Dedicated to one of the closest friends/family members I have:

Taylor Little.

I adore you, I love you, and I appreciate all you’ve done for me. My life would be so boring without you. I’m so glad you can finally be the 

real

you.

“Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, ambition inspired, and success achieved.”

~ Helen Keller



I heaved, clamping my chest, staring intently into the demented green eyes. There was a cloud of darkness behind them—anger, frustration, and a menacing glare.

Those eyes frightened me every night, yet I’d dealt with it for years. His deep voice grumbled something I could hardly make out because of the

blood racing around in my skull. His voice was toxic, deadly.

Through the darkness, I adjusted, but I could see her watching eyes, her partial, wicked smile from the bedroom door. I lay on top of the rough carpet and stretched out my arm, begging her to help me. Instead, she stared, watching as he picked me up from the floor and shoved me against the nearest wall. I winced, trying to keep myself steady, but instead I collapsed against the carpet again, burning my knees and the palms of my sensitive hands.

“Mama, please.” My voice was raspy from my previous yelling—from the excruciating pain he provided. The severity of his wrath left me bruised, tattered. My head hung and my cheek smashed against the carpet. For a moment I felt safe as the room became quiet and spun around me.

Finally

she

spoke up, her voice almost a whisper. “I’m sorry, Liza, but you knew this was important. When we need money, it’s not a joke. Should’ve done what was asked of you.”

A tear escaped from beneath my swollen eyelids and then I opened them, watching her turn around quickly. I called after her desperately, begging her not to leave me alone with that bastard. More tears fell, cigarette smoke drifted into the room, and then he yelled for me to get up, yanking on my arm.

My knees buckled again and my face slammed into the floor. Blood spilled from my nose and my forehead burned from scraping against the carpet. He threatened that if I didn’t get up, he was going to make the punishment worse, but I couldn’t. I was weak. I didn’t have the strength within me to move anymore. I was blank, nothing, like a thin sheet of paper. Unmoving unless blown by the wind or picked up by someone.

I wanted to dissolve into dust and blend in with the floor to become anything—anyone—but Eliza Smith.

I prayed and wished it would stop, but as he chuckled eerily and muttered something threatening beneath his breath, I knew it was coming. Heavy leather stung the backs of my legs, my hips, my back, my arms, and even my face countless times. I cried out repeatedly, digging my fingernails into the carpet with thick tears streaming, hoping soon I would numb to the pain.

I did eventually.



Gage Grendel…

There were only a few words that could describe him: hot, mouthwatering, and way out of my league. He

and

his band were out of my league, but apparently not my dad’s. He was their manager, and this summer things were really starting to kick off for them.

I remember exactly how my dad announced the tour to me:

“You need to start packing. We’re going on tour with FireNine!” he said over dinner.

I looked at him, a frown taking hold of my features, before digging into my mashed potatoes. “You mean

you’re

going on tour. I’d rather stay home.”

“Why? You

need to get out and have some fun, Eliza.”

My dad’s personality made me feel so boring. He was spunky, hip, great taste, young-at-heart, all the above. When I’d moved in with him, he took me shopping first thing. He literally ran me to the mall because he said I looked “terrible.”

Apparently he didn’t approve of my sweatpants and the brown T-shirt I’d gotten from summer camp when I was twelve years old. I admit, by the age of sixteen it had gotten a little small on me, but I didn’t mind. I was twenty-one and would still wear it whenever I could because it was my favorite tee. It was a summer I was free of the hellhole.

“Come on, Liza Bear,” he begged. “It’ll be fun. I know you get tired of this house. You do the same thing every day. Eat. Draw. Paint. Sleep. You aren’t tired of that routine?”

“Not really.”

His brown eyes scanned me and then he smirked. “I

think I know what it is.” He placed his fork on the table and tucked a lock of his perfectly trimmed hair behind his ear. My dad and I had the same natural platinum-blond hair. The fact that my skin was paler than a blank sheet of paper didn’t make it any better for me. He’d told me once before that I could pass for an albino if my eyelashes and eyebrows were a paler blond.

My dad

pulled it off, though. He classified himself as “HOT” and I agreed. He worked out every day and had straight white teeth; his hair, parted at the crown of his head, just touched his shoulders. He naturally had more fashion sense than me, which was quite embarrassing sometimes.

“What do you mean?” I asked as he crossed his arms.

“It’s Gage, isn’t it?”

Hearing Gage’s name caused me to tear away my gaze. “What about him?”

“I notice the way you practically run to your room to hide when he and the band come over to practice now. You’re such a little girl.”

“Am not.” I stuck out my tongue and he laughed.

“Besides, they’ve only been here twice.” A smile touched my lips as I slid away from the table, grabbing my plate. I took his as well, then made my way toward the kitchen. Our house was nice and somewhat simple. The kitchen was always clean. We had tan marble counters with grey and silver flecks, dark-brown cabinets with brushed nickel knobs, and an island in the center, surrounded by six bar stools.

I remember Gage sitting on one of those barstools and since then, I haven’t touched it. There’s just something about his presence that makes me nervous.

My dad stepped into the kitchen as I dropped the plates in the sink. “You really aren’t going to come with me, Liza? I want you out of the house. You’re twenty-one, and you spend every summer trapped here. It’s time to get out and live a little, don’t you think?”

