[English] BACKSTAGE PASS (Vượt Qua Qua Khứ)

Backstage Pass
Page 50



He grinned at her sleepily. “So why are you out of bed and dressed?”

“I was planning on taking you to breakfast, since I’m starving. I was also hoping to pick up a toothbrush and maybe a change of clothes. I’m feeling kind of helpless, trapped here with no provisions.”

“Ah, I’m being an insensitive prick. Gotcha.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I’m up!” He tossed his covers aside and climbed out of bed. He hunted the floor for clothing. He found his boxers under the edge of the bed. He slid into them and stood at the foot of the bed, slapping his face with both palms to wake himself up. Myrna’s arms circled his waist from behind. She pressed her cheek against his back and then sucked a gentle trail of kisses over his skin from one shoulder blade to the other. He paused. Affectionate in the morning? Good to know. When her hands flattened over his bel y, he stiffened, instantly alert. Her kisses trailed down his spine and back up. She then rested her cheek against his back and sighed.

“If you’re trying to get me in the mood,” he said, “it’s working.”

“No, I’m not trying to seduce you. Are you awake now?”

“So that was your intention?”

“I’m sorry to have ulterior motives, Brian, but I’m starving.” Her stomach rumbled loudly. “Al I had for dinner yesterday was a mint on the airplane.”

“I invite you here and don’t even feed you dinner. I wonder if the roadies stocked the refrigerator with anything but beer.”

He tugged her toward the door and out into the corridor. Quiet snores came from the curtained bunks on the left side of the bus. Brian punched Trey in the arm on his way past his bunk. Trey slapped at Brian’s head, but missed, and immediately fel into snores again.

“I’ve known Trey since fifth grade. It’s required that I f**k with him on a regular basis.”

She rol ed her eyes at him, shaking her head slightly.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She had a wel -****ed look about her. He wondered how she’d talked him into leaving bed. Shouldn’t he get the chance to bask in the accomplishment of putting that look on her face?

He forced his attention from her face and opened the smal refrigerator. Some leftover take-out containers from God-only-knew when. Cans of beer. Bottles of beer. A half-gal on of no-longer-liquid milk. He closed the refrigerator. “This isn’t looking good.” He opened a cabinet. An empty box of cereal to go with the solid milk. Cherry suckers. A sock. He closed the cabinet and glanced at her over his shoulder. “Wanna go out to eat?”

“If I want *****rvive the experience, I think that’s probably the best idea.”

He hugged her and kissed her temple. “We’l borrow Jace’s bike again.”

She grinned. “I wonder if Eric is stil wearing your lucky hat.”

“He probably slept in it. Assuming Jace didn’t tel him what was in it. Let’s find you some warm clothes. As much as I enjoyed warming you up last night, I’d feel guilty if I made you ride on the back of a bike in a skirt again.”

She fol owed him back to the bedroom and he offered her a pair of Jace’s jeans and one of his own band-logo T-shirts. The jeans were loose around her waist but snug on her hips and clung to her ass in a most beguiling fashion. She slipped into her high-heeled shoes. “I look ridiculous.”

“You look gorgeous, as always.” He drew her against him and kissed her passionately. She went limp in his arms, total y submissive to his eager mouth and seeking tongue. He eyed the bed, but decided feeding her breakfast was for the best and drew away. “Let’s go before I toss you back into bed.”

“I wouldn’t protest much,” she murmured huskily.

Her stomach rumbled. Her eyes widened and she covered her bel y with one hand.

“But your stomach would.”

He took her hand and they made their way to the front of the bus. He handed her Jace’s leather jacket and put on his own before retrieving the spare set of keys from the glove compartment.

He considered a disguise. “Do you think anyone wil recognize me?”

Myrna ran her fingers through his hair, looking him over careful y. “You’re a mess, Brian. I don’t even recognize you.”

He glanced into the rearview mirror, stretching the skin on his cheek with his fingers. “Seriously? Did I sleep on my face again?”

She chuckled. “I’m kidding. You are instantly identifiable. Let’s just go through the first fast food drive-thru we encounter. We can come back here to eat and avoid your rabid fans altogether.”

“Only if I can use your naked bel y as my plate and drip my ketchup into your bel y button.”

She looked at him through half-lowered eyelids. “Let me tel you what I’d rather you drip into my bel y button.”

