Page 15 of For Eva

“Huh?” I asked, not taking my eyes off the fretboard as I moved on to the next chord.

“That song.”

I stopped playing and looked up. “What? Shit. Yeah, I guess it is.”

“That sounds good, man.” He flicked his lighter and touched the tip of his cigarette to the flame. “We should add it to the rotation. I’m sick of the same old shit everybody plays.”

I shook my head. It made me think ofher, and that was something I categorically triednotto do. “Nah, it needs two guitars. It won’t sound right without them.”

“Whatever, dude. Matt can make sure it doesn’t sound empty, and I’ll sing the shit out of it.” Eric smirked. “So, I mean, we can either add this or a KISS song. Your choice.”

I fucking hated KISS. Which was the main reason I’d been hesitant to bring Eric Stratton on as our singer after our first guy knocked up his hometown girlfriend and moved back to Ohio. Eric worshipped that damn band, and I wasn’t about to let him turn us into some fucking clown show. But while he may have been wowed by the spectacle of bands like KISS, the pyro and makeup went out the window when it came to his own songs. The first time we sat down to write was magic; his words and my music came together so naturally, so perfectly. We both knew right then that we were each other’s tickets to the next level.

Of course, I also learned early on in our relationship that I’d have to pick my battles with Eric. He was kind of…well, adick. But I knew that was pretty much par for the course with lead singers, and I didn’t wanna get into a bullshit argument over something so seemingly minor. And when Eva walked through the backstage door, I thanked God I’d decided to put my sword down and agreed to add that song to our list of covers.

As we moved into our last number, I could barely take my eyes off her. I couldn’t tell if the gleam in her own eyes was from the lights that danced across them or if the song had really meant something to her. Regardless, their soft, velvety brownhad me completely fucking hypnotized. She looked so beautiful, her long blond hair swept to the side and her hips swaying in that short black dress.God, she’d always had the best hips.

And ass.

Jesus.

It was hard not togethard just thinking about it.

But wanting her back in my life was about so much more than that. Yes, she was hot as fuck. And no, I couldn’t stop thinking about fucking her the night before. But all of that was secondary. There were thousands of hot girls who were great lays in LA. But none of them were Eva. And I’d blown everything by giving up on her when she would’ve never given up on me. She’d believed in me when no one else had. My friends, my mom, my piece of shit dad who’d walked out when I was fifteen…none of them thought I had what it took to make it. And even though she hadn’t wanted me to leave, she’d told me to go, with promises we’d stay together and plans that would never come together because they were all based on lies I’d told her. So how could I make her believe that I knew I’d made a mistake? As I searched for the magic words that would make her understand, I missed a note, and Eric shot me a look straight from the depths of hell.

Fuck.

No one in the entire audience knew I’d screwed up, but Eric was glaring at me like I’d ruined the entire fucking show. I quickly shook my head, attempting to regain my focus and finish out the set.

“All right, people! We are Counting Backward! Thank you and good fucking night,” he shouted into the mic as our instruments swelled together in a frenzied crescendo.

After one last crash and choke of Will’s cymbal, the music came to a hard stop, leaving only the sound of the crowd. Eric swept his wild mane out of his face and saluted the audiencebefore heading backstage, followed by Will and Matt, who raised their hands to the sea of people illuminated by the spotlights sailing over them. I unplugged my guitar, trying not to let my gaze slip from Eva for fear she would disappear, and hurried to the front of the stage.

“Hey, can you meet me right outside the entrance? Don’t come backstage, it’s too crazy. I just need five minutes.”

She nodded, and the corners of her mouth turned up slightly. But she dropped her gaze to the floor so quickly I couldn’t tell if that hint of a smile meant she truly wanted to see me and hear me out, or if she was placating me until she could get me alone and go the fuck off on me. I rushed backstage, thoughts streaking through my brain in reds and oranges like taillights on the freeway at night.

You cannot fuck this up, Kincaid.

You cannot fuck this up.

You cannot—

A hand cuffed my forearm, its grip so tight that it stopped me in my tracks. I turned my head to see Eric, his eyes burning into me, and immediately jerked away from him. “What the hell?”

“What the fuck was that on the last song?”

“Dude, chill the fuck out,” I said, grabbing a towel and wiping the sweat off my face and chest.“I missed one goddamn note. The whole two hours.One.” I held up my finger for emphasis.

“What’s going on with you, Danny?” he asked, his tone indicating it wasn’t so much a question as it was an accusation.

“Nothing,” I snapped back at him as I crouched to open my guitar case. “What’s going on withyou?You’ve been a total asshole tonight.”

“Andyou’vebeen totally distracted.I mean, fucking up that note, dude? What if there were A&R people out there?”

“Well, Eric, I can pretty much guarantee you there were at least five label reps out there, and not one of them noticed afucking thing.” I placed my guitar in the case and slapped the locks shut. “You want me to count the number of timesyou’vemissed a note? Forgotten a lyric?It fucking happens. Plus, I think those guys at Pitfall really want us, man. I can feel it.”

“Shit like that falls apart all the time, and you fucking know it.”

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