“I’m sorry, Dad—”

“Ben,” he corrected. That was one thing he couldn’t stand. Being called “dad.” It supposedly made him feel old, and he was the type who would rather feel like a brother than a father.

“Well,

Ben

,” I said, rolling my eyes and plugging the sink, “I don’t think going on tour with FireNine will be such a great idea. It’s just a bunch of guys on a bus, drinking beer and doing God knows what else. That’s not my kind of crowd.”

“What is your crowd, exactly?” he asked, narrowing his eyes and leaning his elbows on the counter.

“I’m my own crowd.” I winked over my shoulder. I rinsed the suds off the plates and placed them into the dish rack as he laughed.

“All right, let’s make a deal.” He clasped his hands. “If I give you a gift card to a

bookstore, buy you some cute clothes, and even take you to get your hair done, will you go?”

I shrugged.

“I like the bookstore part. As for the clothes and hair, that was kind of a downfall.”

“Well, shit! You can get all the books you want. Just please come, Eliza. I swear it’ll be worth your time. We’re making tons of stops during the tour so there’ll always be something to do. It gets boring here in Virginia after a while, and you know it.”

I could agree with him there. There wasn’t really much to do in Suffolk unless someone had a party of some sort, but parties weren’t really my thing. Nothing was really my thing. I stayed cooped up in my house so much I think I missed out on most of the fun as a teenager. Even while enrolled in college, all I did was go to class or hide in my dorm. My roommate was trashy so I hardly ever saw her, which was a good thing most of the time because I couldn’t stand her.

“Okay.” I sighed as Ben’s large brown eyes looked me ove

r. “I’ll go, but I don’t wanna be on the same bus as the band.”

“Oh, sweetie, you won’t be,” he assured, stepping around the counter to stand next to me. “You’ll be on a separate bus with me. You’ll have all the alone time you need. I wouldn’t put you on a bus with a bunch of boys like them. That’s just… ew. Gross. The things those boys do. Ugh!”

“Okay, okay.” I giggled, lifting my hands in surrender mode. “I’ll go—mainly because I do like their music and because I think it’d be cool to watch the cities go by. I can snap a few pictures or something.” I shrugged, sighing. “Why the hell not?”

“That’s my Liza.” He kissed my cheek and then pulled me in for a hug. I hugged him back quickly before pulling away to get to the dishes again. “Tomorrow we’ll go shopping.”

“Cool.”

The doorbell rang a few seconds later and Ben grinned as he braced himself, wiping his hands on his peachy button-up shirt. “Oh, great. The boys are here.”

My eyebrows knitted as I stared out of the kitchen. “The boys?”

“Yes. FireNine. They’re practicing in the garage tonight since their producer’s out of town. They have a new song, and I’ve been dying to hear it. Perks of being the manager, huh?”

I swallowed. “Um… yeah. Sure.”

Winking, my dad trailed out the kitchen, but I pulled my hands from the dishwater, dried them off with a dishtowel, and then dashed for my bedroom in a heartbeat, shutting my door behind me. I hated when they made random appearances, especially when I looked like complete trash.

As I stepped forward, I kneeled down on my knees and pulled out one of my sketchpads from beneath the bed. I then grabbed a pencil and sat at the desk in the corner of my room. Deep voices echoed through the hall, and I tried to concentrate, but it was extremely

difficult. The hardest part about it was hearing Gage Grendel’s deep, bedroom-like voice. It was humming through me, almost luring me in his direction. At one point, I had to fight myself to not get up and steal a peek at him. His voice was completely irresistible.

“I’ll be in there onc

e I find the bathroom,” Gage called. His footsteps sounded heavier than normal and my pencil stopped sketching as he got closer and closer to my bedroom. The bathroom was a door down from mine and knowing how one could confuse the two doors scared the shit out of me. I knew it was coming. I knew

he

was coming.

My doorknob jiggled and, slowly, the door creaked open. I tensed, but I kept my gaze down and focused on my

sketchpad. “Oh, damn. Wrong room.”

I glanced over my shoulder, bracing myself before taking in the full sight of him. His attire was nowhere near preppy or perfect. His casual demeanor suited him. He had on black

Chuck Taylor’s, a black tank top that clung to his firm upper body, and a pair of near-skinny, dark-blue jeans. His hazel eyes were smiling, specks of green and yellow sparkling within. I could make out the hints of colors in his irises from a mile away. His silky, dark-brown hair had been trimmed to a messier look, curly in a few untamed places, and defined him even more. A sleeve of unique tattoos smothered both his arms—some were tribal ink, a few names, and even some Bible verses were written in cursive. There was even the band’s name right below his neck.

“You look familiar,” Gage said, snapping me out of my admiration.

“Probably because we went to school together,” I said.

Oh shit, there goes my sarcastic side

. I was glad he disregarded it.

“T

hat so?” He raised a suave eyebrow and I nodded.

“Yeah. You graduated three years before I did.”

“Oh. Explains why I can’t remember you… but you do ring a bell. What’s your name?”

“Eliza Smith,” I said, as if it were going to actually ring his bell.

Surprisingly, it did.

“Holy sh—no way!

You’re

Benny’s daughter?”

“Yes,” I said defensively. I wasn’t sure if he meant it insultingly. “Obviously,

if I’m in a bedroom of his home…”

“That’s pretty awesome. You’re hotter than I expected you to be.” His tone was absurdly nonchalant. “Benny talks about you nonstop. Why don’t I ever see you around?”