His thoughts shifted through various fluids he could introduce to her navel.

He covered her mouth with his hand. “Woman, don’t say things like that.” Taking her by the arm, he tugged her off the bus. She stumbled on her high-heels and he scooped her up into his arms. She laughed, hugging him around the neck as he spun around. She looked spectacular in the early morning sunshine—definitely worth missing three of hours sleep. He deposited her on the back of Jace’s motorcycle and started the engine. He handed her a helmet and put on the spare. Myrna leaned against his back, her arms circling his waist. He covered one of her hands with his and smiled. As much as this woman turned him on, he truly treasured her occasional bouts of tenderness. Her free hand slid down his bel y and clutched his belt buckle. His smile broadened. So her bouts of tenderness were extremely occasional. So what?

Backstage Pass
Page 51



He drove the bike out of the parking lot and turned left in front of the expo center, sticking to the main road. When they drove past a super store, Myrna shouted, “Stop here!”

He pul ed into the parking lot. “Why here?”

“I can get everything I need here. Drop me off at the door.”

“What about breakfast?”

“You can go get breakfast while I pick up a few necessities. It shouldn’t take me long.”

He pul ed to a stop in front of the store’s main entrance. “I’l come with you.”

“It wil be faster if we split up.”

“Are you always in such a rush?” he asked.

“I want to get back to the bus and play with ketchup.”

That convinced him. Myrna held onto his arm as she climbed from the bike. She lifted her helmet’s visor and then ran her hands over her pockets. “Crap, I forgot my purse.”

Brian reached for his wal et. “Here.”

He pul ed out a chunk of cash and tried handing it to her. She shook her head. “I can’t take your money.”

“Why not?”

“I just can’t. You already bought me a plane ticket and…”

She got that “I feel like a whore” look on her face that plagued her on occasion.

“Pay me back later if it wil make you feel better, but honestly, Myr, it’s not a big deal. I’ve got plenty.”

She snatched the bil s out of his hand. “I’l pay you back.” She glanced at the money in her hand. “There’s over a thousand dol ars here! Why do you carry so much cash?”

He shrugged. “I guess when you survive on a hundred bucks a month for several years, you make sure it never happens again.”

She started stuffing bil s back into his hand. “I don’t need this much.”

“Take it. Buy anything you want. But hurry up about it. I’l be back with extra ketchup packets in less than half an hour.”

She shoved the cash into the pocket of Jace’s jeans and lifted the visor on Brian’s helmet. Their helmets cracked against each other as they sought each other’s mouths. She laughed, kissed her fingertips and pressed them to his lips.

“I’l hurry,” she promised.

She dashed into the store like a woman on a mission. Brian watched her until she was safely inside and then headed for the fast food restaurant down the street. He ordered a lot of food, not sure who would be awake when they returned.

“Can I get some extra ketchup?” he asked the young woman at the window, grateful that the motorcycle visor concealed his face.

“Sure. Like how much?”

“A couple of handfuls.”

She fulfil ed his request and handed several bags of food out to him. He shifted back on the bike seat to store the food in the compartment beneath it.

After returning to the super store, he parked the bike near the entrance and waited for Myrna to come outside. People eyed him warily as they passed. Brian cracked his knuckles, amused by the wide berth they took around his threatening presence. About ten minutes later, Myrna emerged, carrying two large sacks.

“Have you been waiting long?” she asked breathlessly. “I tried to hurry.”

“I just got here.” He’d have waited an eternity.

She climbed onto the bike behind him, settling her purchases between their bodies. As they headed back to the bus, he came to loathe the shopping bags keeping Myrna’s body from pressing against his. Once inside the bus, Myrna sped toward the bedroom. Brian tossed a bag of food into Trey’s bunk and a second bag into Jace’s.

“Too early for this bul ****,” Jace grumbled.

Brian thumped him on the head. “I think you mean, thank you for thinking of my bottomless stomach, Brian.”

By the time he made it to the back bedroom, Myrna was devouring a sausage and biscuit.

“I couldn’t wait any longer,” she explained, her mouth ful as she talked. “And what’s with al the ketchup?’ She pointed at the open sack sitting on the long dresser.

He grinned at her crookedly. “I can’t eat hash browns without ketchup. Before I get naked, do you want a beer?”

