Ace (Band of Brothers #1) Page 7

  Miley leaned against the wall texting.

  "What are you smiling about?" I asked.

  Her face immediately transformed into a snarl. "None of your business, Hathway."

  As I was talking to Miley, I saw Elizabeth and Jenny standing in the sound booth. While Miley explained the ticket situation, being sold out, and scalpers that were asking quadruple what they were selling for, I stared at them. Miley moved forward and looked at them, then me.

  "Eagle eyes," she said.

  "Only making sure they aren't planning to chop off my dick or you know, sabotage my show." I laughed.

  "Like Jenny would do that. She thinks the world of all of you."

  "She still has a lot to learn about the industry."

  "Give her a break. She's busting her ass and doing the best she can."

  Miley put her hands on her hips and shook her head at me. I rolled my eyes and waited for the attack, but it didn't come. I walked across the stage to take note of the guitar setup and saw the keyboard. It was all in place ready to go. A smile crept across my lips. I couldn't help it. Nik did make it happen. When I walked across to stage left, I looked out into the audience knowing that tonight it would be full of sweaty bodies all there to see us.

  For a moment, I forgot Elizabeth was standing there until she walked into my field of vision. There was a silent conversation exchanged between us, one that I wanted to decode with each blink.

  Shit, maybe Nik was right.

  Maybe Elizabeth Riley was busting my balls.

  I broke our gaze and walked away. When I stepped off the stage, Jenny and Elizabeth were rounding the corner. For a moment, I thought they were doing it on purpose.

  "I've got to catch up with my counterpart," Jenny said to Elizabeth and left her alone with me. Maybe I needed to avoid her the same way she avoided me. As I walked across the parking lot, I heard her say something.

  "Why don't you let anyone interview you?" There was power in her tone, power that she kept tucked deep inside. That little glimmer of a fierce woman made me want to solve her like a puzzle.

  I slowed, then stopped and turned on my heels. I cocked my head at her and she stopped and stood motionless. I took a few steps forward, removing the space between us and lifted an eyebrow as her body stiffened. She looked at me like I was fire and she was ice, and at any second she would melt under my gaze. I took all the time in the world to memorize her face, linger over her breasts, trail down her stomach, and back up again. I studied her until she couldn't fucking stand it while her confidence dripped from her like water. If she wanted to talk the talk, she needed to be able to walk the walk. Knowing that I could make her squirm probably infuriated her to hell and back. Good. I liked that.

  A hint of a smirk played on the corner my lips. More time passed and she didn't say anything. I grabbed her by the hand and led her under a tree close to the bus instead of standing in the blazing sun.

  "I'll give you that interview, Elizabeth."

  Her mouth fell open as shock washed over her, but I wasn't finished.

  "But for each question you ask, you lose one piece of clothing.”

  I lifted an eyebrow and her lips pressed together to form a tight line. She swallowed and found her voice as she silently counted how many pieces of clothes she actually had on.

  That's right, honey. A barely nothing shirt, shorts, bra, panties, and flip-flops.

  "That's a total of five questions with no dignity to spare," she said, still thinking about it.

  "Time’s up, sweetheart," I said in a low growl.

  I tucked my hands into my pockets and walked away, leaving her as frustrated as she continually left me. Regardless if she did it on purpose, payback was a bitch, and I loved dishing it.

  She stormed away in the other direction. I could tell by the swiftness in her walk she was irritated and I couldn't help but chuckle. Maybe I was busting her balls too.

  I stepped onto the bus, unable to hold back my smile. Nik fiercely gleamed over the rim of the shot glass as I entered. I rolled my eyes when Jex finished his rant about the heat and reminded him it was dead middle of summer and that we were in the south. Humidity happened.

  "Did you hear what I said?" Nik asked.

  I shook my head then poured another shot and set it in front of him with a smile hoping that would cure his sour mood.

  "Nope," I said.

  "I told Rex and Jex about your little girlfriend and how she plays guitar."