“We’re opposites I guess.” I shrugged. I turned around slowly and began sketching again, but I could still feel Gage scanning me from across the room and I was starting to wonder why the hell he wasn’t leaving. “The bathroom is the next door down, in case you’re wondering,” I said without looking back. I couldn’t look back. If I did, I would have dragged him into my room and locked him in with me.

“Cool,” he said. “Thanks,

Eliza

… Actually, I think I’ll call you Ellie. Just came up with it. Sounds better. Fits you.”

“But that’s not my na—”

The door shut quickly and I was glad because hearing Gage say my name like that nearly caused me to melt inside, and him leaving saved me from embarrassing myself.

Ellie?

I’d never been called that before.

It was hypnotic. Gage saying my name and even giving me a nickname was like vanilla ice cream, and the addition of his deep, bedroom-like voice was the drizzle of warm fudge that completed it and made me totally devour it. He’d created a freaking ice cream sundae with extra-hot fudge just by uttering

my name

.

Gage was beyond the word hot. He was sexy but extremely deadly toward any girl’s emotions. He could break a girl’s heart in two and not care about it. It was always that way in high school. He’d hook up with a girl one day; the next she’d come into class with smeared mascara. That was one thing that

agitated me about guys in rock bands. It seemed as if they were all the same—all aiming to have sex and then forget about it the next day.

I didn’t want to be a witness to him or any of the other guys bringing countless girls on and off their bus, but a part of me wanted to finally get out. Ben was right about living it up. I wanted to do it for myself, even if it were something new to me. It was time for me to challenge myself. Time for me to open up.

Ben gave me a makeover and I guess Gage noticed. Even though I was the only breathing organism in the room, he actually looked at me as if I were a person. In school, when he was around, I always wore my hair in a ponytail. I never wore makeup (unless someone would consider lip balm makeup), and I wore nothing but T-shirts and jeans every day and maybe a hoodie when it was cold, but when I moved in with Ben, he stopped me from wearing my—as he put it—“ugly boy clothes.” He made sure I dressed to impress. He never allowed me to wear a T-shirt with jeans again unless I was staying inside the house. Too bad I started looking nicer after Gage graduated. Maybe he would’ve noticed me in school.

I moved in with Ben during the second semester of my junior year, when I was seventeen. I

was recognized by others for my looks and the drastic Ben-makeover and it was an odd feeling, so I always rejected the guys who came along. It never felt right to date anyone when things were just starting to make a little sense in my crazy life.

High school just seemed too young to start anything official and so was college—not that I wasn’t looking. I just wanted something playful. Nothing serious. I didn’t have much time for anything serious. I guess that was another reason I wanted to actually go with Ben. Because I wanted to possibly meet someone on the road who had the same interests as me. Someone who loved to absorb the feel of creativity and just breathe it. Someone who could be just as free and down to earth as me. Someone who didn’t care about anyone’s opinion but his own. Someone who knew how to have fun while also keeping his feelings to himself.

I was expecting too much, but if I were to have any kind of fun with someone, he had to be worth it.

The tour bus Ben

told me to board was nice. It was larger on the inside than I thought and as I stepped in completely, there was a grand living room setting and a kitchen to my left. The living room was comprised of black suede couches directly across from each other, a coffee table in between the sofas, and a wide flat-screen TV set up on the north wall.

Gripping the handles of my suitcase and bag, I made my way down the hall and kicked open one of the doors with the tip of my running shoe. A mattress lay on the floor and a window was above it. Looking at it made me shake my head and move along to see what the next room had in store.

To my luck, the next room was perfect.

A queen-si

zed bed was against the wall, one square window above it. The walls were painted a gentle shade of lavender and the floor was covered with smooth, tan carpet.

I dropped my bags, gazing around with a smile. It would do for t

he tour. Ben told me a few days before that the tour was going to last two months, but he was going to make sure I was back in Virginia for school. I couldn’t afford to miss out, especially when I had an academic scholarship I worked tremendously hard for. I wanted to get a bachelor’s degree in art and then explore the world. I wanted to start a life of my own and chase my dreams.

Graduating from the University of

Virginia had always been a goal of mine. After being told I would never make it anywhere in life by my so-called “mom,” I wanted to graduate and prove her wrong. I figured being on a tour bus was the perfect way to start my dreams. If I had experience with traveling, taking pictures, and painting what I came across, it would make it so much easier for me to create a creative portfolio.

A few heavy grunts came from the front of the bus. Figuring it was Ben, I stepped out to check but was caught by surprise at the sight of Gage with at least four suitcases—one in each

hand and one beneath the pit of each arm. “Do you need help?” I asked as he kicked the screen door to keep it open, dragging another case inside.

He looked up at me, his hazel eyes narrowing and trying to figure out

who the voice had come from. “Oh, Ellie.” He grinned. “It’d be nice if I could get your help.”

I stepped forward, grabbed the two suitcases out of his hands, and placed them near the sofas. Gage stepped around me and dropped the bags with a heavy sigh. “Sorry. My dad packs more stuff than he needs.” I laughed

He chuckled. “I can see that.” He took in the interior of the bus and his eyes widened. “Wow, never been on this bus before. Ben has it good—way better than us.”

