Kate
“I cannot believe it!” My face is splitting in half I’m grinning so big. “You’re going on tour? With U2?”
Dax nods, his smile larger than any I’ve ever seen on his handsome face. I’m so proud of him and the other guys I could just burst.
“We are, angel. I want you to come with.” Dax pulls me into his arms, nuzzling his mouth and nose against my neck.
“Dax.” He places kisses up and down the sensitive skin, sucking my earlobe into his mouth. “God, Dax. I want to, but I can’t go on tour with you.” My breath is coming faster and heavier. I can’t think when he’s doing that.
“What?” Dax stops, pulling back to face me. “Why not? I want you there.”
“I want to be there. But you said it’s in four months. I have school, Dax. And it’s footy season. If I don’t keep my grades up and continue football, they’ll pull my scholarship.” My hands find their way under his shirt, using my thumbs to caress the skin on either side of his waist just above his low-slung jeans.
“But… I’ll be gone for six weeks.” His brows pull together and his beautiful lips turn into a frown.
I laugh. “You’re being silly, Dax. I’m not going anywhere. It’s good timing actually. I’ll be so busy with my studies and traveling to matches, we wouldn’t be seeing each other much either way.”
Still sulking, Dax thinks about it for a minute. “I don’t like it. I want you with me, Kate.”
Really?
Removing my hands from his skin, I cross my arms. “I’m not quitting school to go on tour with a rock band, Dax. So you’ll have to adjust. We have all summer, and then when you’re gone, we’ll talk every night and you can send me photos and text. Good thing you got me that mobile, yeah?”
Dax nods, but it’s stiff. He doesn’t like this at all. Stubborn, bossy Dax isn’t getting his way and he doesn’t know what to do. Did he really think I’d just give up my life to follow him around the country?
Taking another look at my sullen boyfriend I realize that yes, yes he did.
51
Dax
Four months later
“This is un-fucking-believable!” Hawke exclaims as we head inside Madison Square Garden in New York City to start the U.S. leg of our tour opening for U2.
Adam walks right out onstage, stopping in the center. He looks out over the arena, bustling with the crew that is putting everything together for tonight’s show. I have to say, he belongs there. The gloom and doom mood that’s been over him for the last year seems to lift while he’s on the massive stage.
He turns to me and grins, waving me over. Once there, Adam slings an arm around my shoulders. “Can you believe this? A couple of years ago we were playing in dusty old an abandoned basement. Now—” he releases me, spreading his arms wide, “we’re in New York fucking City and we’re going to play to a sold out crowd.”
“Yeah, who woulda thought two blokes from Hackney could ever get here?” I look around at everything, the lights, the massive, four-story telly behind us, the twenty thousand empty seats that will have people in them tonight. “It’s bloody overwhelming, Adam.”
Adam’s grin dissolves into a frown. “If only—”
“Don’t do it mate. You can only go forward.” I give him the same advice I’ve been repeating since Ellie broke up with him a little over a year ago. Adam and I turned that advice into a song of the same name that has become an instant hit from our new album, You Can Only Go Forward.
“Right. I know. Forward.”
“Alrighty!” The tour manager, Aaron Shiftley, claps his hands to get us to gather around. “Your instruments are still being brought in so sound check won’t be for an hour. After that you have a pre-concert fan meet and greet, then wardrobe. Okay?” We all nod, not having any clue what to do except what we’re told. Ross is just off stage on the phone. He usually conveys the information to us as to what to do and where to be, but this bloke is in charge of everything, so if he wants to tell us directly, then he will.
We all nod and grunt in understanding.
“Then get backstage and rest up. I’ll see you out here in one hour. Do not be late. U2 has their sound check after yours and I will not have them held up, got it?” Satisfied we all understand, like we’re small children or something, he shoos us away.
“Well, that guy is something else,” Hawke whispers.
“Yeah. Real charmer, he is,” I agree.
