Page 53 of I Need You Tonight
“I’m always happy to be on the road,” I said. “Playing live to the fans is where it’s at. It’s why we tour.”
“It’s how we all feel,” Aaron said, saving me from more questions about my dating life.
The interview continued until Nicole finally indicated it was time to wrap it up so we could get ready for tonight.
“Thank you for being on the show,” Stacey said before playing another of our songs and signaling we were off the air.
“Great interview, guys,” Dennis said. “You handled it like real pros.”
I wasn’t sure what he had expected. We’d been doing this for well over a year now. Wewerepros.
As much as I wanted to ride the elevator with just Nicole and resume what we had been doing earlier, it didn’t look like it would happen. There was no reason for us to not get on with everyone else.
The elevator door opened, and we all piled in, along with two interns. Nicole and I stood in the back. Everyone else faced forward, waiting for the doors to reopen, exchanging words about the interview, and generally not paying attention to us.
Encouraged by Nicole’s sweet scent, I rested my hand on her lower back. She stiffened slightly, then her muscles relaxed and she leaned into my touch. I caressed her back with my thumb. She sucked in a small breath, too quiet to be heard by anyone but me. I’d screwed a lot of women over the years, but this was the first time one had left me uneager to walk away from her anytime soon.
The fans were just as noisy when we left the building as when we arrived, maybe even more so, their screams building in crescendo. We stopped for a moment to sign a few more autographs. Fans from behind surged forward, wanting their chance to get closer to us.
I scanned the area and spotted Nicole climbing into our van. I let out a relieved sigh that she was safe should something happen. We’d had a few close calls in the past, although nothing the guys and I couldn’t handle. But there was a huge difference between Nicole and us when it came to size and strength.
Fans reached out, eager to touch us, straining against the ropes designed to hold them back. Sensing things could get crazy soon, we waved goodbye and hustled to the van. As I sat next to Nicole in the back row, the relief I’d experienced a moment ago once she was safely inside the vehicle was now mirrored on her face. I reached for her hand and threaded my fingers with hers. She gave them a light squeeze, her attention focused on the fans outside the window.
Excitement buzzed in the van as we drove to the arena, and continued to grow as the van entered the parking lot where the tour buses were parked. This was typical before a concert—except usually before our part of the show, I’d fuck a groupie or two to keep the edge off. Some people did yoga to help them relax. Some went for a jog. I couldn’t see myself as the yoga type, and as much as I enjoyed running to keep in shape, it didn’t do much to help me get ready for a show. But since I didn’t want to disappear for fifteen minutes to screw a groupie while Nicole was with us, I didn’t know what else to do.
We exited the van, Nicole and I no longer holding hands, and entered the arena through the back door. The security guard checked our IDs, which hung around our necks on lanyards, and let us past. For now, Nicole had only a visitor ID, but it permitted her access to most places in the arena the band was allowed to go.
We were directed to the stage, where the roadies were fiddling with last-minute adjustments to the setup. A huge black banner formed a backdrop, separating Endless Motion’s equipment from our smaller part of the stage. That was the disadvantage of being the opening act: we didn’t get as much room to move around in. Nothing like for the main act. It didn’t matter to me, since I was the drummer. It wasn’t like I could go anywhere. But Nolan loved to move around when he sang, making the most of the stage.
The guys and I jumped up onto the platform while Nicole watched from the arena floor. We took our positions, and after the sound guy made the necessary adjustments, we played the set’s opening song.
While drumming, I watched Nicole dance around, moving to the beat I was creating. Over the years I’d seen how the fans responded to our music, but seeing how much she was enjoying it caused a ripple of pride inside me. It was the first time I’d felt anything like that. And it was the same pride I’d experienced after playing on the piano the music I’d created that no one had heard before…except for Nicole in that moment.
I could’ve easily played the rest of our set if it meant getting to watch her move like that some more.
With the sound check finished, we went backstage to prepare for tonight. We changed into our stage clothes and headed for the area designated for the meet-and-greet. This was our chance to visit with the fans who had won the opportunity to meet Pushing Limits and Endless Motion. When we first started touring after the release of our debut album, only a few individuals would trickle into the room set up for the band. Some had come into the wrong room, looking for Crazy Piper instead of us. But by the time we’d finished touring with them, our designated room had been packed each time. Because of that, the record label had decided we needed a bigger room on this tour. Even so, it was still packed.
We stood side by side near the exit, with the fans herded toward us like cattle. While it wasn’t my favorite way of doing things, at least it gave them a chance to meet us.
The large room smelled like a nightclub, minus the booze, with an extra helping of perfume. And it wasn’t easy to hear over the chattering of fans as they waited their turn, or the occasional individuals singing our songs in the background, as if auditioning to replace Nolan in the band.
“Can I get a picture of us together?” a woman asked, her long black hair styled in hundreds of tiny braids. She was hot in a tight T-shirt that clung to her sexy curves. She was the type of woman I would’ve been more than happy to screw before the show.
But instead of flirting with her, I glanced around for Nicole. Disappointment kicked me in the nuts when I couldn’t find her.
“Sure,” I said to the fan.
She stepped up to me, pressing her large tits against my arm, and shot the picture, her head close to mine. She checked how it looked and grinned, happy with the results, which was a relief. Some girls weren’t happy just to get a picture with a member of the band. The photo had to be worthy of the cover ofRolling Stone.
She thanked me and moved on to Kirk.
The girl behind her approached me, bouncing up and down like a cheerleader who had to take a piss. “OMG! I love you so much, Mason!” she shrieked. I managed to hold back a grimace. As much as I loved meeting the fans, there was a level of fangirling that was hard to take. She was approaching that line.
I smiled at her, but then had second thoughts about doing that when it looked like she might faint.Note to self: hold back on patented panty-dropping smile whenever dealing with fangirls who shriek.
“I can’t believe I’m actually meeting you,” she gushed, her words coming in a hurry. “You’re, like, the sexiest man alive.”
I laughed. “Tell that toPeoplemagazine.”