“Yeah.” I forced a smile before looking down, realizing how close we were. His firm arm was

brushing against mine, so I took a step away. He looked at me, his gaze a bit confused, and then rocked on his heels.

“So

since you’re on this tour, it means I’m gonna be seeing more of you,” he said.

I twisted my fingers in front of me, forcing a smile. I think it came off as uneasy. “I suppose.”

His head tilted and a small smile graced his lips. “You don’t seem too happy about it. I bet it’s every girl’s dream to be next to the lead singer of FireNine.”

He nudged me gently on the ribcage with his elbow and I laughed dryly, taking another step away from him. “I forgot how arrogant you are. I’m not every girl. I’m Eliza. I like your music… but that’s probably about it.”

Gage’s features fell as he stared at me. Before he could make it too noticeable, he blinked quickly and flashed a smile, as if what I said meant nothing to him. “We’ll see about that, Ellie. Maybe I can get you to like more about me than just my music.”

“Yeah, okay,

” I scoffed. I was surprised I was so confident while talking to him. It felt good to pretend I didn’t have the biggest crush on him. I didn’t want him to know, with one simple touch, he could probably make me weak in the knees. Gage seemed to have that kind of power over girls. He was the lead singer of a popular band, for heaven’s sake. He was probably right about him being every girl’s dream because sometimes he appeared in mine.

“Gage! We’re waiting on you!” someone shouted from the door. “Bring your *** on!”

“Yeah, let’s get this show on the road!” I heard Ben yell, clapping his hands. “Terri, I want you to make sure everyone and everything is on board before we leave. You have five minutes.”

After some quick yelling at a few others, Ben stepped onto the bus and looked directly at Gage. “Thanks for dropping my bags off. Things are always so hectic at the beginning of tours. New staff and they don’t know a damn thing.” He rolled his eyes, making his way toward his suitcases.

Gage nodded at Ben and then looked at me. As he stepped past, he winked, but I looked away and aimed to keep my heart at a steady pace. I failed terribly but was glad no one could hear the clambering through my chest because of all the commotion going on from outside. “See you later, Ellie,” Gage said, his voice a bit silkier than usual.

He took his last step off the bus and then hollered at someone, making my ears ring. I looked out of the thin window in front of me and watched as he bumped chests with Roy Sykes, the lead guitarist. Roy was way taller than the rest of the boys of the band and had shaggy hair that hung in his eyes. He had a lean statu

re and was covered in ink—way more ink than Gage.

Roy was hot and definitely something to look at as well, but from what I’d heard about him, he was soft spoken. He was comfortable with his band (by the way he was jumping and bumping fists with Gage, I could tell), but when it came to outsiders, he hardly said a thing. I don’t think anyone had ever caught an interview with Roy Sykes. He was the mystery man of FireNine.

Gage and Roy boarded their tour bus, which I noticed had

FIRENINE

printed in a fierce orange on top of the black chrome. Ben cleared his throat obnoxiously from behind me, snapping me out of my daze. I turned around and his arms were folded across his chest, his eyes glued on me.

“What?” I asked, my cheeks sparking.

“Ellie, huh? He’s given you a nickname… and you’re blushing? How adorable.”

I smirked and rolled my eyes. “I don’t know why he calls me that.”

He laughed. “You like it. Don’t act like you don’t.”

“It’s just a name, Ben. He’s a cool guy.”

“Yeah, whatever, sweetie. I’ve heard it all.” He walked for the stairs and laughed as he stepped off the bus again. He yelled at a few of the crewmembers and told them to get everything in order, and I sighed, going for my room of the bus.

I slumped on the edge of the bed and it sank beneath my weight. How the hell was I actually going to survive the tour without being around Gage so much? I didn’t know if I was going to be able to act like the careless chick—I mean, I didn’t care much, but for some reason I knew I would start soon.

Gage was my high school crush. I’d fantasized about him since day one of seeing him. I always wondered what it would be like to date him… but then he got famous and that thought vanished. I knew it was never going to happen. I was sure he had his girls lined up and his picks ready. I didn’t want to be one of those girls who did stupid things for a boy’s attention, so I decided for the entire tour to just play it cool.

I decided to act like Eliza Smith. It’s what I was best at anyway.

The next morning I woke up gasping and drenched in sweat. I shoved my blankets away, pushing myself up to lean my back against the headboard. The nightmare I had wasn’t pleasant. All I could remember was a large, filthy hand gripping my neck, pinning me against the wall, and… someone cackling. A clatter from the kitchen startled me and I stepped out of bed, pushing the nightmare aside. I had to get over it. I had to be strong.

As I entered the kitchen, Ben

, wearing a sky-blue robe, was humming over the stove with a spatula in hand. His hair was most likely wet and ridiculously wavy from a shower. I then realized I was still sweating. Perhaps it wasn’t just my nightmare that left me that way.

“Good morning,

” I sighed.

He turned around, facing me quickly. Laughing, he watched me run the back of my hand over my sticky forehead before

scrambling his eggs again. “We’re in New Mexico, Liza,” he said, chuckling. “The air-conditioning unit isn’t running, but I’m having someone work on it as we speak.”

“It’s so hot.” I reached for a loose sheet of paper on the counter and

fanned myself, glad he thought I was flushed over the heat instead of my night terror.

“Well, how about you take a cold shower and I’ll make you some eggs for breakfast? The boys have a show tonight, but we have to be there in two hours so they can practice and so the crew can make sure the setup is okay.”

