Ace (Band of Brothers #1) Page 5

Behind me two girls were standing on their tiptoes. "Do you see him?"

  "Hell no. Not surprising. He’s never out here with the rest of them."

  The door opened to the lead bus. I looked to see a woman with brown hair and long tanned legs exit.

  "That's why he wasn't out here. She's a skank," one of the girls said.

  I held back a laugh and held my camera above the crowd and continued to take pictures. Minutes later, Ace walked off the bus in different clothes than what he was wearing earlier and met his brothers. More screams from the crowd and people rushed toward him. I made my way to the back and stood and watched with camera in hand.

  I couldn't help but admire them. They seemed so comfortable when surrounded by so many people.

  After everyone had seen the band, the brothers stood around and talked to the crowd for a few moments. Ace made eye contact with me and I didn't look away. His brothers turned and looked at me as well and that's when I felt the need to run. Wanting a distraction, I carefully tucked my camera back into its case and slid it over my shoulder. I pulled my phone from my pocket and slowly walked away while I texted Jules my update.

  Me: I met Ace.

  Jules: And?

  Me: I already don't like him.

  Jules: Pretend.

  Me: that's going to be hard.

  Jules: I have faith in you. But it's late. I'm going to bed. Keep the updates coming.

  Me: Night. I will. Unless I quit.

  Jules: You better not. I'll beat your ass!

  Me: haha. Okay. Chat tomorrow.

  I walked back to the bus remembering to grab my guitar from the storage underneath. I couldn't let my baby ride under there to the next venue. I'd have to find a place for her, or she'd be sharing a bunk with me. I walked inside past all the smiling faces and placed my camera and computer on my bunk, closed the curtain, then stepped back off the bus.

  I wanted to play.

  I could feel it in my fingers.

  7

  Ace

  I was exhausted after the show, but regardless I brought the cutie I had pulled on stage back to my bus. She was pretty in her own way and tall. She had to be at least six-foot and with heels on she stood eye to eye with me. With blue eyes and dark hair, she seemed exotic. As I walked across the parking lot with her tucked under my arm, I asked myself why I continued to do it. I reasoned with myself and figured that once the lights and the electricity of the crowd faded, I wanted to fill the void in my life, even if it was superficial.

  The night ended exactly how most of my shows did. I didn't remember her name, but at least this one left the bus satisfied. Admittedly, she was an animal in bed and while I liked to take control, I'd let her try to rock my world without breaking my own rules. But she didn't care about kissing. She wanted to be fucked—hard. Her wish was my command.

  Afterwards she slipped me her business card and placed her panties on my dresser as a reminder of what I had, then walked off the bus. Only if every fuck was like that one: satisfying and easy with no hopes of anything else. I showered, removing all of the stank from the night and changed into some clean clothes before throwing the panties in the trash and heading outside. I knew my brothers had arrived because the crowds' screams penetrated through the walls. I ran my fingers through my wet hair and sucked in a deep breath, then joined them.

  The humidity was hell and practically knocked me on my ass. The air was so thick and warm, it felt dirty to breathe, but I wore a smile and continued toward the group of people huddled around my brothers. I pulled out my sharpie and started signing t-shirts, hats, CDs, and body parts. I wondered how many tattoos of my signature would be forever etched into someone's skin tonight.

  I scanned the crowd, hundreds of pairs of eyes were on me, but when mine met Elizabeth Riley's, I saw the glimmer of a fierce woman staring back at me. Our gazes held long enough for a fan to turn to see who had grabbed my attention with such fervor. I smiled and lifted an eyebrow at her and watched the fire fade. Confidence in women was sexy, but Elizabeth Riley lacked it on so many levels.

  Jex, Rex, and Nik all stood beside me and noticed me staring at her. Seconds later, we smiled for a picture. Flashes snapped like little balls of fireworks being set at different times. Spots of green color splashed in my vision when I closed my eyes. We had our own personal paparazzi of fans, but I loved it. When I glanced back to find Elizabeth, she wasn't there. I searched around and saw her walking back to her bus with her cell phone in her hand.

