Page 30 of Hinder
What is wrong with me?I’m staring at his package. His very impressive package. My eyes are practically glued to it.Look away!I scream the words inside my head but my body takes much longer to react.
By the time my gaze travels up his chest and back to his eyes, he’s staring back, a slight smile on his lips. “I should . . .” He doesn’t finish his thought, but turns and jogs back to the raised drum set on stage.
Thank goodness, too. My cheeks burn with the heat of my blush and I can’t imagine what I could say to him, more than making an even bigger fool of myself.
At the swell of the crowd’s screams, Leighton counts off the beat and leads the band into a variation of The Rolling Stones’ “Satisfaction.” It’s as if they read my mind. Dear Lord. Get me through the rest of this night in one piece, and the rest of the tour—specifically without throwing out my morals in exchange for an irresistible rock star.
12
Leighton
High as a kite.Soaring higher than a plane. That’s how it feels playing for thousands of screaming, singing, amazing fans, and I haven’t taken a damn thing. The natural buzz reverberates and courses through my veins with an unmatched energy even after we hop off stage.
I’m already addicted.
“You did good tonight, kid.” Austin tips his chin with a compliment that shouldn’t mean so much considering I’ve only known him a few days.
“Thanks. That was . . . fuck.” I run my hand along the nape of my neck as the realization hits me. “That was the most fun I’veeverhad playing.” I’ve performed on some of the most prestigious stages in the world, and yet none produced the level of joy pulsating from my soul right now.
“Not bad, huh?” Austin slings his arm around my shoulder and we shuffle in tow with the rest of the band toward the bus.
“Is it always that . . . powerful?”
“You get used to some of this . . .” He juts his finger over his shoulder before turning to wave at the crowd of fans not twenty yards away.
“I love you, Austin Jones!” a woman shouts, thankfully from behind the gate. That’s one thing I have to appreciate. The tour has been managed down to every little detail, including precautions for our safety. The obsessive fans are slightly terrifying, and I get the feeling they’d maul any one of us if given the chance.
He lets loose a chuckle and walks us forward. “The crazy. You get used to the crazy. But on stage it doesn’t matter how many times or how many places we play, it’s always good. Humbling, considering it wasn’t that long ago we played dive bars for free beer.”
They’ve done all the heavy lifting, and I’m here enjoying the harvest. That can’t be easy. It’s no secret Three Ugly Guys has struggled over the years to keep a drummer. I’m damn lucky to be here. Okay, maybe luck doesn’t have everything to do with it. A little eavesdropping mixed with a little blackmail is more like it. But there’s nothing wrong with playing dirty if no one gets hurt.
“You ladies coming? Or you gonna chat out here all night?” Trent calls to us from the open bus door.
“Fuck you!” Austin hollers, but there’s no trace of anger in his words. Only a sense of comradery and brotherhood. A strange pang of jealousy twists in my gut. I’ve never been one to want something I don’t have. Mostly because I get whatever I want. But money can’t buy their kind of friendship, and it’s something I’ve never had. Or ever will.
My uncle sits at the table inside the bus, and his eyebrows rise a tick as I step inside ahead of Austin. I wasn’t self-conscious with my shirt off on stage, but one look from him and I suddenly am. Appearances are important, and he’s told me over and over how absolutelyun-rock ’n roll I am, and to do whatever the wardrobe team asked. But it was hot as hell on that stage.
Austin plops into one of the recliners and slaps his stomach. “I’m starving.”
“Good show tonight.” My uncle sets his cell down on the table and meets Trent’s stare. “Opener needs work. I’ll talk to them before I head back to LA.”
“Not gonna ride along for our next stop?” Trent’s lips pull into a smirk as he leans against the opposite wall, next to where Opal sits in a chair. It takes everything in my willpower not to stare at her legs or how high up that modest dress rides over her crossed legs.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Bedo shoves to his feet and grabs his phone. “You don’t need a babysitter.”
Sean coughs. Austin fights laughter. Trent holds his smirk.
I’m missing something here.
“Three hours ’til the buses roll out.” Bedo stops at the door, turning to point and glare at each of us a long second. “Don’t be late.”
As soon as he’s out the door Trent walks over to the kitchen and grabs a water from the fridge.
“I’m gonna make a call.” Sean nods at Trent. “Cool if I use your room?”
“As long as you don’t jerk off in there, knock yourself out.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll use your pillow to wipe my hands.” Sean chuckles, then ducks as Trent hurls the water bottle at his head.
