Rolling to the side, I groan, stiffening when I feel something draped over me shift as I move. Peeling one eye open and then the other, I struggle to piece together the identity of the blonde figure lying next to me, her face partially masked by a flow of curls.
Slowly peeling her arm off me, I let out a deep breath when she seems unaffected by the movement. Pushing back the covers, I slide to the side, scanning the room for my clothes the second my feet hit the floor.
I wish I could remember how the fuck I got here. The last coherent memory I have is hitting it up with the guys to celebrate our last night of the tour. Seattle was the fucking best, for more reasons than one apparently.
My eyes fall to the naked woman still sprawled across the white linen sheets, the smooth flesh of her back on full display; a tiny, little butterfly tattooed just above her right shoulder blade. What is it with women and fucking butterfly tattoos?
Shaking my head, I slide on my jeans and black t-shirt, grabbing my shoes from the floor before quietly crossing the space of the hotel room toward the door. The moment I reach it I tug it open, not looking in the woman’s direction again as I slide out into the hallway.
I hear Nora’s voice wash over me the moment the door latches closed behind me.
“There you are.” She lets out a long breath. “Where the hell have you been?” Her tone is a dead giveaway that she’s more than a little annoyed with me.
“I should think that should be pretty obvious.” I turn, giving her a wide smile the moment my eyes meet hers.
“You were supposed to be on the bus an hour ago. The guys are having an absolute fit.” She continues, my wide smile only seeming to add to her annoyance. “Seriously, Gabe, if your goal is to sleep your way across the west coast, you’ve done one hell of a job. Who was she this time?” She gestures to the door behind me, her pretty face flushed.
“Well…” I fight back my laughter. “I’m not really sure.”
“You’re a real piece of work you know that.” She shakes her head, her brown shoulder-length hair swishing side to side as she does.
“Thank you.” I smile, laughing when she rolls her eyes.
“That wasn’t a compliment.” She spins on her heel and sets off down the hall.
I can’t help but watch the way her ass moves in her fitted yoga pants. It’s enough to make me bite down hard on my bottom lip to suppress a groan. Man, what I wouldn’t give to have landed that girl just once before she was spoken for.
“Stop looking at my ass, Gabe, and move,” Nora calls over her shoulder.
After spending the first half of our kick off tour writing an article on my band Everything After, and the second half traveling with us to interview opening acts for her now booming freelance career, Nora has come to know me very well.
“So how did you manage to find me?” I ask, jogging to catch up to her.
“Easy. I followed the scent of man-whore and alcohol, and there you were.” She stops directly in front of the elevators, jamming the arrow button pointing down. “You know if you insist on disappearing after every show with some random bimbo, the least you could do is give someone a heads up as to where you will be.”
“What fun would that be?” I tease. “Besides, I didn’t become a guitar player so I could play by someone else’s rules; might as well take advantage of my position. It’s not every day a man can have any girl he wants. Well, almost any girl.” I raise my eyebrows at her suggestively.
“Wow. And here I thought you became a guitar player for the music.” She steps inside the elevator the moment the doors slide open.
Knowing she sees through my banter, I give her a playful wink before following her inside.
Punching the ground floor button, she eases back against the right wall of the elevator, crossing her arms in front of her chest. The action pulls at the low neckline of her shirt revealing the smallest amount of cleavage. My eyes immediately focus in on the exposed flesh.
“Are you kidding me right now?” I look up to meet her disapproving gaze.
“Well if you’re just gonna have them there on full display.” I shrug, turning to face the elevator doors.
“They are not on full display.” She quickly adjusts the neck of her shirt, her cheeks deepening in color.
Nora is beautiful but also very modest. She hides what other women usually flaunt. I think that’s part of the reason I was so determined to sleep with her when she first started touring with us. I had something to prove. Unfortunately for me, she fell for my best friend and the lead singer of our band, Killian, and the rest is history. They have been nearly inseparable ever since.
As for Nora and I, well, we are closer than some might expect given that I spent the first two months after we met trying to get in her pants. She’s actually one of my closest friends, and while I tease and torture her at every turn, there’s also nothing I wouldn’t do for her.
“I love you, Gabe.” She sighs, pulling my gaze to the side of her face. “I really do, but I cannot wait to get back to the world of responsible adults. Almost two years on the road with you, with only a small break in between, is enough to test even the sanest of individuals.” She stomps out of the elevator the moment the doors slide open.
“Oh come on. You know you’re going to miss me.” I quickly catch up to her, foiling her attempt to walk ahead of me.
Bumping her shoulder with mine, I laugh when she gives me a sideways glance and smiles, despite her attempt to seem mad at me.