  My face went from happy to serious in a split second.

  "I don't do girlfriends."

  "If you don't claim her, then I will. She's sexy as hell. Those little shorts today…shit! It was almost too much," Rex said adjusting himself while nodding with a smile.

  I glared at him, making sure he got the message—loud and clear.

  Elizabeth Riley was already in my line of sight and he needed to back the fuck off.

  12

  Elizabeth

  All I could hear was Jules' voice on repeat.

  If you get that interview, you'll have Jack in the palm of your hand. He wants you to fail, expects you to, but you can't. You won't.

  "Shit," I whispered under my breath and walked to the bus with a scowl painted on my face. Next time I wouldn't hesitate when he made his offer, regardless of where we were. Instead I'd do exactly what he couldn't imagine, the unexpected. I needed this interview, but I had my standards. Jules should have chosen someone else for this. Taking off my clothes in front of him made me want to run for the hills, book a flight and go back home to be with my cat and quiet apartment. Truth be known, the odds of this interview were not in my favor.

  As I walked back to number six, I realized Ace and Jack were on the same team. Together they would be the reason why I failed but they were in for a big surprise because I didn't feel like being a failure—not this tour—not ever. I had big goals and dreams to accomplish. I eventually wanted to work for Rolling Stone.

  When I stepped on the bus, exhaustion covered me, but if I napped I would be up all night. Today the goal was to wear myself out to the max and have no other choice but to sleep. I had to or exhaustion would follow in my shadow.

  Tonight a band, I couldn't remember their name, was set to open for Band of Brothers. The pre-show would start in two hours, so I had a little time before I needed to be out there. I wanted to grab all the photographs I could of the opener and maybe get a quick interview. One never knew when the first act could be the next big thing. Opportunity beckoned.

  I checked the lenses in my camera case and made sure I had a few memory cards. If the shots were as good as Jenny said they would be then I would have to switch them out at some point.

  I strapped my camera on my back, grabbed a bottle of water and my sunglasses then headed out the door. Romeo stood behind the stage pointing across the way giving direction to the stage crew. He waved at me and I waved back as I walked toward him.

  "Pre-show starts in a few hours," he said.

  "Yeah, have you seen the band? What's their name?"

  "Learn to Fall. Jadon, the lead singer is stage right, I think." Romeo winked at me.

  I gave him a huge smile and walked toward the stage, pulling my small notepad from the front of my camera bag.

  They were doing mic checks for the drums and the pounding echoed across the stage. As soon as I saw them standing on the side speaking in a small circle, I wanted to turn around and walk away. Damn it. I needed to put on my big girl panties and take a chance. I’d already made it this far. What did I have to lose?

  I sucked in a deep breath and moved toward them. Jadon glanced over at me and back to his bandmates. Eyeliner accentuated his chestnut shaped brown eyes. He wore skinny jeans and a button-up denim shirt with a fedora.

  Rock stars, I thought then shook my head.

  Just do it, I whispered to myself under my breath.

  My feet had guided me close enough to them where I could hear their voices. Jadon glanced over at me and shot me a boyish smile t
hat I'm sure drove the ladies crazy.

  "Hi, Jadon," I said without stuttering too much. "I'm Elizabeth Riley with Phase Magazine. Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?"

  His face lit up. "Seriously?"

  "Well, yeah." I laughed.

  "Fuck, yeah."

  I smiled. Finally, someone was willing to answer my questions. The stage crew continued to check the microphones on the drums and the constant pound was distracting. I glanced over at the drums and so did he.

  "Come on. Follow me," he said and we walked from the side of the stage together and stood in the shade that surrounded the venue. I already liked him. He was personable, genuine, and friendly even though he played up the hard-core persona.

  "So you're British?"

  "What gave it away?" he asked in a thick British accent that almost made my knees tremble.

  That accent . . . lord help me.

