The Bad Boys of Summer Anthology(227)

“Gage! We’re waiting on you!” someone shouted from the door. “Bring your ass on!”

“Yeah, let’s get this show on the road!” I heard Ben yell, clapping his hands. “Terri, I want you to make sure everyone and everything is on board before we leave. You have five minutes.”

After some quick yelling at a few others, Ben stepped onto the bus and looked directly at Gage. “Thanks for dropping my bags off. Things are always so hectic at the beginning of tours. New staff and they don’t know a damn thing.” He rolled his eyes, making his way toward his suitcases.

Gage nodded at Ben and then looked at me. As he stepped past, he winked, but I looked away and aimed to keep my heart at a steady pace. I failed terribly but was glad no one could hear the clambering through my chest because of all the commotion going on from outside. “See you later, Ellie,” Gage said, his voice a bit silkier than usual.

He took his last step off the bus and then hollered at someone, making my ears ring. I looked out of the thin window in front of me and watched as he bumped chests with Roy Sykes, the lead guitarist. Roy was way taller than the rest of the boys of the band and had shaggy hair that hung in his eyes. He had a lean stature and was covered in ink—way more ink than Gage.

Roy was hot and definitely something to look at as well, but from what I’d heard about him, he was soft spoken. He was comfortable with his band (by the way he was jumping and bumping fists with Gage, I could tell), but when it came to outsiders, he hardly said a thing. I don’t think anyone had ever caught an interview with Roy Sykes. He was the mystery man of FireNine.

Gage and Roy boarded their tour bus, which I noticed had FIRENINE printed in a fierce orange on top of the black chrome. Ben cleared his throat obnoxiously from behind me, snapping me out of my daze. I turned around and his arms were folded across his chest, his eyes glued on me.

“What?” I asked, my cheeks sparking.

“Ellie, huh? He’s given you a nickname… and you’re blushing? How adorable.”

I smirked and rolled my eyes. “I don’t know why he calls me that.”

He laughed. “You like it. Don’t act like you don’t.”

“It’s just a name, Ben. He’s a cool guy.”

“Yeah, whatever, sweetie. I’ve heard it all.” He walked for the stairs and laughed as he stepped off the bus again. He yelled at a few of the crewmembers and told them to get everything in order, and I sighed, going for my room of the bus.

I slumped on the edge of the bed and it sank beneath my weight. How the hell was I actually going to survive the tour without being around Gage so much? I didn’t know if I was going to be able to act like the careless chick—I mean, I didn’t care much, but for some reason I knew I would start soon.

Gage was my high school crush. I’d fantasized about him since day one of seeing him. I always wondered what it would be like to date him… but then he got famous and that thought vanished. I knew it was never going to happen. I was sure he had his girls lined up and his picks ready. I didn’t want to be one of those girls who did stupid things for a boy’s attention, so I decided for the entire tour to just play it cool.

I decided to act like Eliza Smith. It’s what I was best at anyway.



The next morning I woke up gasping and drenched in sweat. I shoved my blankets away, pushing myself up to lean my back against the headboard. The nightmare I had wasn’t pleasant. All I could remember was a large, filthy hand gripping my neck, pinning me against the wall, and… someone cackling. A clatter from the kitchen startled me and I stepped out of bed, pushing the nightmare aside. I had to get over it. I had to be strong.

As I entered the kitchen, Ben, wearing a sky-blue robe, was humming over the stove with a spatula in hand. His hair was most likely wet and ridiculously wavy from a shower. I then realized I was still sweating. Perhaps it wasn’t just my nightmare that left me that way.

“Good morning,” I sighed.

He turned around, facing me quickly. Laughing, he watched me run the back of my hand over my sticky forehead before scrambling his eggs again. “We’re in New Mexico, Liza,” he said, chuckling. “The air-conditioning unit isn’t running, but I’m having someone work on it as we speak.”

“It’s so hot.” I reached for a loose sheet of paper on the counter and fanned myself, glad he thought I was flushed over the heat instead of my night terror.

“Well, how about you take a cold shower and I’ll make you some eggs for breakfast? The boys have a show tonight, but we have to be there in two hours so they can practice and so the crew can make sure the setup is okay.”

