Page 13 of Real Rocks
Saff
It was definitely strange singing a well-known, popular song with the person who wrote it. I lovedWasted By My Side. It was possibly my favourite ever track of Trash Gun’s - not that I’d ever admit it to Scott, and I knew the lyrics inside out and backwards. He’d suggested we run through it a couple of times before TheSB sound checked, to make sure it worked as he envisaged. Although neither of us were singing at full capacity, we bounced off each other, the phraseology coming easily as we traded lines. As the song reached its climax, Scott pulled me towards him, staring deep into my eyes as he sang the final words to me. I wriggled out of his embrace as the chords died down, not liking the way he was touching me.
Despite Scott’s touchy-feely efforts, it was almost as if I should have been part of Trash Gun, particularly given the applause we received from the technicians and other assembled musicians.
“Can’t wait to be on stage with you later,” he declared, giving me a big kiss on my cheek. “Gonna go and get some rest before the gig.”
For some reason, his actions made me edgy. I wished we had time to chill out, but we were on at seven sharp and there wasn’t any opportunity to go back to the hotel.
Darren and I had ended up going around the corner from the venue to get something for dinner instead.
Even before the gig started the backstage was hot and sweaty. The two bands were crammed into a small room, doubling as a dressing room. There was equipment everywhere and I clambered over guitar cases and drum containers to get to the only mirror in the place. It seemed pretty obvious they didn’t have many female bands in.
“You’re looking hot.”
I clocked Scott’s reflection as he came up behind me. “Didn’t think you’d be here until later,” I said, as I carried on lining my eyes with black kohl.
He stopped inches away from me. “Thanks for making the effort. I appreciate it.”
My hand froze. Did he seriously think I dressed for his benefit? Of all the arrogant pricks… “When I packed my tour wardrobe, I had no idea I’d be singing with you. None of this.” I gestured to my outfit; tight leather trousers and a slashed black and cerise t-shirt, the pink of which almost matched my hair. “Is for you.” I wanted to wipe the smirk off his face.
“Such a shame.” He quirked an eyebrow.
Had it been a few months ago, I would probably have played up to him. Might even have ended up in bed with him. Tris had changed all that. I no longer felt the need to garner attention from other men—look how my flirtation with Carl had turned out. The thought stopped me in my tracks. Why was I thinking of him at a time like this? He had, at least, been quiet ever since the launch party. Maybe he’d decided not to bother me anymore. I hoped that were true.
“Fifteen minutes to show!” The venue manager shouted into the room, his voice only just audible over the music Darren and Barney liked to play before a gig to get them in the right mood. The same music was also being piped out into the main room.
“Break a leg. I’ll see you on stage.” Scott slapped me on the arse, but before I could protest, he shot across the other side of the room to talk to his guitarist.
I was fuming. It was no wonder Rosie had dumped him. The ego on the man was beyond belief.
The first set was incredible. Apart from the comeback gig and the few songs we’d performed at the launch party, it had been a long time since we’d played live. A properly plugged in and turn-it-up-to-eleven kind of performance. Adrenaline buzzed around my bloodstream, giving me the ultimate legal high. While the crowd wasn’t massive by any means, there were enough people who enjoyed it and made it worth us being there. It wasn’t all about Trash Gun, despite what Scott thought.
When we came off stage, I immediately wanted to do it all over again. Nothing could beat the feeling. Well, except maybe being with Tris.
I collapsed into one of the chairs, fanning myself to try and cool off. Maybe I’d need to rethink my gig clothes, they were sticking uncomfortably to my skin.
“Decent show out there, babe.” Scott approached me, dressed in his stage gear of skinny jeans and a tight t-shirt which emphasised his wiry frame. “It seems they like you.”
Even he couldn’t bring me down and I wasn’t going to let him. “They needed warming up before you came on. I didn’t want to let them down.”
“Oh, you’re never a let-down.” He stepped toward me and traced a finger down my arm, causing me to jerk back. “Make sure you’re ready for our song.” And then he was gone.
I stared after him. He knew I was with Tris, so where did he get off flirting with me like that?
Darren watched our exchange from a distance before coming over. “You want me to stick around until after you’ve done your bit?”
“No, it’s fine. You head off with the guys and I’ll see you later.”
“Have you spoken to Tris yet?”
“Are you checking up on me?”
He shook his head. “Scott’s showing more than a professional interest in you and I don’t want Tris to get hurt. Again,” he added after a little thought.
It was sweet the way he was worrying, but there was no need. I had absolutely no attraction to Scott Lincoln, no matter what he thought. There would be no repeat of the Troy Carson incident.
“It’s fine. I know how to handle him.”
