Chapter 21

Colt had been in high spirits since his little intimate moment with Chelsea. It felt strange. The dark clouds that hung over him every now and then seemed to have been lifted. He lay back on his bed thinking about Reid saying that he should talk to someone about his past. The trouble was, he only remembered bits and pieces. What would he say to the shrink? Moreover, with Chelsea around, it seemed he didn’t need it after all.

It was the day of the concert, and he made the decision to spend some time with the boys rehearsing. They deserved better than he’d been treating them. His past was not their affair, and they could have walked. It was a wonder why they stayed in the band all this time when he never made them feel like a team. Things were going to change … today.

The sounds of the team members caused him to jump from the bed. He picked up his guitar that was leaning against the wall and yanked the door open. Mike, Cory, Andrew, and Tony all turned to look at him.

“Let’s go,” he said, walking past them towards the main entrance. No one moved. They all stared at him in disbelief. “What are you all staring at? Let’s rumble!”

“Are you sick, dude?” Andrew asked.

“Yeah, what’s going on?” Tony frowned, his face betraying his suspicion.

Colt grinned. “I’m fine. Are you all coming or not?”

In silence, they followed a few feet behind. He knew the shock they must be feeling. He was feeling pretty shell-shocked himself. He was not sure if breaking down the wall he’d so carefully constructed around him was a good idea. However, something happened to him that he never thought possible. He loved someone.

His feet froze as well as his brain. His heart started drumming so hard that he thought the boys would hear it. What the hell was that? Love? He loved her? Was it possible?

“I know he couldn’t do it,” Tony’s voice brought him out of his daze.

“Let’s go, creep,” he punched his friend playfully on the shoulder.

Perhaps one of the reasons he was psyched about heading to the pre-concert concert was because she was already there. He liked to call it the pre-concert concert because it was almost as packed as the actual show, except he didn’t actually perform. All they did was play the notes of the songs to perfection.

Chelsea had gone with Reid to finalize every detail—the press, the VIP section and ticket office and everything that was needed to be done. The bus moved slowly, and when it finally rolled to a stop near the beach, he was the first to head out.

He was ahead of the pack when they reached the stage. His eyes darted around for her, but he did not immediately see her. The instruments for the concert were already set up, but he changed the guitar that was meant for him so he could play his personal instrument. He tuned the guitar while he continued to look around.

When his eyes finally caught sight of her, a stab of jealousy almost knocked the wind out of him. She was talking quite animatedly with a man he’d never seen. She was laughing while the guy was making weird gestures. Who the hell was this man? He continued to scrutinize them both while the band started their first song. He could play that song in his sleep so went through the cords quite easily, though his mind was on other matters.

The conversation finally seemed to quell, but before the guy walked away, he hugged her, and she hugged him back. His finger missed and played a wrong cord. All instruments went silent before Cory started on the keyboard again.

“You’re rusty, Colt.” He laughed.

Colt wasn’t feeling as much mirth as he was before. What was it about Chelsea that made him so damn jealous? He hated to see her with someone else. He knew she was not a possession, but God, they had a moment, and that should mean something.

The man left her standing there. She looked after the guy with such fondness that he could rip the dude apart. He began strumming the guitar chords with the passion he was feeling. When they finished the song, he excused himself and went into the dressing room Reid had prepared for him. He left instructions with one of the stagehands that no one should disturb him.

* * * *

Chelsea knew that Colt hated to be disturbed before he went on stage. When her cousin Paul left, she had tried to find him after learning they were already there, but as she neared his dressing room, one of the men who worked by the stage told her that Colt ordered not to be troubled. She was disappointed. She wanted to wish him luck. This was his home crowd, though she learned that no one actually knew he was from LA except for Reid.

“Chelsea,” Reid walked up to her, holding a suit bag. “Give this to Colt. It’s his outfit for the concert.”

“He doesn’t want to be disturbed,” she told him.

“That does not include you, I suspect.”

She was confused as to what Reid knew. Did he know what happened? Did Colt say something? She didn’t ask. Instead, she took the garment bag and went in search of the rock star. The dressing room was a tent about fifty yards behind the stage. This was the usual outdoor setting for their concerts. It was the same for the New York concert.

“Colt,” she called from outside the tent. “It’s me. I have your suit.”

She planted a smile on her lips and waited anxiously. Maybe a kiss was forthcoming? The flap opened, and he gave her a dark look. The smile faded, and she stared at him, trying to figure his mood.

“What’s the mat …” she started to asked, but he grabbed the garment bag from her and retreated before she could complete her question. “Colt? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” his voice was hard as well.

She was baffled. What could have gone wrong? She heard that he was in such a good mood that he came to rehearsal and then he changed suddenly while on the stage … on stage. Gosh, was he … no … that could not be. She pushed the flap and entered the tent. He was lounging on a beach bed with his eyes closed.

“Colt,” she said his name sternly, and his eyes flew open.

“What do you want?”

“Don’t do this,” she told him, meeting his eyes.

“What are you babbling about now?” he asked lazily.

“Pushing me away because you’re jealous,” she said, moving toward him.

He sat up and held her gaze. “Who says I’m jealous?”

“You did the same thing on the bus; you withdrew when I wouldn’t tell you about Carl. Now you are acting the same way.”

“I need to change, scoot,” was his reply.

She did not move. He stared at her and then started peeling off his shirt. She stood her ground. He unbuckled his jeans, and she tried her best not to move, but her heart jumped into her mouth, and her knees got weak. She wobbled from the tent, letting out a long breath she had not realized she’d been holding.