Whatever it was…
It occurred to me that I didn’t want her to go, but, nevertheless, I pulled out my cell and called Joe to come and fetch her. “I’ll see you in the studio tomorrow,” I said. “You did good today, Firebird.” I grinned. “Can’t wait to see your tattoo.”
“And me yours…”
“At our first performance. And not before,” I smirked. I always removed my shirt toward the end of a gig and displayed the guitar tattooed on my back.
I escorted her to the front door. She turned and her beautiful green eyes lingered on mine. “Thanks for today…. I feel a lot more confident now.”
“We’ll do this again,” I said.
“Sounds good to me.”
I reached for the handle at the same time as she did. Our fingers touched and heat spread through me.
Fuck.
How the hell was I going to keep my dick in my pants?
Said dick twitched in response.
Ignoring my hard-on, I opened the door for her. She brushed past me as she stepped through. All soft curves and the scent of flowers.
She stopped and faced me. Before I realized I was doing it, I lifted my hand to her face, skimming her silky skin. A strand of her thick, blond hair had come lose from her pony, and I tucked it behind her ear. I bent and pressed my lips to her lovely warm cheek, kissing her.
Her breath hitched. “Bye, Axel,” she breathed.
“See you tomorrow, Firebird,” I said, resisting the urge to do something that would fuck everything up.
I closed the door after her, then headed for the shower to rub one out. I’d call the guys later and tell them I was staying in.
Tell them I was writing.
And I would be.
Writing about a girl who was scared of thunderstorms and avoided stepping on pavement cracks.
I couldn’t wait to open my notebook.6Sit still, sugar.” Hayley, Camila’s assistant said, flicking her chestnut brown braid over her shoulder. “You’ve got ants in your pants and I nearly poked you in the eye with this mascara wand.”
I was in my dressing room at the Roxy in West Hollywood, sitting in front of the mirror while she was putting on my makeup, changing my appearance like she was casting a glamour wand over me. ChiMera was leaving on tour next week and tonight we had a gig, my first backup singing performance with the band in front of a live audience. Evidently, they always ran through their set in a small venue before leaving on tour because, if they didn’t succeed there, they almost certainly wouldn’t succeed anywhere else.
“Sorry,” I apologized to Hayley. I still hadn’t gotten used to being ‘glammed up’. The past three weeks had been a frantic round of rehearsals, practices at Axel’s place, photo shoots, press, radio and TV interviews. My head was spinning, and I still wanted to pinch myself at every moment. Even more so because CM had arranged for Mom to have further treatment for her cancer, and maybe even a stem cell transplant if the doctors thought it feasible. How they’d found out about it was a mystery to me, but I was grateful and couldn’t stop thanking them. They’d said she was a member of my family and entitled to it under their health insurance scheme. Given that her cancer had already progressed, I knew it would cost the record label a lot…
I could hear that the sound system in the nightclub had kicked on, playing a selection of indie rock songs including The Killers ‘Run for Cover’ and The Strokes ‘Hard to Explain’. Soon it would be show time, and I’d be kidding myself if I said I wasn’t freaking nervous.
“Stand up, honey.” Hayley took my kick-ass bodycon black dress off its hanger. Shiny sequins overlaid a lightweight stretch knit lining that danced across a sleeveless, darted bodice with a V-neck and back. I slipped off my robe and stepped into it.
“Love your bird tattoo,” Hayley said, pulling up the hidden side zipper. “I’ll just give your hair an updo and you’ll be ready.”
I perched on my chair again while she separated and twisted my thick blond tresses. Hayley had been relegated to working on me while Camila did the guys’ stage makeup. I got on better with her than Camila, possibly because Hayley didn’t wander around in short red dresses displaying all her assets. Like me, she was new to this job and stoked to be traveling to Europe. I was looking forward to hanging out with her…
“Step into your shoes, girlfriend,” she said after she’d twisted my hair into an intricate sassy style complete with a small bun and braids looped around it.
I did as she asked. Stilettos weren’t a normal part of my wardrobe… I usually wore Keds. At least I didn’t need to walk far in the heels, just stand behind my mic at the side of the stage next to Zach.