I nodded, turning around. “I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

After taking an extremely cool shower, blow-drying my hair, and then stuffing my face with cheesy eggs, Ben and I were stepping off the bus to make our way to a pearly white Lincoln Navigator parked at the curb.

“That’s what we’re riding in?” I asked, stunned. I couldn’t pull my eyes from the truck. It was sparkling all over and with the sun hovering above it, providing the truck a personal twinkle, it was pretty much in the limelight.

“Yes, Liza! Gotta make ourselves look just as

extravagant.” He winked over his shoulder, and I couldn’t help but stare. I’d never been on a tour with Ben before so I didn’t know what it was like to have a chauffeur or to even be taken to a show. I

did

know I was going to be backstage, up close and personal with the band.

Ben swung the door open and I climbed inside. He slid in after me, but a familiar voice called his name, causing my pulse to pick up. “Benny!” Gage yelled as Ben looked his way. Ben shut his door but rolled down his window with a

heavy sigh.

“What is it, Gage?” Ben snapped impatiently. “We have to be there in thirty minutes and it’s a twenty-five minute drive.”

“Whoa now.” Gage held up his hands innocently, smirking. “We’ll get there in time. They have to wait for us regardless, right?”

Ben pressed his lips together, rolling his eyes at the statement.

“I just wanted to say good morning to you and your

beautiful

daughter Ellie.”

My eyes stretched, heat bombarding my stomach. Ben glanced over his shoulder at me and I forced a smile before looking away and placing my sunglasses on the bridge of my nose. “

You can flirt later.” Ben rolled his eyes again. “Focus on the show tonight.”

“Oh, we’ve got this shit in the bag!” Gage yelled, taking quick steps backward as I looked in his direction. Gage’s attire was simple again. Chuck Taylor shoes, a white T-shirt with his band’s name on it, and his hair? Still untamed and all over the place yet

dangerously sexy.

With

another exaggerated sigh, Ben rolled up his window and told the driver to go before we ended up late. He then looked at me and I smiled innocently, shaking my head. “He’s… funny.”

“And a handful, yes,” Ben added.

I waited for Ben to strike up a conversation about Gage calling me

beautiful,

but he didn’t. Instead, he pulled out his phone and called someone, asking them how the stage setup was going. He was ready to get to the arena and was too focused on work to be thinking about it. I doubt he put as much thought into it as I did, anyway. I don’t know why, but I couldn’t really stop myself from obsessing over his flirtatious tone. In my head, I’d always considered Gage Grendel the stunning one. The hot-*** guy with the sexy-*** body. There was no doubt he had everything a girl needed… except sympathy of the heart.

The first show was amazing. Gage’s vocal chords were like no other. He had a distinct voice that would let you know it was him from a mile away. It was undeniably beautiful. The way his lips parted and barely touched the microphone. The way he sang softly when the bass would drop. I just wanted to get wrapped up in it—tangled between his words. If I were someone who went through with her own thoughts, I would’ve dragged him off stage just to be alone with him. He sang with such grace it almost seemed unreal. He smiled behind the mic so much—so playfully—I couldn’t help but smile with him. He was flirting with the crowd, blowing air kisses, grabbing hands of miscellaneous FireNine fangirls.

As soon as the boys performed their last set, they pushed through the curtain to get backstage. Roy Sykes and Montana Delray stepped back first. Montana was the bassists and had blond hair that was cut and gelled into a spiky mohawk. His right eyebrow and the right corner of his bottom lip were pierced with studs, and from what I’d heard, he was the showboat of them all. He craved the attention, knowing he could never get more than Gage did. In my perspective, Gage was hotter, but Montana was extremely close.

“We’ve got a live one back here already,” Montana said, his eyes hard on me as he placed his red bass guitar against a crate. “I call dibs.”

He winked at me, but I swallowed hard, keeping my chin up. Ben told me not to look weak in front of the boys, and I was following through with his advice. I hadn’t been introduced to any of the boys except Gage. He repeated over and over how the boys loved to tease, and I had to suck it up and deal with it because they never held back.

Montana stepped toward me, his light-blue eyes

lax and observing me in my skinny jeans and white blouse Ben and I bought during our shopping spree for the tour. “Can I get a name?” he asked, pierced eyebrow lifting.

“Eliza Smith.”

“Eliza Smith,” he repeated, grinning as he rolled my name off his tongue. “I like that. Cute.”

I sighed and took a step back. Montana’s eyes narrowed as he stared at me. “What brings you backstage? Which one of us were you hoping to run into?”

Just as he asked, Gage came stumbling back with Dedrick Parsley, aka Deed P., the drummer, along with a whopping of screaming and shouting from the overly excited FireNine fans. As soon as Gage caught sight of Montana near me, his head slanted. “What’s up?” he asked, looking from me to Montana.

“I called dibs,” Mont

ana stated, smiling. “She’s cute.”

“I’m not a pick for tonight, Montana,” I told him

, lifting my hands and shrugging. “Sorry.”

“You aren’t? What

are you, then?”

“I’m only back here because

my

dad is

your

manager.”

Montana’s eyes stretched and Gage chuckled, clapping Montana’s shoulder. “Step off, Montana. Even if she were a

n after-party groupie, I’d be the one calling dibs. Not you.”