  "Your sense of fashion," I said with a nervous laugh. He looked down at what he was wearing and that's when I noticed his nails were painted black too. He was the perfect mix of heavy metal and hipster. It seemed as if he’d created his own style and I could dig it.

  "So how long have you all been playing together?"

  "Since we were angry teenagers in love. About ten years I guess. There was this beautiful girl that broke my heart, so I wrote a song about how much I hated love. It was the typical anti-love song and people adored it."

  "An anti-love song… that has a ring to it."

  Jadon leaned against the railing of the stairs that led to the stage.

  "How do you feel about opening for Band of Brothers?"

  "It's an opportunity of a lifetime. We've looked up to them for so long. I guess my answer would be—bad fuckin' arse."

  I searched his face and knew he was being genuine in his answer.

  "Is there anything you'd like to tell your fans?"

  "Rock on motha' fuckas!"

  I burst into a deep laughter as he held up his hand and gave me the rock out symbol and stuck out his tongue.

  "So that's all I have for now. I really appreciate your time. I'll be taking photos from the sound booth tonight and would love to email a few of them to you once I choose my shots."

  I handed him my notepad and he wrote down his email address and phone number. "Call me if you need more information."

  "Thanks so much," I said, giving him a firm handshake.

  He turned around and stuck out his tongue and gave me the rock on symbol once more. I shook my head and laughed. As I turned, I stumbled into hardness. A chest. I glanced up and looked into Ace's hazel eyes.

  "You two looked a little chummy," he said, tucking his hands in his pockets.

  My smile instantly faded and I released a huffed breath.

  "It's because—unlike you—he actually wants to answer my questions.” I glared at him, but it didn’t work. He cracked open his water bottle and drank.

  "Watch out. Jadon is a lady killer," Ace said.

  I walked away from him but he stayed right on my heels with his long strides. I walked around the side of the building to set up my tripod in the sound booth. My emotions had gotten the best of me so I stopped and turned on him. When I opened my mouth to say something, he spoke.

  "I'm feeling a little disrespected, Elizabeth. I can only imagine what kind of loathing words you’ve already written about me."

  He stood inches from my face. I was aggravated because he kept pushing my buttons. The walls had come down and I went into attack mode. He needed to know his place and it wasn't in my bubble or business. Ace continued to test me and I didn't like that.

  "I'm a journalist, not someone sent here to kiss your ass, feet, or the ground you walk on. I'm not writing my emotion into the article. I'm letting everyone else make the judgment call on facts."

  He smirked which only frustrated me more.

  "I don't want to play your games. You act like the entire universe revolves around you. Not sure if you realized it, but it's not always about you, Ace. Sometimes it's about the music, so you should get over yourself." I swallowed, knowing that I had said too much when his face went from soft to hard. He was infuriating and I wasn't sure how much more of him I could deal with before I quit. It would be a career death sentence but leaving all of this almost seemed worth it considering how he made me feel. It was all too confusing.

  I waited for him to walk away, but he didn't budge. He stood firm. His intense gaze shot right through me melting me into a liquid. He lifted his hands from his pockets and slow clapped.

  "Very good, Elizabeth. About time you grew some balls without liquid courage. At least you learned something on this tour. And how terrible of a person you must think I am to say such things." His words were almost sarcastic.

  He closed the little space there was between us. His breath lingered on my cheeks and that's when I realized that maybe I was already in his orbit, being pulled by his gravitational force, closer and closer until I entered his atmosphere. Once that happened there were only two scenarios that could play out—I’d burn on reentry or I'd crash into the ground only to be scattered into a million little pieces. Either way, even having an inkling of some sort of emotion toward Ace Hathway would end in doom and destruction. I needed to remember my place as the journalist with the photographers pass and stay there.

  My body responded to his voice and I knew he saw it. A small part of me wanted to be unseen by him but I knew it wasn't happening. My heart galloped because he was too close for comfort. Slowly, I slid down a slippery slope of no return, but I wouldn't fall without a fight. As much as I hated to admit it, his messy hair and half smile combined with sparkling green-brown eyes that seemed to see right through me was too much. The man was a god in his own way and I understood why women were obsessed. But I never considered myself one of those women, so my brain would fight my body the whole way. My bottom lip trembled as we stood inches apart, frozen in time and wrapped in silence.