  Nik looked at me with lifted eyebrows and I shook my head, continuing to schmooze the fans. Once the small crowd faded away, I walked across the parking lot until I met up with Miley.

  "Now what?" she asked with a joking tone in her voice.

  "Nothing. I needed to get away from it all."

  "Then make yourself useful. Help me wrap these cables."

  People bustled around us wheeling large speakers and scaffolding for the lights down the backstage ramps to be loaded in the trailer. Our logo filled the entire side of the semi. It was cool to see it blown up to that size.

  "So the show was good?" Miley said as she wrapped wire around her shoulder to her elbow.

  "Yeah, I thought it went great. The pit was insane. Did you see everyone?"

  She nodded. "You are the Band of Brothers. I don't expect anything less."

  She set the cables onto a large pile and started pulling another one.

  "Do you have any extra strings for an acoustic guitar?"

  "Ask Romeo. I think there are some on the equipment trailer."

  I gave her a smile and walked backstage past the crew until I saw Romeo.

  "What's up?" He looked at me.

  "You have any acoustic strings? I thought I packed extras on the bus, but didn't see them."

  He laughed at me and led me over to the trailer that held our guitars. He opened the side door and walked in, then came off with a stack of strings.

  "Ernie Balls Strings, right?"

  He handed me the packages with a smile then went back to what he was doing.

  "Need anything else, let me know," he said as he turned and walked away.

  I needed to restring my acoustic guitar when I got back on the bus. Though we were touring, it didn't affect my songwriting. Luckily all of my brothers played, so we collaborated on music while we were on the road, but I had made a goal of having at least 5 finished songs to play for them by the end of the summer tour.

  As I walked back to the bus, I heard the light strumming of a guitar on the other side of one of the tech buses. I stood still for a moment and listened. The strumming was clean, but I couldn't place the song until the lyrics came in. It was a female voice, controlled and pretty. I Can't Help Falling in Love by Elvis Presley never sounded so beautiful.

  I took a few steps to the end of the bus and peeked around to see Elizabeth Riley playing with her eyes closed, singing, sitting on the edge of the sidewalk.

  "Falling in love...with…you,” she sang.

  When she finished, I immediately started clapping.

  She was absolutely horrified that I’d heard or even seen her. Her mouth dropped open and her cheeks turned bright red. She opened her guitar case and quickly put her guitar away, and then stood and walked away as fast as she could.

  "Elizabeth," I said.

  She stopped walking and looked up at the stars in the sky. I watched as she breathed in deeply, then continued walking. If she wouldn't stop for me, she wouldn't stop for anyone.

  8

  Elizabeth

  Embarrassed didn't fully explain how I felt. I didn't play in front of anyone and I thought I was safe to lightly strum and sing behind the bus. I looked up at the stars and tried to rein in my emotions.

  "Elizabeth," Ace said, jogging across the parking lot toward me, but all I wanted to do was get on my bus, shut the curtain to my bed, and be alone.

  "Hey," he said once he had caught up with me.

  I stopped and glared at him.

  "What?" I finally
responded to him.

  "You're good. Has anyone ever told you that before?"

  "You weren't supposed to hear that."

  I glanced down at his hand and saw the stack of strings. He used the same ones that I did. I tried to hold back a smile.

  "Ernie ball acoustics?" I said.

  I nodded. "They're the best strings on the market, but I guess you know that already. How long have you been playing?"

  "Since I was seven. My dad played and taught me as soon as he could. Though he always wanted a drummer in the family." I laughed, thinking back to when I first started learning. My fingers were so small, even for a child's guitar but I was a natural.

  "You're interesting, Elizabeth Riley." Ace narrowed his eyes at me and that burning sensation traveled over my skin again sending spikes and prickles. I was already standing on the edge, trying to get away from him, but something about him pulled me back.

  "No, I'm not. I'm a girl who loves to play music and loves to write. There's nothing interesting about that."

  He smiled and licked his bottom lip. His eyes were a swirl of bright green and light brown that mixed together to create a color so sexy that all I wanted to do was get lost in them. The hot air swept over our bodies and he let out a small chuckle. My nerves were in overdrive and I couldn't believe I’d said any of that to him. My courage, like the tide, was swiftly receding.