“You’re impossible.” She tries to keep the smile on her lips from spreading but fails miserably.
“That’s part of my charm.” I drape my arm over her shoulder as we make our way through the automatic doors at the back of the hotel.
The morning sun is so bright I have to turn my face down in order to keep my eyes open.
“Look what I found,” Nora speaks just seconds after we exit, reaching up to push my arm away from her shoulder.
“Dude.” I hear Killian’s Irish accent clear as day and look up to see him sitting in the doorway of the tour bus.
“Don’t start, Kill. I remember a time when we always had to track your ass down.” I remind him, stepping past him onto the bus without giving him a chance to respond.
“What the fuck man?” Chet, our drummer, hits me with stern eyes from his place on the couch the moment I step on board, his girlfriend Kate tucked under his massive arm.
“Sorry,” I grumble, making my way toward the back of the bus.
“Don’t,” I hear Kate interject just as I pass them.
Knowing immediately she probably just saved me from one hell of an ass chewing, I make a mental note to thank her later. While Chester’s probably one of the funniest dudes I know, he’s also the first to put you in your place if he feels like you fucked up.
Stepping into the back of the bus that houses the sleeping area, I waste no time collapsing down onto my bunk, letting out a loud sigh as I stretch out on top of the stiff, thin mattress. The guys may be pissed that I’m late, but at least it was worth it. Well, I think it was anyway. I clearly drank way more than I realized last night, which seems to be a theme with me here recently.
“Seems weird that it’s over, doesn’t it?” Aiden’s voice makes me jump slightly.
“Shit, dude. You scared the fuck out of me,” I talk to the bunk above me that creaks as Aiden shifts.
“Sorry.” He laughs lightly.
“What do you mean?” I ask, tucking my hands behind my head.
“The tour,” he clarifies. “Seems like it was just a couple of weeks ago we were leaving Georgia. Now we’re heading back after touring the country for almost two years. I feel like we are returning as completely different people; well some of us anyway,” he tacks on.
“If it ain’t broke don’t fix it,” I retort, sliding my tongue against the side of my lip ring.
Aiden snorts lightly but is too mild mannered to really give me any shit about my punctuality. He’s definitely the timid one of the group. He hides behind his bass guitar like it’s a shield. One day I’m gonna break this man out of his fucking shell, one day. Of course, I’ve been saying that for like five years now, and look where it’s got me. Fucking nowhere. He’s still as backward as the fucking day I met his goofy ass.
“I know what you mean, though,” I tack on. “I’m going to miss being on the road. I’m ready to get back into the studio, though. Believe it or not, I fucking miss Pete’s.” I laugh, referring to the small local studio that the band has been using since the day we started recording.
While the label wants us in L.A. where we all live now, and where we recorded over half of our first album, Killian insisted that we stay true to our roots and spend the next couple of months in Athens laying down tracks for our much anticipated second album at Pete’s.
“So you’re not nervous about going home?” he asks.
I hear the engine of the bus fire to life just seconds before it jolts forward, causing me to sway slightly in my bunk as it rolls over the curb leading out of the parking lot.
“Why would I be nervous?” I ask curiously, the question striking me as odd. “Athens is where we grew up, dude. I’m not really looking forward to enduring an entire summer in the Georgia heat but other than that I’m actually kind of excited.” I shrug despite the fact that he can’t see me.
“I don’t know. I’m kind of nervous.” He doesn’t elaborate on his response.
“Why?” I ask, waiting what feels like an eternity for an answer. “Spit it the fuck out.” I knock the bottom of his bunk with the back of my hand.
“I just, I don’t know. It’s easy to pretend we’re something special when we’re surrounded by people we don’t know. But going home?” He phrases it almost like a question.
“You’re tripping over nothing, dude. We fucking hit multi-platinum this year, do I need to remind you of this fact? Let the fucking facts speak for themselves. We sure as shit don’t have anything to prove to anyone.”
“Well not everyone can just walk through life not giving a fuck, Gabe. I don’t even know why I’m talking to you about this.” Aiden falls quiet above me.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I bite, trying to hold back the sudden punch to the gut I feel over his comment.
“I’m just saying, while you were out killing your liver and fucking everything that walks, some of us were actually taking this shit seriously. And some of us actually care.”
“I do take this shit seriously.” My eyes stare daggers into the bottom of the bunk just feet above me. “And of course I fucking care.”
“Yeah, okay.” Sarcasm laces Aiden’s voice.
“Dude, where the fuck is this coming from?”
“Nowhere. Just forget it.”
“Fuck if I’m just gonna let you say shit like that and not explain what the fuck you’re getting at.”