“Oh, you think so?”

“Know so, buddy.”

Montana snorted a laugh and then took a step back. “Let’s hear it from Miss Eliza. If you were a groupie, who would you be waiting for right now?”

I hesitated as all eyes turned on me. Even Roy and Deed looked at me, waiting for an answer. I had to remain confident. I wanted to keep the teasing atmosphere going so I said, “Roy Sykes. I find him handsome and unique among you all.”

Gage’s eyes widened and Montana yelled, “Hilarious!” while chuckling.

Roy stared at me, his dark eyes wider than I’d ever seen them beneath his shaggy hair, and then he turned around, clutching his guitar a little too tightly, causing his knuckles to pale. My smile fell rapidly as he hurried for his dressing room and slammed the door shut behind him.

“She’s funny as hell. I like her,” Montana said, still laughing. “Don’t mind Roy. It’s been a while since he’s had a girl. He’s the weird one, if you haven’t noticed already.”

“Yeah.” I forced a laugh, but I couldn’t help but worry for Roy. I didn’t think I said anything bad.

Montana turned around and trailed off to his dressing room. “Time to get ready for the real ladies, then!” he hollered right before slamming his door behind him.

Deed and Gage were still standing in front of me, and as Deed realized how awkward it was becoming, he ran a hand through his cropped, gelled black hair and turned around, his drumsticks still in hand. Deed was more slender than the other boys. I was sure he had a nice body as well; he just seemed a bit more boyish than the others.

“Yeah, so, I’m just gonna… go.” He hesitated, switching glances between me and Gage. He then hurried down the hall and his door clicked shut behind him. Gage watched him disappear before chuckling and

looking at me again.

“Did I say something wrong?” I asked.

“Like Montana said, Roy’s the weird one. He doesn’t like to deal with compliments… or girls.” He laughed. “He likes to remain

ghostly

.”

“Oh.” I figured that was kind of impossible since he

was the lead guitarist and all, but whatever.

“It’s funny, though, Ellie.” Gage sighed, taking a step toward me. “I thought you were going to pick me.” He reached up, placing a finger on my chin, and as his skin connected with mine, my breath hitched. A zap of lightning st

ruck my core, causing me to practically melt. I’d never known what it would be like for him to touch me, for his liquid eyes to only be on mine. It was a feeling I wanted to hang on to forever. He was so close I could smell his cologne—spicy, yet pleasing to the senses. Gage then tapped my chin twice, his eyes hard on me. “But since you’re a bigger fan of Roy… well… all I can say is good luck with that.” He winked, pulling his warm, slightly calloused fingers away. The fire that had ignited within me died down with each step he took.

His walk was dangerous

ly sexy—his shoulders broad, hips swinging in a completely mannish way. He rounded a corner, disappearing out of sight, and I sighed, releasing the nervous air trapped in my lungs. He’d left me completely breathless with just the touch of his fingers. I didn’t know how the hell he did it, but I wasn’t going to deny the fact that I enjoyed it. I was just never going to let him know it. I didn’t want him to figure out how he could have any control over me just by being near me.

“Liza!” Ben’s voice called from behind me. I turned to find him marching toward me, a bright smile on his lips. “Don’t be upset with me,” he said, grinning as he stopped less than an inch

from me, “but we’ve decided to rent a VIP room at a club for the boys. I have some business to handle while we’re in New Mexico so I won’t be there, but I thought it’d be fun for you to hang with them for a while.”

“Um, no.”

I shook my head, staring into Ben’s eyes that would have been identical to mine if they were blue instead of warm chocolate-brown. “That’s not happening. I think I’ll just stay on the bus.”

“Um, no,” he mimicked, “you’re not. That’s not what you came on this tour for and it won’t be an option tonight. You came to live it up a little, am I correct? To have fun?”

“Yeah, but you know I don’t do clubs, Ben.” Plus, knowing Gage was going to be there was bothering me already. I couldn’t be at a club while he was around. I didn’t want to find out what else he could do with those hands.

“Well, tonight will be a first night for everything. I bought you a nice dress and it’s in my dressing room. I have the keys to the tour bus, and I ordered our driver to take you straight to the club no matter how much you beg him to take you to the bus. A pretty big tip came in handy.” Ben winked, but I

gave him the evil eye.

“You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack, sweetie. Have some fun tonight.” He squeezed my shoulders, his eyes sympathetic. “You can legally drink now so I guess I can’t tell my baby girl to stay out of trouble anymore.” He pulled away, checking his watch before stepping backward and spinning around. “I have to get going, but you know where the truck is. Don’t get too crazy, and if you need anything, call me!” he called, winking over his shoulder.

I watched Ben walk down the hall and slip out the exit door. I couldn’t believe him. He was forcing me to stay out. Clubbing and partying was never my thing. I just couldn’t get down with the drinking and the jumping around. Seeing it on TV had always given me a headache.

I couldn’t understand why he wanted me to get out so badly and I wouldn’t have minded so much if I weren’t going to be in a VIP section full of guys—a fucking rock band! A band with Gage Grendel as the lead singer. I could only put up with his flirting for so long. My confidence levels weren’t high enough for me to endure it for an entire night.

I was definitely shit out of luck with this club situation.

I couldn’t have felt more embarrassed.