I nodded, turning around. “I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

After taking an extremely cool shower, blow-drying my hair, and then stuffing my face with cheesy eggs, Ben and I were stepping off the bus to make our way to a pearly white Lincoln Navigator parked at the curb.

“That’s what we’re riding in?” I asked, stunned. I couldn’t pull my eyes from the truck. It was sparkling all over and with the sun hovering above it, providing the truck a personal twinkle, it was pretty much in the limelight.

“Yes, Liza! Gotta make ourselves look just as extravagant.” He winked over his shoulder, and I couldn’t help but stare. I’d never been on a tour with Ben before so I didn’t know what it was like to have a chauffeur or to even be taken to a show. I did know I was going to be backstage, up close and personal with the band.

Ben swung the door open and I climbed inside. He slid in after me, but a familiar voice called his name, causing my pulse to pick up. “Benny!” Gage yelled as Ben looked his way. Ben shut his door but rolled down his window with a heavy sigh.

“What is it, Gage?” Ben snapped impatiently. “We have to be there in thirty minutes and it’s a twenty-five minute drive.”

“Whoa now.” Gage held up his hands innocently, smirking. “We’ll get there in time. They have to wait for us regardless, right?”

Ben pressed his lips together, rolling his eyes at the statement.

“I just wanted to say good morning to you and your beautiful daughter Ellie.”

My eyes stretched, heat bombarding my stomach. Ben glanced over his shoulder at me and I forced a smile before looking away and placing my sunglasses on the bridge of my nose. “You can flirt later.” Ben rolled his eyes again. “Focus on the show tonight.”

“Oh, we’ve got this shit in the bag!” Gage yelled, taking quick steps backward as I looked in his direction. Gage’s attire was simple again. Chuck Taylor shoes, a white T-shirt with his band’s name on it, and his hair? Still untamed and all over the place yet dangerously sexy.

With another exaggerated sigh, Ben rolled up his window and told the driver to go before we ended up late. He then looked at me and I smiled innocently, shaking my head. “He’s… funny.”

“And a handful, yes,” Ben added.

I waited for Ben to strike up a conversation about Gage calling me beautiful, but he didn’t. Instead, he pulled out his phone and called someone, asking them how the stage setup was going. He was ready to get to the arena and was too focused on work to be thinking about it. I doubt he put as much thought into it as I did, anyway. I don’t know why, but I couldn’t really stop myself from obsessing over his flirtatious tone. In my head, I’d always considered Gage Grendel the stunning one. The hot-ass guy with the sexy-ass body. There was no doubt he had everything a girl needed… except sympathy of the heart.





CONFIDENCE

The first show was amazing. Gage’s vocal chords were like no other. He had a distinct voice that would let you know it was him from a mile away. It was undeniably beautiful. The way his lips parted and barely touched the microphone. The way he sang softly when the bass would drop. I just wanted to get wrapped up in it—tangled between his words. If I were someone who went through with her own thoughts, I would’ve dragged him off stage just to be alone with him. He sang with such grace it almost seemed unreal. He smiled behind the mic so much—so playfully—I couldn’t help but smile with him. He was flirting with the crowd, blowing air kisses, grabbing hands of miscellaneous FireNine fangirls.

As soon as the boys performed their last set, they pushed through the curtain to get backstage. Roy Sykes and Montana Delray stepped back first. Montana was the bassists and had blond hair that was cut and gelled into a spiky mohawk. His right eyebrow and the right corner of his bottom lip were pierced with studs, and from what I’d heard, he was the showboat of them all. He craved the attention, knowing he could never get more than Gage did. In my perspective, Gage was hotter, but Montana was extremely close.

“We’ve got a live one back here already,” Montana said, his eyes hard on me as he placed his red bass guitar against a crate. “I call dibs.”

He winked at me, but I swallowed hard, keeping my chin up. Ben told me not to look weak in front of the boys, and I was following through with his advice. I hadn’t been introduced to any of the boys except Gage. He repeated over and over how the boys loved to tease, and I had to suck it up and deal with it because they never held back.