Page 14 of Hard Rock Deceit
"It's nothing.I'mfine."
"Did you pull a muscle or something?" Iguessed.
He metmyeyes.
"Yeah."
"You should take it easy outthere."
"I'll do whatever it takes to put on my bestperformance."
He struggled with the shirt, favoring one shoulder. I felt badwatchinghim.
"Can I help?" Iasked.
He gave up andnodded.
With him grimacing and grunting, we managed to lift the shirt overhishead.
August's bare chest gleamed with sweat. The exertion of playing had him taking rough breaths. The peaks and valley of his firm abs rippled undertheskin.
My mouth went dry. I averted my gazequickly.
"Do me a favor?" he asked. "Don't tell the others. I don't want them toworry."
I noddeddumbly.
With a gentle hand on my arm, August squeezed his unspokenthanks.
How could I possibly last months on a bus with this man, if this was the way I reacted near him? I'd never been that kind of person, never been so swept up in these kind of feelings before. I hadn't even known it was possible for me to feel this way. I didn't know how to handle it, aside fromignoringit.
But with the warm, grateful look August flashed at me, I had a feeling I wasn't going to be able to ignore these feelingsforlong.
ChapterFive
August sentme on the bus ahead of the rest. The other band members were saying goodbye to their friends and family. I didn't want to snoop, but I wascurious.
I peeked out the window to see Ian and Hope still clinging to each other. The lead singer Noah Hart had his arm around two women. One of the girls had a strong resemblance to the lead singer. The same dark hair and dark eyes, both tall with strong cheekbones. I reasoned it had to be hissister.
The bassist came up behind the raven-haired girl and snatched her away, twirling her around with a grin as she shrieked. He placed her on her feet and planted a kiss on her lips. Noah threw a disgruntled look their way. I'd heard that the notorious playboy Cameron Thorne had finally settled down. It seemed the rumors about the bassist were true. And with his bandmate's sister,noless.
Not wanting to intrude further on their personal lives, I sat back down in my chair. I went over a few of the shots I'd taken of the concert. I was chagrinned to find most of them focused on August. The blur of his hair as his whole body rocked to the music. The fluid way his arms beat at the drums. The look on utter concentration on his face, eyesblazing.
I paused to examine a few of the photos more closely. Those lines between his brows had returned for the briefest of moments, that same frown as when he'd spoken to the roadie. I hadn't noticed while he was playing, but my camera had caught it. His face was lined with something almost like frustration, or discomfort. His shoulders weretense.
That might have been the moment he strained his shoulder muscle. And yet he'd continued playing without missing a beat. That was dedication. That was passion forhisart.
My eyes wandered out the window again to where the band members were saying goodbye to theirgirlfriends.
I reminded myself I wasn't there to pry. I was there to document. To capture Darkest Days in their element, to show the world their energy, their own passion. I still doubted whether or not I could do what August wanted, but if he believed in me, I was willing to give itatry.
August climbed back on the bus first, not having anyone to say goodbye to. He nodded at the camera in myhands.
"You get some good shots?" heasked.
"I think so. Is yourshoulderokay?"
"I'm fine. It was a momentaryspasm."