Even my driver was stunned by what I wore. Going from a blouse and skinny jeans to a skintight silver halter-top dress that stopped mid-thigh and revealed all legs was obviously shocking to him—hell, it was shocking to me! It was complete chagrin.

I wanted so badly to hide out in the dressing room. If the lights weren’t shut off and I wasn’t told the arena would be closing in ten minutes, I’d probably still be there. Had I not been chicken-shit and afraid of how dark and quiet it had become, I still would have stayed. But I swear I heard chains rattling at one point. I had to get out of the dressing room before a murderer showed up and strangled me. I guess the club was a better and safer place than a possible murder scene… maybe.

Tugging my dress down

with one hand while gripping the door handle of the truck with the other, I sighed and breathed roughly through my nostrils. I wasn’t sure what was in store, but by the bass of the music and the long line of people waiting outside the door, I knew to expect what I’d always seen on TV and in movies… maybe worse.

“What time should I come back?” Marco, my chauffeur, asked before I could shut the door. His eyes scanned my backside and I scowled at him as he met my gaze.

“Don’t,” I muttered, slamming the door in his face. I had never worn anything this revealing in my life. I would have chosen my T-shirts and loose jeans any day over this display of skin.

The music

boomed as I trudged forward in my six-inch heels. I finally figured out my dress wasn’t going to reveal my ***, so I stopped tugging on it as I carried myself across the pavement. I told the bouncer at the door who I was and who I was with, and after he checked his clipboard and nodded his head, I was inside the club.

Rave lights danced across the night scene. A few women wore glowing necklaces and held sloshing drinks in their hands. The music was loud and catchy—something I would most likely listen to during one of my fast-paced painting days. It wasn’t so bad… at least not yet.

I spotted Montana standing at the bar and rushed in his direction. It was a battle getting myself through the crowd. People were everywhere, grooving, shimmying, and gyrating. It boggled my mind that anyone could move so much at such a fast pace. Montana was leaning over the counter as I got closer. A female bartender giggled in front of him as she handed him a beer. He tucked a tip into her cleavage and she licked her lips, grinning and winking before he turned around.

“Montana!” I yelled after him before he could get away. He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing until he caught sight of me. He paused in his tracks,

scanning me with his eyes from head to toe, making me more and more self-conscious.

“Hi,” I breathed out as I met up with him.

“Hot damn, Eliza. Look at you,” he said, still drinking me in.

I fidgeted before him but kept my chin up. “I’m looking for the VIP section. Just got here and would love to sit down. My feet are killing me.”

He laughed, looking down at my heels. “I bet. Come on.” Draping an arm across my shoulders, he turned around and made his way through the crowd.

“Oh my God, it’s Montana Delray!” a girl squealed to her friend. I looked up and Montana winked, but he didn’t stop to speak.

“This must make you feel important,” I said over the music.

“Nah.” He shrugged as we neared double glass doors. “It’s not as exciting as it used to be.”

I nodded as if I understood, and he grabbed the silver handle of the door to swing it open. The VIP room was nice. There were white leather couches against the wall, a table already set up with drinks in the middle, and the same music from the dance floor flowed out separate speakers.

“Welcome to the VIP room,” Montana said. He grabbed the door handle again and stepped back out. “Help yourself to the drinks. I’ve got some fun to have.”

I watched him walk away and then turned to look ahead. No one was inside except Deed P. and a girl sitting on his lap. I don’t know why I worried about Gage’s whereabouts, but I was hoping to actually see him—just to admire him from a distance.

The music

grew louder from behind me as I took a step forward. A soft breeze brushed across my bare legs and a warm hand pressed against the small of my back, and that’s when I figured out why it had gotten so loud.

Gage Grendel was step

ping into the VIP room, his hazel eyes mellow and a warm smirk on his lips. His hair seemed sort of different and I couldn’t figure out why. It was hotter—still messy, but hotter. As the door shut behind him, his lips stretched even more. “What brings you here? You don’t seem like the kind of girl who likes to get down and party,” Gage said, his eyes slightly confused.

I sighed.

“I… uh… yeah… this isn’t what I was up for tonight.” He narrowed his eyes at me, obviously in need of a better response. “Ben forced me to come out,” I explained. “I’m not really a party person.”

“W

ell, maybe we can change that for tonight.”

“How?”

“We can start with a drink,” he said, lifting his hand and gesturing to the table. “We have beer, margaritas… or if you like the hard stuff, some whiskey, tequila, and vodka.”

My lips pressed into a line. “I don’t drink.”

“Damn. Sucks. You should definitely make an exception.” He leaned forward, his teeth glistening from the dim lighting above. His cologne filled my lungs and was even more alluring than before. He had on a completely different outfit from earlier—a horizontally striped blue-and-white muscle T-shirt, dark-blue jeans that weren’t too skinny, and his usual black-and-white Chuck Taylor’s on his feet.

I took a step back, realizing how close he was, and

then looked at the table. I never drank before, but maybe Ben was right. I wanted to have fun while on the tour and try new things. Why not let loose a little with someone like Gage Grendel? I knew I would never go too far with him, so I simply nodded and faced him.

“What would you have?” I asked.

With a grin, he pressed his hand against the small of my back and my skin tingled beneath the warmth. The hairs on my back pricked and my skin crawled in the most delightful way. He led the way toward the table and grabbed a shot glass of clear liquid.