  "We'll see about that, won't we?" Ace smiled and said, and then he handed me a package of strings before he turned and walked away.

  I watched him walk across the parking lot in a t-shirt that hugged him in all the right places. Before he stepped onto his bus, he glanced back at me and smiled. I swallowed back my nerves and turned to my new home, bus number six.

  Frodo, the short guy who worked as a technician caught up to me and we walked to the bus together.

  "Are you good at blackjack?"

  "Umm. Not really."

  He laughed. "By the end of this tour, you'll be counting cards and chugging beers like a pro."

  I laughed with him, but I doubted it.

  We walked onto the bus where everyone was hooping and hollering as they shuffled the cards. Frodo glanced over at me and nodded. I smiled at him and shook my head. I was drowning in head fog and I needed some downtime. Between traveling, the show, the fans, and Ace, I felt like I could sleep for five days. I walked to my bunk and slid my guitar up top. I placed it on its side against the wall. It fit perfectly. I slid my shoes off, then climbed up and closed the curtain hoping for some sort of privacy in spite of it being paper-thin.

  I opened my computer and connected the camera, plugged my headphones in and listened to classical music.

  Hundreds of pictures loaded and I scrolled through them.

  My mouth went dry as I sorted through them. The setting on my camera was perfect and captured the smoke bellowing on the bottom of the stage and the lights shining without discoloring the set or the brothers' skin. I sorted between good and bad shots but stopped on a photo of Ace. Sweat dripped down his chest. He sang into the microphone completely lost in the music, pointing up to the sky. My phone vibrated and I jumped, hitting my head on the ceiling.

  "Damn it," I whispered and answered.

  "Soooooooooooooo. I couldn't sleep," Jules said.

  I sighed in the phone and rubbed my head. "My shots are the shit."

  "Good girl. How's everything else?"

  "I'm settled on the bus, finishing going through the pictures, and typing up my notes."

  "Tomorrow you’ll be in Charlotte, North Carolina—a smaller venue that holds twelve thousand people. Get some sleep. After the show they’ll have a big party for vendors and sponsors at the APX. You need to be there, but don’t take your camera. Go and connect with people. Lots of professionals and possibly the director of the Rolling Stone."

  I had no words. It has been my dream to work for Rolling Stone since I started at PHASE. Thinking about the possibilities made me nervous.

  "You have to go, so don't try to weasel your way out of it," Jules said.

  "Fine," I said rolling my eyes. I hated all of this. I was completely out of my comfort zone. Not to mention, constantly being around people wasn't good for introverts. Crowds made situations more exhausting.

  "Your bus crew wouldn't let you not go anyway. And there will be another party in New York. You'll need a dress for the After Party Ball. Shit, totally forgot about that. You can get with Miley to help."

  "Seriously? You owe me, Jules. You owe me big time."

  "I'm already feeding your cat. We're even. You know he hates me."

  I burst out laughing thinking about my little black beauty roaming my apartment. ZZtop hated everyone but me.

  "Email me your best five shots. I've got to pee. I'll call you tomorrow. K?"

  "Okay, ‘Mom.’ Good-night."

  "Sweet Band of Brothers’ dreams," she said and hung up.

  I sucked in a deep breath and lay down flat with my computer on my lap.

  Someone yelled that we had an hour before takeoff, and I grabbed my clothes to jump in the shower. Jenny gave me a look before I stepped in.

  "It's going to be cold," she said.

  "That's okay, I can handle it," I said.

  Though it was hot as hell outside, the water was ice cold. I jumped in and washed my body and hair as quick as I could and stepped out. I hurried and dried off while shivering. Worst shower experience ever.

  I stepped out of the bathroom and everyone laughed. I was such a newbie.

  "I can't sleep dirty," I said to Fireball, a guy with bright red hair.

  "They give me shit about it too, but I’d rather do that than smelling like ass," he said.

  "You learn how to take whore showers," Frodo said.

  "I don't even want to know what that is," I said.

