and gestured at the camera. Because apparently capturing this moment was more important than participating.
I disagreed, but I wasn’t gonna make a big deal of it.
“All right! Everyone ready?” Chase called to the crowd.
“YES!” the group shouted back.
“Fuck me. Okay.” Chase laughed. “Tonight, I wanted the honor because none of this—our current chart topping single, our album, this tour—would’ve been possible if I hadn’t met the most amazing woman in this whole wide fucking world.”
Everyone in the room swung their gaze to Shay.
But I couldn’t look away from Ella. Her eyes sheened with tears as she held her camera focused on her brother and his wife. She looked so happy for the couple in that teary way women had. That, more than the display in front of us, made me smile.
“So thank you Shay. You’ve made me a better man and saved me from turning into an egocentric LA douche.”
Shay’s face was bright red, but she still grinned up at her husband. And I was pretty sure she mouthed ‘I hate you,’ to Chase. But it was charming because of the love shining in her eyes. We all knew she didn’t mean it.
“All right!” Chase held his shot glass aloft. “Let’s close out LA right. All hail the Tin Gods!”
“Hail!” the four of us—and a few people around us—chorused before we clinked our glasses together and downed the shot. Then raucous cheering pulsed through the room.
It almost covered up the sound of Exempty’s drummer puking on his shoes.