I roll out of my bunk, seconds away from giving this asshole a piece of my mind when Killian’s voice washes over me from behind.
“He’s right, Gabe.” He crosses his arms in front of his chest and leans against the door frame.
“He’s right about what?” I spit, already knowing where this is headed.
“You haven’t been taking this shit seriously for a long time, man, and honestly, we’re worried about you.” His accent comes out thicker than usual which always happens when he gets all serious about shit.
“Who’s worried about me?” I can feel the walls going up, my reaction clouded by my natural instinct to defend myself.
I had a feeling this was coming. Honestly, I’m surprised it’s taken them this long. I’ve watched the way the guys whisper behind my back and walk on eggshells around me like one day I’m just gonna explode. Makes sense they waited until the end of the tour.
“All of us,” Chet chimes in, stepping up next to Killian.
“This is how you want to do this shit?” I look between the two guys before spinning toward Aiden just as he slides out of the top bunk and steps up next to me.
“We’ve wanted to talk to you for a time now.” He rests his hand on my shoulder, apology lacing his features.
“Well, someone spit it the fuck out already.” I shake off Aiden’s hand and flip my gaze between my three bandmates who all seem to be hoping that the other will speak up and say something.
“Your alcohol and drug use have gotten out of control, Gabe,” Killian finally speaks, his features laced in apology but also something else… Pity?
“Is this about this morning? I’m sorry I was late.” I try to keep a cool head and fight down the immediate anger that rips to life in my chest.
“It’s not about this morning, Gabe. It’s about every morning for the last fucking year,” Chet interjects.
“So I oversleep.” I shrug like it’s nothing.
“You don’t just oversleep man.” Killian pulls my gaze back to him. “You get so fucking crocked that you wake up with no idea where you even fucking are.”
“I show up to every gig, and I play my fucking heart out just like the rest of you. What the fuck is it to you what I do afterward or where I end up.”
“Because believe it or not, asshole, we actually care what happens to you,” Chet booms, clearly starting to lose his patience with me. “At this point, you’ve stuck your dick in so many places, you’ll be lucky if you don’t have a fucking disease by now. Never mind the shit you’re pumping into your body on a daily basis. You’ve got a serious problem, man, and it’s only gotten worse over the last couple of months.”
“So I like to get fucked up every now and again.” I throw my hands up in defeat. “What the fuck do you want from me? We went fucking multi-platinum this year, assholes. Do I need to remind you that I wrote half of the songs on the fucking album?” I can feel the control on my temper slipping.
“Nobody is saying you don’t bring value here,” Aiden finally speaks up. “Why don’t we all just sit down and discuss this calmly.”
“Calmly?” I question, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “We are way past sitting down and talking calmly.” I shake my head, taking a few steps backward. “We’re supposed to be a fucking family. Have each other’s backs and shit.”
“We are a family,” Killian objects. “And as your family, we’re trying to look out for you. You drink all the time. You show up to half the shows on one thing or another. You disappear afterward and none of us know whether you’re dead or alive until you stumble to the bus the next day, usually well after when we’re scheduled to leave. You have fucked us in more ways than you realize.”
“Then why are you just now saying something? If you guys have such a problem with how I’m living my life, then why haven’t I heard this before?”
“We say shit all the time, dude.” Chet sighs loudly. “You fucking laugh it off like we’re just giving you shit. Since clearly subtle hints don’t work for you, let me just spell it out. You have a fucking problem, and you need to take care of your shit before you pull the rest of the band down with you.”
“I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration,” I grind out, trying to hold my shit together before I explode.
“It’s not.” Aiden shakes his head slowly back and forth.
“So what the fuck are you saying?” I look directly at Killian.
“Clean your shit up or you’re out,” he answers without hesitation.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“Why are you guys doing this?” I look around at the group surrounding me, disbelief clear on my face.
We’ve been together for years; certainly, they wouldn’t just cut me out because they don’t agree with my lifestyle choices.
“Because we know where this leads, Gabe,” Chet jumps in, crossing his massive tattooed arms in front of his chest. “If you don’t do something now, you’re just going to turn into another fucking statistic; a washed up rock star who couldn’t hang under the pressure. It starts here but then what? You end up in rehab or worse.”
“Fuck,” I huff, running my hands through my short hair.
“We have a week off, and then we’re in the studio. I need your word that you’ll be there on time and sober,” Killian adds.
“Doesn’t look like I have much of a fucking choice now does it?” I grit my teeth.
One minute I’m a fucking rock god—
fucking women, trashing hotel rooms, following in the footsteps of all the greats before me. The next I feel like everything is crumbling around me. So much for my perfect fucking life…