  "Are you going to play cards with us?" Juicy, a chubby guy with plump lips asked.

  "I'm exhausted from traveling. I should probably sleep. Thanks though. I will one day, promise. Good-night y'all," I said.

  They burst out into laughter. "She said y'all."

  "I'm from Texas," I said, laughing as I walked to my bunk.

  I climbed to my bunk, closed the curtain allowing the glow from my half shut computer to light my small space. I lay down and placed my hands behind my head and closed my eyes. It felt like time had barely passed when the bus started moving. Soon we began to zoom down the road.

  I replayed the entire night in my head and tried to study each detail.

  Ace Hathway might be the end of me.

  9

  Ace

  Nik sat on the couch playing on his phone. He sat up when I walked in.

  "So, little brother. Who's the girl?"

  I set the handful of strings down on the counter and glared at him.

  The bus rumbled, then we inched forward. Tomorrow we'd be in Charlotte.

  "Don't try to hide it. I saw you two in the parking lot."

  I crossed my arms and leaned against the counter. "You saw absolutely nothing. She's not interesting, even she told me that. "

  "If she weren't interesting then why did you chase her across the parking lot as she walked away from you?"

  Fuck. I hated being under his scrutiny. Nik didn't miss a beat on and off the stage and could see through my shit more than anyone else. We were on the same page most of the time.

  "She plays guitar and sings, and she’s good."

  He lifted his eyebrow at me then narrowed his eyes. "So she's got your attention?"

  "No, she doesn't. She's a journalist and will be on this tour until we're back in Cali. Journalists and me … just no."

  Nik laughed at me. I tried to give my best scowl but ended up shaking my head and sitting on the couch next to him. Nik turned on the TV and zoomed through the channels.

  "Pick one," I said as he continued to surf.

  "Tell me your thoughts on the journalist."

  "You're impossible." I stood, grabbed the strings, and walked to my room.
Sharing a bus with Nik wasn't bad, but I couldn't feed him bullshit. Sometimes it was better for me to walk away before I dug a hole so deep, it’d be impossible to climb out of.

  I glanced over at the red lace that lay on my dresser. Negative thoughts swarmed me and I had to make it stop.

  I opened my guitar case and pulled out my acoustic. Considering it was the first guitar my parents ever gave me and many songs were written on her, it held a special place in my heart and collection. The sides and back are maple with a spruce top and an ebony finish. The bridge was rosewood along with the fret board. I remember being eight years old, watching my brothers play, and asking for a guitar. After a few arguments about sharing the acoustic, I was gifted my own. While I loved playing the piano, I wanted to learn to play it all, so I did. By the time I was ten, I could shred better than any of my brothers. By the time I hit puberty and my voice changed, we knew what we had as brothers was special. The rest was hard work and history.

  Carefully, I took the strings off two at a time and loosened the tension before clipping the strings. I pried the post from the bridge and added each of the new strings back on. As the bus lurched forward, gaining speed, I sat on the edge of the bed and tuned my guitar. New strings made her sound alive and vibrant again. There was no better sound.

  My fingers, though they were still tingling from tonight's show, wanted to keep playing. Sometimes the music was too powerful to deny. There were days when I had to play, as if the music controlled me like a puppeteer, and I fed the urge. I learned over the years to give in when creativity beckoned. Some of the deepest songs were created that way.

  When I played, I couldn't think of anything but the music. It fully encapsulated my thoughts and emotions. Many people often said French was the language of love, but I'd have to disagree. Music was one of the most universal, emotional languages in the world. Songs often say what people are too afraid to speak. Music was the language of love.

  Once the guitar was tuned, I carefully strummed a G-chord and my thoughts catapulted me back to that moment watching Elizabeth fully give herself to the music. It was a beautiful sight, one that touched me in an unexplainable way. It's easy to get lost in the bright lights, crowd noise, and special effects at shows, but there was something raw and innocent about her playing for no one other than herself. I felt a little guilty for ruining her intimate moment. It was a reality check in a sense, one that brought me back to everything I had accomplished, one that brought me back to my roots. I did this all for the music, not for the fame. Music was the only constant in all of this.