Chapter Three #2
His words are intense and demanding. It makes me take another mouthful of the awful liquor, which, in turn, sends a fire down my throat.
So I cough once before spitting out my words, “They were all talking about how you like spicy girls and not sweet ones and how spicy they’ve all been with you.
” I say the words superfast, then take another sip, partly to cover my embarrassment.
Who even talks about this stuff?
I want to curl up and die right now.
He nods and rests back against the sofa. “Right.” He takes his hand off my thigh, and I know I shouldn’t have told him. Also, the Slayettes will probably be furious with me for telling him too. I’ve said too much!
“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have—”
“No, all good. I’d better get ready. We’re on in an hour, and I have shit…” Colt trails off and stands, running his hand through his hair. He looks down at me and huffs before walking out of the room, leaving me sitting stunned.
Taking another sip of Jack, I decide this bottle will be my new best friend tonight.
When the medic finishes, she places her hand on my shoulder in a comforting gesture. “If you need anything, just call security and ask for Tessa.”
I dip my chin and smile—there’s not much to say.
Tessa gathers her stuff and leaves me alone in the band’s dressing room.
Taking my new best friend, Jack, with me, I enter the hallway. There’s no way I will return to the Slayette’s room, so I’ll take a look around instead. Immediately, I’m drawn to the music playing and follow it backstage, where Colt’s band is rehearsing.
Colt has a guitar wrapped around him, Dingo is sitting at the back on the drums, Johnny—I guess that’s Johnny as we haven’t been formally introduced—is holding another guitar, but it has fewer strings, a bass, I think, and I still don’t know the other guy’s name, but who I assume is Colt’s brother due to the likeness has a guitar as well.
With his amazing ink and a guitar wrapped around him, Colt’s bare chest is doing all sorts of things to my insides.
Either that or it’s my best friend, Jack, who’s making me feel light-headed.
Either way, Colt has the total rock god vibe, and I’m excited to hear him sing.
He steps up to the microphone stand and fiddles with its position, then moves in close.
“Check, one, two, check,” he says, and his words echo throughout the stadium. Then he strums the guitar, and the sound floods my ears.
Wow, that’s loud! But I guess it has to be for everyone to hear it over the screaming fans.
Dingo clicks his drumsticks together, then the rest follow, their music coming together in harmony.
Normally, I’d call myself a pop music lover—although my father would prefer if I said I loved the classics—but the sounds coming from Colt’s guitar send shivers up and down my spine.
I may have been converted to a rock music lover in the first thirty seconds of an unfamiliar song.
A thrill of excitement courses through my veins as I step closer to watch Colt as he edges toward the microphone again.
When he starts to sing the song’s opening line, my heart explodes into tiny dancing shards.
The bass reverberates through me, and my body pulses in a way I’ve never felt before.
A big, goofy smile spreads across my face as Colt’s deeply sexy voice belts out the chorus.
Drawing my lower lip between my teeth, I feel an ache and need I haven’t felt before.
Four years with Joseph never made me feel the way I’m feeling right now.
Heck, Joseph never made me feel anything like this… ever.
Colt isn’t just the god of rock. He’s the chaos that fuels it, the kind of legend women would sell their souls to touch. And damn if I’m not one of them.
Just watching him detonates something inside me. Hot, reckless, a wildfire that devours everything in its path. My pulse slams against my ribs, every nerve tuned to the way he moves, the way he owns the stage like he was born to set it on fire.
I grab my Jack and knock back a burning gulp, but it does nothing to steady me. I exhale sharply, my heart racing, because this—Colt—isn’t just an attraction.
It’s a freefall.
It’s intoxicating
All-consuming and entirely out of my control.
And for the first time in my life, I don’t want to stop it.
Every part of me wants to run up the stairs onto the stage, rip off his jeans, and let him take me right here in front of everyone.
Daddy would be so proud! I dismiss the thought as Jack talking and instead sway to the song that has completely captivated me.
When the song ends, I cheer out loud and clap, drawing the band’s attention. I realize I must look like an idiot, so I stop and wrap my arms around my chest in embarrassment.
Colt looks at me and smiles. “Right, I think we’re good, yeah?” Colt takes his guitar off over his head and places it on the speaker at the front of the stage.
“Yeah, sounds good, guys,” Colt’s brother says as he approaches Dingo.
Colt’s staring at me, and I figure I’m not supposed to be here, so I turn to walk away and back to the Slayette’s room or somewhere other than here.
“Dee, wait,” Colt calls out. Turning, he jogs toward the stairs, grabs the handrails, and slides down the stairs effortlessly.
Oh, Jeepers, that was hot!
I stop walking and watch as he rushes across to me.
“So, what did you think?”
“Well, I don’t know. I think that maybe rock music is a little overrated.” My grin gives me away, but I keep going, “Yeah, it was mediocre at best.”
“Oh, really? Guess I’ll have to amp it up for the actual concert, then.
Don’t want to be disappointing you.” He leans in closer, and I laugh slightly, then swallow hard as he brings his hand up, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, leaving his fingers lingering on my cheek.
Gazing up into his luminous blue eyes, I swear I stop breathing.
Colt leans in, places his arm around my waist, and pulls me to him.
My heart’s pounding ferociously in my chest, so much so that I’m sure he can hear it.
He’s staring back at me, and the outside world disappears into a haze of confusion.
“How’s your head?” he asks.
“It’s fine. My friend, Jack, is helping. But those girls sure do know how to pull hair.”