  As much as I wanted to, I couldn't begin to predict his next move. Ace Hathway was unpredictable which caused a mixture of emotions to braid together, almost strangling me with the intensity. I closed my eyes shut, hoping he would disappear, but when I opened them, his body had relaxed and his confidence was in full force. Ace's charisma was dangerous.

  "Now what were you saying about kissing my ass?" His bottom lip brushed lightly against mine as he pulled me deep into his depths and held me in his trance. My immediate reaction was to tuck my lip into my mouth so I could taste him. Almost.

  "This is wrong," I whispered.

  "Wrong because you want it?"

  I let out a stilted sigh and took a step back. I couldn't open those doors. I wouldn't.

  "I'm not a groupie or even a fan. Your fame doesn't entice me."

  "And that's what makes this chase a challenge. I'm nobody to you. I like that."

  "You're not chasing anything."

  "Then why are you constantly running away?"

  I thought I was strong.

  I thought I could handle this.

  But I was spinning out of control.

  I looked up into the depths of his hazel eyes and found the courage to turn and walk away. He was too intense, too much for me to handle. I realized as I walked toward the sound booth that Ace was right; I was running away from him—running as fast as I could, but it still wasn't enough.

  13

  Elizabeth

  Purples faded into blues and blues into greens, which transformed to yellow bursts of light that swam across the stage and crowd. Smoke bellowed on the bottom of the floor and reminded me of storm clouds swimming through the sky. The pre-show had amped the audience up and not a person was sitting. I understood what Jadon meant about the anti-love songs. Hate the Lover was heavy and the lyrics projected from his throat like strong roars. The crowd was mesmerized by the act and I totally got it. They didn't have to work hard to captivate the audience; they did them from the moment they stepped on stage.

  The audience wa
s loud and screamed with everything they were between songs. The two bands were a perfect mix—kind of like cookies and milk. Once the Band of Brothers' set started, everyone’s body and head nodded and moved to the music. I glanced over at Jenny as she bobbed her head to the beat. I gave her a quick thumbs up because my pictures were perfect. How lucky was I to meet someone so friendly and helpful? In a world where everyone was waiting for me to fall, she was there catching me before I did. I exhaled and continued working.

  The hands in the bottom frame of the pictures along with the glow of the lights in the back of the frame were almost magical in a sense. I took several pictures and quickly reviewed them. It was powerful to be able to tell this story with my angle, through my eyes, and the way that I saw it. Images like these were the kind people didn’t forget. I shook my head thinking about Jules. The woman was smarter than I thought. She believed in me and as I searched through these photos, I knew why. I could do this.

  Oceans of people moved and bodies and arms acted as waves as the beat carried on. I kept clicking but moved my eye away from the camera and took my time to study the people in the crowd. Who were mega fans and who were the first timers? The voices of the people echoed almost as chants as the band continued on with the set. I slightly dropped my camera to my side when a keyboard was moved on stage and the lights faded from green to orange. As soon as the guitar strummed, I knew exactly what song it was: The Beatles, “Let it Be.”

  I loved the Beatles. I loved playing their songs. It reminded me of all the great memories of playing guitar with my dad. As I watched Ace close his eyes and play the notes on the piano, I almost forgot where I was and who I was watching. Seconds had passed but it felt like hours. The Band of Brothers pulled me in and held me under their spell as time seemed to stand still. I changed lenses as fast as I could—a close zoom—and focused on Ace. Something inside of me was stirring—a stirring I didn’t want to admit.

  People stilled, but once they recognized the song, intense screams of approval rang out from the masses. The mood transformed into that of passionate admiration. Muscular arms and body filled my frame. I was completely shocked that he played piano, but I shouldn’t have been.