Chapter 2
One Month Later
It doesn’t take a psychiatrist to explain why I don’t like people in my personal space, touching me. It’s like every touch is Grayson’s.
This makes my job as a roadie extremely uncomfortable, especially in a closed-in, crowded venue like tonight, with all these bodies thrashing under the strobe lights.
I’m hovering along the wall, scanning the pit, making sure I can see all the exits. Grayson’s team wouldn’t expect to find me on the crew of Raking Nails but I still worry.
The lead singer screams into the mike, and I push the earplugs further into my ears. These guys really stink. I don’t know why Brynn signed me up for a metal band. I’ve got to get on with a new crew. I want to listen to music I like.
As I turn toward the exit door, one of the thrashing bodies hip-checks me, and I stumble into some guy. “Whoa, sorry,” I say, grabbing onto him.
He grips my hips to steady me and gives a friendly laugh. “You okay?” he shouts over the music.
Strobes light his face, and even in the darkness of the club I make out dark black eyes. But not soulless black. More like dark chocolate. But even as I notice this I also notice we’re close. Too close. And we’re touching.
Suddenly, pressure moves in on me, and air painfully pushes at my lungs. I’m not helpless, I tell myself. I’m not trapped. Yet, I still twist from his hold.
Immediately, he puts his hands in the air. “Easy.”
I back away, my heart thumping, feeling strangely lightheaded.
“Hey, you okay?” he asks again.
I shake my head more to clear it than to answer his question. It’s been a month now, and I’m okay. Grayson has no clue where I am.
The guy dips his head, trying to catch my frozen gaze. “Hello?”
“Sorry,” I mumble, taking the plugs from my ears and holding them up as if they were the reason for everything.
He flashes a teasing smile. “All good.”
From a foot away, I’m really looking at him now. He’s tall with short black hair under a fedora and dark stubble across his cheeks. He’s not so much smiling, but more grinning.
“Sorry,” I say again, this time louder. “The crowd’s a bit crazy tonight.”
“It’s the crappy music,” he jokes. “Makes the girls leap into my arms to be rescued.”
I chuckle, and the sound strikes me as odd. I can’t recall the last time I chuckled. For that matter, I can’t recall the last time I genuinely smiled.
“Don’t worry. I enjoyed every minute of it.” He jokingly waggles his brows.
My entire face burns, and I thank God the club is dark and he can’t see. This guy might be flirting with me. No one’s ever flirted with me before. I’m not sure what to do or say next, and I’m torn between wanting the comfort of walking away and also wanting the awkwardness of staying.
He holds out his hand. “My name’s West.”
West. I like that name.
“Eve,” I say as I shake his hand. It’s funny how in the past month I’ve gotten so used to my fake name that I no longer hesitate in saying it. Eve just naturally rolls off my tongue now. I like the anonymity of being her.
He cocks his head to the side. “What’s your story, Eve? What are you doing here?” He nods to the earplugs. “I take it you’re not here for the music?”
A gorgeous Asian girl comes up beside him, leaning in. “Hey, sorry it took me so long.”
West gives her a quick smile. “That’s okay.”
I take her arrival as my cue to leave.
“Wait,” West says, but I simply give him a little wave and head off.
Pushing through the exit door, I step out into a drizzly Nashville evening, and I immediately move into the shadows. I stand, letting the light September rain soothe my skin.
The exit door swings open, and I swerve around to see Anne step through.
“There you are,” she says, giving me a quick once-over. “What are you out in the rain for?”
“Needed some fresh air.”
Anne’s the only other girl roadie. She’s nineteen, and she’s a lesbian. People tend to think we’re together. It’s funny how that works. She sort of reminds me of Brynn at times, and she totally gets my quirks.
Anne stands under the roof’s overhang and lights up a cigarette. She takes a very long first drag as she always does. “Rumor is West Wolf made an appearance tonight.”
Realization dawns on me as I huddle beside her. “The West Wolf? As in lead singer of Bus Stop?”
Anne’s pierced brow lifts in interest. “Yeah, why?”
“Tall, dark hair, fedora.” I motion to my cheeks. “Stubble.”
Anne’s eyes gleam with humor. “I take it you saw him.”
“We met. Or rather I bumped into him. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize him. I love their music.”
“Helluva a lot better music than this shit. And…hell, Eve, even I think he’s hot. So, you can stop pretending you don’t.”
“I didn’t say he was hot,” I mumble, though, of course, I totally thought he was.
She flicks her ashes. “You didn’t have to. I’ve known you a month now, and this is the first time you’ve ever noticed a guy.”
An uncomfortable shrug lifts one shoulder.
“Well, when you ‘bumped’ into him, did he get excited?”
“Anne!”
She chuckles. “Dude, I would give my left boob to play onstage with him.”
I half laugh, half choke.
She sobers a bit as she takes another long drag. “Listen, he’s got quite the rep, making his way through the girls and all. I mean, he’s supposed to be a great guy and whatnot, but just be careful, you know?”
It’s not like I’ll ever see West again.
The music inside the club dies down, the crowd cheers, and that’s our cue to start breaking down equipment.
“I don’t know about you, but I hate this gig. I saw a flyer in the bathroom about Indie Fest looking for a new crew. Interviews are tomorrow at the amphitheater.” Plus, it’ll keep me moving. “You in?”
Anne rubs her cigarette out on the brick wall. “Hell yeah! I’m in.”