“It’s not about me,” he said. “For you, I suggest a shot of vodka.” He handed the glass to me and I took it. “That is, if you’re really looking for fun.” Gage then grabbed another shot glass for himself and a part of me was relieved because I didn’t want to drink alone. “Let’s see. What should we make a toast to?” he asked.

“Um… for a rockin’ tour?” I asked, slightly wincing at how corny I sounded.

“That could work,”

he said, nodding as his lips pressed to form a smile. “We could also give it up to getting acquainted, becoming great friends, and for two months full of diehard fun?”

I giggled as his eyes softened. Who knew Gage could be just as charming as he is sexy? “That sounds great.”

“All right, to a rockin’ tour… and all that other shit I said before.” He smiled, we clinked glasses, and then I swallowed it down, and right after I pulled the shot glass from my lips, my throat burned. I was desperate to get something to cool it down with. With wide eyes, I looked from Gage to the table and picked up the tall glass of water on the edge. I took huge swallows while Gage and Deed laughed.

“You’ve got an amateur on your hands!” Deed yelled, still chuckling. “Sure about this one, Gage?”

I ignored Deed’s comment, licking my lips and turning to face Gage, who was already looking at me. “Why is it so strong?” I gasped.

He laughed.

“How else will you feel it?”

I shrugged, placing my shot glass down. As I looked up, Gage was still watching me, his head cocked to the side. His eyes were

lax as he surveyed me from head to toe. “Have you ever danced before?” he asked, licking his lips.

As I fixed my mouth

to tell him no, someone pulled open the glass door of the VIP room and stepped in. Her legs were the first thing I took in—long, tanned, glossy, toned… way better looking than my pale limbs could have ever been. Her red dress fit to every curve of her body. Glossy red lipstick was on her full lips and her hair was a deep brown, curly, and styled nicely against her shoulders. Her heels were a fierce red with a black tip. She put me to shame as she stepped forward with a warm smirk on her lips. I was even more humiliated as she hooked her arm around Gage’s waist and he looked down at her.

Something seemed to crack inside me then. I didn’t like how she’d come out of nowhere and put her hands all over him. It was rude, especiall

y while we were talking. I should have expected it from the lead singer of a band, but when he didn’t pull away—when he smiled back at her—I backed off and took a step away, grabbing another shot glass.

“Who’s your friend?” the girl asked. Great, even her voice sounded like harmonious bells.

“This,” Gage said, pulling the girl in tighter, “is Ellie.”

“Eliza,” I corrected.

Gage’s eyes broadened. “Eliza,” he whispered. “Smith.”

“Oh. Nice to meet you, Eliza,” the girl said. “I’m Penelope Binds, Gage’s girlfriend.”

Girlfriend?

If it were possible for the DJ to feel my emotions, the music would have scratched to a stop in the background.

“Nice to meet you,” I murmured, reaching a hand out to her. I couldn’t be immature. I didn’t even know why I expected Gage to be single. He was hot; of course there was going to be someone glued to his hip.

“Gage, I wanna dance,” Penelope whined, poking out her bottom lip. I rolled my eyes and turned around. It was worse than I thought.

“Let’s go, then. Oh

, and Ellie,” Gage called. I turned slowly, my eyebrows elevated. “Have fun tonight.” He winked, taking Penelope’s hand in his. My eyes followed them as they pushed out the glass door and disappeared within the crowd. A few girls squealed at the sight of Gage, but security guards stepped in the way, making sure they didn’t get too close to him.

I sighed

deeply because that just made my night even worse. Staring down at the shot of vodka in my hand, I finally decided to down it and grab another. I didn’t drink, but I wanted to have fun. I wanted to forget about what I’d just seen. My mom always told me drinking gets rid of the problems, but she was part of the reason I never wanted to touch alcohol in my life. Ben would offer wine, but I never took it. This was the night to be different, though. I had to find out if what my mom always said was true, even though she was a terrible influence.

I

looked at the door and in came Roy Sykes. He’d changed into a black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing the stretch of ink on his masculine arms and hands. His shaggy hair hung in his dark-brown eyes, and his jeans were black as well. His arms were just as pale as mine and covered with ink, but it fit Roy. He was really hot… just weird as hell.

As he spotted me, he came to a screeching halt, gripping the door handle a little too

firmly, his knuckles turning pale. His eyes stretched and then he took a step back. He took a few more steps back and I stared at him, completely lost. What was he so afraid of? Was he still upset about earlier?

Roy finally turned around and dashed away. The door shut behind him, but I could still see him making a beeline through the bodies.

“Maybe you should go out on the dance floor,” Deed said. His smile seemed kind of eerie, but I blamed it on the dim lighting above him. “It would make your night. Trust me.”

“And how do you know this?” I asked, giving him a small smile.

He chuckled. “Because dancing frees the soul, girl. It sets you loose. Makes you do things you never thought you could do.” He placed his hand against the small of the girl’s back and whispered something into her ear. She poked her bottom lip out but nodded, standing from his lap. As she walked by, she grimaced at me. She then opened the door and sauntered out and Deed came up to me. “Would you like me to dance with you?”

“No—Deed, that’s sweet of you, but I’ve never danced before and—”

“Eliza, is it?” he asked, cutting me off midsentence as he reached for another shot glass.

I nodded, pulling my bottom lip in to bite on it. He handed me the glass and I took it. He then grabbed a glass for himself.