We get to our dressing room, which is really just a large room with a few chairs and a sofa with a big rack of clothing in the center, and flop down to wait. Adam wanders over to a side table loaded down with snacks while Gavin and Hawke fire up some sort of gaming console.
I figure I should ring Kate now, since it doesn’t seem as if there will be time later. Slipping out quietly, I find an empty room right across the hall.
“Dax?”
“Hello, angel. I wanted to ring you before it got too crazy.”
“I wish I could be there tonight, Dax. You’re going to be amazing.”
Kate’s praise makes my skin warm and my heart soar. It’s nice to hear good things about yourself that don’t involve your ability to smash someone’s nose in with your elbow.
“Thanks. I wish you were here too.” Ross had said he could arrange for Kate to fly out for tonight’s concert, courtesy of our label, but, to my extreme displeasure, Kate has a football match tonight and an exam tomorrow so it was impossible.
“It’s going to be a long six weeks, isn’t it?” she says sadly.
Sighing, I flop down on a nearby sofa. “Yeah. It is. You can still join me in our next city.”
“Dax, I can’t. You know this. Let’s not have another row.”
I grunt, unhappy with her decision. “All right. I’ll leave it be.”
“Just, don’t forget about me.” The melancholy in her voice is evident.
“I’m not going to shag a bunch of groupies, angel. I’m not Adam.” She’s so insecure and she has no reason to be. She’s gorgeous, fun, fit, everything I could want. Everything I do want.
“Right, you never shag groupies, Dax.” Kate’s sarcastic tone can’t be missed. She’s alluding to my previous hookups. And she’s right. Before her, I played around a lot and didn’t care who it was.
“If we’re together I don’t shag anyone but you. You know that. There’s no comparison.”
“It’s—”
“There you are!” A piercing squeal interrupts our conversation. I look up and am horrified to see a familiar figure in the doorway.
“Lila?” I’m so shocked, I can’t help but say her name.
“Lila? Lila’s there with you?” Kate asks, sounding alarmed.
I can’t respond to Kate, I’m too bloody surprised to see her former flatmate flinging herself at me, landing solidly in my lap.
“What the fuck, Lila?” I struggle to move her off as she winds her arms around my neck, locking on tight.
“Dax! What the hell is going on?” Kate is shouting through the phone while I remove Lila and dump her on the sofa.
“Dax, honey, stop pretending to be surprised to see me here,” Lila says, plastering her body against me again. Angrier than I’ve been in a while, I shove her back with complete disregard to the fact that she’s a girl. She stumbles, nearly going arse over tit on her bloody high heels.
“Stay the fuck away from me! You’re mental!” I hiss, taking a step back. “Hello? Kate?” There’s no response from my mobile. When I look at the screen, I see that the call has been disconnected.
Putting my back to Lila, I grind my teeth, warring between two different rules at the same time.
Rule 2—Never let your emotions show.
Rule 3—Women who act like slags can be treated like slags.
I’ll hit her if I don’t get it under control and I can’t have that. She’s a cow, but she is a girl. Plus, she’d have me tossed in jail. Rule 2 wins. Breathing slowly, I put my mobile in my pocket, uncurling my fists. Turning sl
owly, I face the girl who has caused me more problems than I can count.
“Why. Are. You. Here.” I keep my cold, hard mask up, determined not to let her see how much she affects me.
“Oh Daxey, my daddy is the producer for your latest album. Didn’t you know that? I asked if I could have a job on this tour and he made me the assistant to the tour publicist. Isn’t that great?”
Daxey? Job on tour? Publicist? Isn’t she in school?
Lila is smiling, but her eyes aren’t. They’re cruel, cunning, and full of secrets. She knows exactly what she’s doing.
I shove past her before I do something stupid. Storming into the dressing room, I spot Ross in the corner chatting with who-the-fuck-knows and who-the-fuck-cares.
“Ross, I need to have a chat.”
He looks up and does a double take when he sees me. Shit. I must not be hiding my anger very well. I’m out of practice, used to being free to feel however I want around Kate and not care that she knows.
