Page 37 of Bulletproof
CHAPTER NINE
Portland was insane. Security had already ousted two groups of tough guys for brawling when the mosh pit turnedbloody. Derek smiled. It was just like the good old days. If someone fell while moshing, no one helped them up. They got a boot to the head. This crowd was old school. Fists flying, elbows to the face, and kicks to the chest meant they were having a good time. These dudes weren’t part of the new generation of moshers, who thought a mosh pit meant running in a circle. They were hardcore.
After security started hauling people away for their lack of control, the fans calmed down and resorted to crowd surfing. It was clean fun where no one got injured.
“Look at this shit!” Derek yelled into the microphone, a laugh punctuating his words. He’d seen a lot of shit go down, but this was a first. An older dude wearing camo with some kind of military logo, obviously aveteran, floated on top of the crowd, his wheelchair traveling beside him. He seemed nervous, keeping an eye on his chair and reaching for it as they were both carried to the front of the arena. The chair came down first, and security held it in place as he was safely deposited into it. The man bellowed with excited laughter and high-fived those at the front of the railing.
Brandonleaned over the end of the stage and stretched his long arm out to shake the man’s hand. The man stared back at Brandon, eyes wide, with a humungous awestruck grin on his face. Security motioned for the man to move from the space between the railing and the stage, but Brandon told security to let the guy stay so he had a front row seat for the rest of the show. Derek threw a couple of guitar picksinto the guy’s lap, while Jeremy grabbed a drum stick from Alan’s stick bag and handed it to him.
“Bulletproof supports our veterans! Thank you for serving this great country!” Brandon yelled into the mic, causing a riotous uproar of cheers from the crowd.
Now that the furor had wound down, Derek turned to the side of the stage, expecting to see Travis. He had becomeaccustomed to performing under the watchful eye of his lover, but the spot was shadowed with emptiness. It remained unoccupied for the rest of the show, and Derek left the stage with a small lull of disappointment dampening his spirits.
Reckless’ dressing room was empty, with no sign of Travis. On the bus ride to the hotel, Derek sent Travis a text.
Derek: Party in thesuite down the hall. Come by in an hour or so.
Travis: How will I know which room?
Derek chuckled. The entire hotel will probably know which room.
Derek: Just follow the noise.
Renting a separate suite for the afterparty proved to be a really cool idea, andDerek wondered why they had never thought of it before. Granted, it was cash out of pocket, but it brought a sense of freedom to know that he could leave the mess and all-night partiers behind once he chose to retreat to the privacy of his own room.
He walked aimlessly through the crowd of people, bobbing his head toDangerousby Shaman’s Harvest, in search of Travis. He hadn’t seenthe guy since late last night when they left Eugene, Oregon. Both Reckless and Bulletproof had been busy. The fistfight Travis and Mark had a few days ago had garnered Reckless a ton of press. On top of that, both bands were due to attend an awards ceremony in a few days, which necessitated additional promotional commitments. It was ironic how they could be on the same tour, yet some days wereso busy they didn’t get to see one another.
As Derek navigated through the crowd in search of his lover, a groupie caught him by the arm. The heavy scent of alcohol hit him in the face as rough razor stubble brushed against his cheek and lips touched his ear.
“It was a great show,” the groupie said, as he leaned into Derek.
“Thanks. It was a lot of fun.”
“Wanna have some more fun?” The guy’s hand slid lower and cupped Derek’s crotch.
“No.” He questioned the refusal with surprise. He’d never turned down sex before. And the automatic response floored him.
“Come on.” Persistent, the groupie tugged on Derek’s belt. “It’ll be quick. Let’s duck in the bathroom. Or the kitchen.”
Derek pushed the groupie’shands off him. “Sorry. I’m looking for someone.”
The groupie pursed his lips to the side, obviously annoyed at the brush off. “Well, if you’re looking for Travis Fontana, he looks a little busy.”
“What are you talking about?” Following the groupie’s pointed finger, Derek spotted Travis across the room surrounded by several beautiful women. The one closest to Travis hungon his arm, and the others competed for his attention. It irked the hell out of Derek. Men presented enough of a problem, but competing with an additional gender, one of batting eyelashes, soft skin, voluptuous curves, and parts he didn’t possess, drove a jealous spike through his gut. He knew how persuasive the female population could be. He had to admit, women held a lot of sex appeal – certainlynothing he’d ever be interested in – but it wasn’t beyond his scope of perception to see what men saw in the opposite sex. Women were beautiful, and none seemed to know it more than Travis Fontana.
Always on the same mental wavelength, they felt the other’s gaze, no matter how many people were in the room, and Travis made eye contact with Derek through the mass of people. Travis’face lit up with the usual happy-go-lucky smile, and he waved Derek over with his drink.
Derek weaved through the crowd, acknowledging the pats on his back and the quick hellos, but he didn’t stop to speak to anyone. He was on a mission to swoop in and steal Travis’ attention. He greeted Travis with a kiss on the lips and a body-pressing hug that raised his internal temperature severaldegrees.
“Mmm, I missed you too,” Travis cooed softly.
“How long have you been here?”
“About fifteen minutes. I was just about to text you, but a friend of mine showed up. I want you to meet her.” Travis held his arm open toward the pretty blonde to his left. “This is my best girl, Ashley.”
Derek almost choked on the thickened saliva in his throat.“Y-your what?”
“My best girl.”