He chuckles and caresses my cheek. “I couldn’t stand it if they’d really hurt you,” Colt says, leaning a little closer, noticing his eyes shift to my lips.
“Why?” I ask breathlessly.
He leans in even closer if that’s possible. “Because I don’t want anyone’s hands on you except mine.” His breath whispers against my lips.
I inadvertently lick my lips and think he’s going to kiss me.
Instead, he tightens his hand around my waist, and I can’t help but close my eyes as I feel the electricity surging between us.
There’s an ache building I can’t ignore as I hold my breath, ready and willing for our first kiss.
Then, just as his soft lips barely brush across mine, someone yells, leading us both to jump.
The moment’s lost as we open our eyes and look toward the edge of the stage.
“Hey, bro.”
Our first kiss attempt is interrupted, and it has me all kinds of blushing.
Colt averts his eyes back to mine, but the heat building in my cheeks has me looking firmly at the floor.
He lets out a small groan and lets go of me. “What? What could you possibly want right now that’s so important, Huxley?” Colt asks.
Finally, I have a name!
“Chillax, big brother. Entertainment Weekly is here with the contest winners. They need us, like… now,” he explains before he smirks at me.
“Right, yeah. Forgot about that. Okay, I’ll be there in a sec.”
“Big brother?” I ask.
Colt smirks. “Yeah, Hux is my little bro. We started the band together, which is why we’re called 12GAUGE-Slayed, or Slayed for short.
It’s a take on our surname and the guns we grew up with when Dad would take us hunting.
It’s probably the only good memory we have of the old bastard.
We named our band when we were young, and it’s just kind of stuck.
It’s funny how something amazing like our band and its name came from something as shitty as a memory and a name from an asshole. Swings and roundabouts, I guess.”
I weakly smile back at him. “Thank you for telling me that. I’m sorry your father was…
not nice… but I am glad you and your brother were able to make something of yourselves despite him.
” Someone calls Colt’s name in the distance, and he rolls his eyes, letting out a small groan.
“Guess you’d better get going. Don’t want to keep those evil minion fans out there waiting too long,” I joke.
“We will continue this later, yeah?” Colt states, and my heart rate spikes as he leans in.
I’m disappointed when he diverts and kisses my cheek.
His soft, warm lips on my skin send tingles throughout my entire body, and that ache between my legs is a full-blown raging inferno that I know only Colt can extinguish.
He smiles, and I shyly nod, then he shakes his head as he walks toward the stage, leaving me standing here.
Holy heck. What was that?
My head is spinning.
The man is a contradiction.
An enigma.
After his bizarre behavior and the way he left me in their changing room, I can’t believe we nearly kissed. The emotions flowing through me are overwhelming. Elation, fear, and guilt that I’m moving on too soon, and how Joseph might feel.
But he said he never loved me.
So why should I feel guilty?
Why should I care about Joseph’s feelings?
He broke it off with me.
And left me a right royal mess.
Taking another sip of Jack, I head to the Slayette’s room. It’s the one place I don’t want to be, but I know it’s where I’ll find out what’s next on the agenda.
“What the hell happened to you?” Jessi asks as I walk in, looking disheveled with my now ripped clothing and messy hair. At her question, everyone turns to look at me.
“Mobbed by the evil minions when I went outside,” I reply as I move to sit on one of the red couches.
“Seriously?” Sia asks, and I nod once. “What the fuck were you thinking! Are you a complete idiot? You never go outside without security. And… what did you just call them?”
“Evil minions,” I reply, and the room cracks up in hysterical laughter.
“That’s the perfect name for those complete lunatics. Maybe you can be one of us after all,” another girl states.
Jessi scoffs and rolls her eyes in clear disgust.
“Well, you have the ripped jeans. Now all we need is to do something about that tank top,” Sia remarks as she walks across to me. I look at her and grimace as she grabs the hem of my tank top, then rips it to just above my belly button.
“What the?” I yell out as she proceeds to rip it completely, so my top is now really short and showing off my midriff. I’m afraid that if I lift my arms, it might show way more than I want.
“There… now with a bit of dark makeup around the eyes, and we get rid of that yellow monstrosity you’re wearing, add a few chains, you will look just like us.
C’mon, girls, it’s a mission. Let’s liven up Dee and give her our rock chick vibe,” Sia chimes as they rush over and start fixing me up in one way or another—all except for Jessi, who’s too busy applying her lip gloss to care.
When the Slayettes finish making me over, I move to check myself out in the mirror. I don’t look like my usual self, but I don’t look half bad either. It makes me wonder, What will Colt think when he sees me?
They accented my green eyes with dark purple and black, making my irises pop.
My long hair is curled and messy, but in a good way, and the blush is a darker pink than I would normally use.
The lip gloss they applied is also darker than my typical shade, almost a deep red, but I like it.
The transformation from Daddy’s sweet, high-society lady to rock chick is spot-on.
“Wow,” I say, staring at myself.
“I know, we create masterpieces, don’t we, girls?
” Sia states. She takes my arm in hers, and we all walk out of the room and down to the stage.
The crowd hasn’t been allowed in yet, so we’re right in front.
I’m standing in the middle, directly in line with the microphone for Colt.
It makes me wonder if Sia positioned me here on purpose.
I pull out my cell phone to take some pictures, but then realize there are way too many messages when it buzzes out of control, so I do what any sensible girl would do, I turn the darn thing off.
An announcement echoes around the room, not long later, “The doors will be opening in ten minutes…” A pause. “Ten minutes, everyone.”
And with that, my nerves increase tenfold.