“Sound check is in thirty minutes,” he says to the others after dismissing the two blokes. “Let’s go to the other room.” Ross directs me towards a door to the right. Once it’s closed behind us, he whirls around, concern on his face. “What’s going on? You look like you’re ready to kill someone.”
“I might just do that,” I growl, cursing under my breath as I once again try to manage my building anger. “Fuck, Ross. Why didn’t you tell us that Lila was going to be on tour with us?”
Ross jerks back in surprise. “Lila? Who’s Lila?” He is genuinely baffled.
“You didn’t know?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he admits.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Sebastian Griffin.”
“The producer of your album?” Ross asks.
“Yeah. Does he have a daughter?”
“What?” Ross seems uncertain where this conversation is headed. “Well, yes…” He presses his mouth into a tight line. “Tell me you didn’t fuck the boss’ daughter, Dax.”
That’s it. I snap and Ross has the unfortunate luck of being the closest one to me when it happens. Ross stumbles as I surge forward. He ends up with his back pressed against the door. I get as close as I can without actually touching his ridiculous thousand-dollar suit.
“No I didn’t fuck her! She’s been trying to fuck me for the past year and a half!” I roar. “She’s Kate’s old flatmate, Ross!”
His eyes widen further than I would have thought possible. “The one who stalks you at the clubs?”
“Yes, that one! I didn’t know her last name! I can’t have her on tour with me, Ross. She’s fucking mental!” I back up, pacing the room while I concentrate on not punching the wall or something else that would injure my hand and make me miss the show.
Ross steps forward, shaking his head, genuine remorse in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Dax. But she’s literally is the boss’s daughter. I can’t fire her.”
“What the hell am I supposed to do?”
Ross’s gaze hardens and he straightens out his suit, tugging at his shirtsleeves. He turns from Hawke’s kind uncle into the professional Hollywood manager in the blink of an eye. The one who doesn’t tolerate rock stars who have temper tantrums.
“I suggest you ignore her. She’s a ninety-pound girl, Dax. She can’t force you to do anything. You’ll figure something out.”
With that, he turns and exits the room, leaving me with the raging urge to punch someone and a near crippling desire to throw Lila Griffin over a cliff.
“Dax! Sound check!” Someone calls for me from the other room. I storm off, hoping the music will take my mind off of Lila and her bloody fucking shit.
It’s not until we’re getting back to our hotel, early in the morning, after one of the biggest moments of my life that I realize I never rung Kate back.
Fuck me.
Kate
“So what? You’re just never going to talk to your stony boyfriend again? That’s ridiculous and immature, Kate.” Abby is glaring at me from the opposite side of our table at a tiny Mexican restaurant near our flat.
“No. I didn’t say that. I… I need to figure out what I’m going to do, that’s all. And why are you calling him stony?”
Abby laughs. “You know, because he’s always so… composed.”
“You only notice things like that because you’re obsessed with trying to figure people out, Miss Psychologist.” He is stony and composed, but I won’t give Abby the satisfaction of being right. I drag my fork through my chile relleno, not interested in actually eating it. In fact, I’ve probably lost a half stone since hearing Dax with Lila at the New York concert.
Lila. On tour with Dax. My slutty ex-flatmate around my boyfriend twenty-four hours a day for the next six… well, now five, weeks.
“Have you decided?”
I stare at her blankly, having missed the question. “What you’re going to do about Dax. Have you decided?” Abby asks again.
“No. It’s just,” I take in a deep breath, willing myself not to cry. I’ve cried more than enough over the last week. “I can’t compete, Abby.”
She wrinkles her nose. “Compete? What does that mean?”
I huff. What would Abby know about feeling invisible? She always looks like she’s ready to pose for a swimsuit magazine, all tall, tan, and skinny, with beach-ready blonde waves cascading down her back and big blue eyes.
“What am I, Abby? Honestly? I’m nothing special. I’m not gorgeous, I’m not rich, I’m not posh… I’m just some plain girl from the East End. Why wouldn’t my boyfriend go on the pull while he’s on tour? He’ll have girls like Lila flashing their tits at him every chance they get.”
Abby sits back in her chair with her arms crossed, looking bored. “Are you done?”
Heat fills my cheeks in embarrassment.
“Now, look at me and listen up.” Her harsh tone gets my attention right quick. “You are not,” she puts up her fingers and makes quotes, “‘some plain girl from the East End’. You’re beautiful, smart, and one of the most talented soccer players I’ve ever seen. You have to stop putting yourself down all the time, Kate. If Dax didn’t want you, he wouldn’t be with you. It’s as simple as that.” She finishes drinking her lemonade and fishes out an ice cube to munch on. “And what makes him so much better than you anyway?”
I shrug, not knowing what she’s looking for me to say.
“Hmph. He’s not better than you, that’s why.” She swallows down the remainder of the ice. “Money, fame, good looks… those things don’t make anyone better than you. Some of the most attractive people I’ve ever met are actually quite hideous on the inside.”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t use your psychology crap on me, Abby.”
“It’s not crap. It’s true. God, you need a shrink to help with that low self-esteem of yours. You have to trust that Dax loves you. If he doesn’t, then you’ll find out.” Abby pushes her plate away and signals for our server.
“He’s never even told me he loves me, Abby. It’s just that…” I sigh. “I’ve loved him for so long. He was always unattainable to me. I guess I’m afraid it won’t last.”
“He’s not a guy who lays his feeling out there, Kate. You’re looking for reasons to end things so you don’t have to be hurt if he’s the one to end it.”
“I hate that you’re so smart.” I throw some money down on top of Abby’s when the check comes.
“It’s the psychology major in me,” she giggles. “So, will you answer when he calls?”
Abby bumps my hip with hers as we exit onto the crowded sidewalk. “Yeah, I will.”
“Awesome. Now, let’s go work on our tans. The beach is calling.” She flips down her sunglasses and I do the same. Arms linked, we begin the three-block walk to the nearest beach.
As much as I want to believe Abby, the insecure girl inside is begging me to end things with Dax so he can’t hurt me. I have to swallow down the bile that threatens to rise at the thought of never seeing him
again. From that reaction, I’d say there’s a big part of me doesn’t want to let him go.
Dax
“Daxey! I need you!”
Fuck!
I cringe at the sound of that squeaky, high-pitched voice. It’s like nails on a chalkboard. Avoiding her is exhausting and it’s only been two weeks.
“Daxey! I need you!” Adam mocks in a singsong voice, strumming his guitar along with. Hawke and Gavin crack up—at my expense, naturally.
“Sod off, Reynolds.” I give him a quick punch in the arm, earning a loud “ouch” for my effort.
I’ve only just gotten Kate to start speaking to me again after we found out Lila is going to be on the tour. I don’t want to have to deal with any more of Lila’s bullshit that could cock up my relationship again. One week of the cold shoulder from Kate was plenty.
With quick knock on the door of our dressing room, Lila enters without waiting for an invite.
“Fuck, Lila. What if one of us was changing in here?” I snarl.
She rolls her eyes, teetering on her ridiculous heels as she crosses the room towards me. “You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before, Daxey. Not that I wouldn’t mind seeing what you’re packing.” Lila licks her lips and stares at my crotch. My damn traitorous dick twitches from the scrutiny of a hot woman. It doesn’t seem to care that I despise her.
Son of a bitch!
“Whatever.” I turn my back to her and pick up my guitar plucking on it randomly, determined to do what Ross suggested and ignore her.
“Can we help you, Lila?” Hawke asks, thankfully coming to my rescue.
Lila starts to sneer at him, but fixes a plastic smile on her face. There’s something more going on between Hawke and Lila, some history I don’t know. Not that I’d ask, but they truly despise each other, and it seems to go further back than just this tour.