She pointed at her sacks of purchases. “I bought some juice.”

Brian would have liked to have a beer, but she didn’t drink and it was stil pretty early for that indulgence. “Great.”

He searched through her purchases and found several bottles of juice and a huge bottle of chocolate syrup. He held the chocolate syrup out to her, his head ****ed to one side. “I don’t think that milk in the fridge is drinkable.”

She was adorable when she blushed. “I wasn’t planning on using it to make chocolate milk.”

He grinned. “Ketchup isn’t good enough for you?”

She lowered her eyes. He wondered about her sudden shyness. “I prefer chocolate.”

“I think you’l like ketchup, too.”

He handed her a bottle of juice and searched the take-out bag for a breakfast sandwich. “Why are you stil dressed?” he asked. “I thought you were going to be my plate.”

She held up one finger, stuffing the last bite of her sausage and biscuit into her mouth, and then opened her juice to take a long drink.

She fished the money he’d given her out of her pocket and handed it to him. “I owe you a hundred and twenty bucks,” she said. He tossed the money onto the dresser.

“Myr, you real y don’t have to pay me back.”

Backstage Pass
Page 52



“Why not? You don’t think I can afford to?”

He’d never seen her angry before. He liked the way her eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared.

“I don’t know,” he teased. “You’re a teacher. You don’t make much money, do you?”

Her mouth fel open in disbelief. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“Are you going to hit me?” he asked hopeful y.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, naughty boy.”

His eyes dropped to her waist. “Wil you use your belt?”

“I thought Jace was the one with the masochism fetish.”

He glanced up at her, surprised. “How do you know that?”

“Groupies talk.”

“Do they? And what do they say about me?”

She chuckled. “That you’re a boring, one-woman man.”

He winced.

“I only agree with that second part,” she added.

“So I’m not boring?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve always been the skeptical type and I can be hard to convince without lots of evidence.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “I see. So I need to prove I’m exciting.”

“I think that would be for the best.”

He looked down at the sandwich in his hand. “Can I eat first?”

“Please do.” She took another long drink of her juice and set it down on the dresser. She removed her shoes and belt. Jace’s jeans slid down low on her hips. She unbuttoned the fly and let them fal to the floor. She tugged off Brian’s borrowed T-shirt. He should wear that one on stage tonight to keep her close.

“Do I need to be completely naked to be your plate?” she asked.

He realized he was holding his sandwich in front of his open mouth, but hadn’t taken a bite.

“Yeah. I’ve never seen a plate in underwear before.”

She unfastened her bra and tossed it aside. She pushed her br**sts up with her hands. “You know these things used to be perkier.” She looked down at the twin globes of flesh spil ing from her palms.

He didn’t understand why, but by not trying to act seductive, she was actual y turning him on more. “They’re perfect.”

Her panties joined her jeans on the floor. She glanced over her shoulder, straining her neck to try to see her butt. “I think my ass used to be perkier, too.”

Brian bit into his sandwich, chewing slowly.

“Gravity is a woman’s worst enemy.” She looked up at him uncertainly.

He swal owed. “You’re beautiful, Myrna.”

“Does it bother you that I’m older than you are?”

“Yeah, like, what, six months older?”

“I’m thirty-five.”

He hadn’t expected her to be seven years older than him, but frankly, he didn’t care how old she was. She was the ***iest woman he’d ever met. “You’re in your ***ual prime, Myrna. And trust me, that doesn’t bother me at al .”

“You could have any hot young woman you want—”

“Where’s this coming from?”

“Oh my God! Oh my God! It’s Master Sinclair!” Myrna squealed and trembled from head to foot with excitement. “Oh my God! Wil you sign my tits? Please. Please. You’re soooo hot!”

He tossed his sandwich aside, grabbed a handful of ketchup packets from the take-out bag, and tackled her to the bed. He straddled her hips to hold her down.

“Certainly, I’l sign your tits, miss. Anything for a fan.” He opened a ketchup packet with his teeth. She laughed uncontrol ably, squirming beneath him. “Hold stil .”

She stopped squirming and looked up at him, her hazel eyes wide. He began to write across her chest in ketchup.

“P-R,” he spel ed aloud. “O-P.” He tossed the empty packet on the floor and reached for another.

“Prop?”

“I’m not finished.”

“That tickles.” She giggled.

“E-R-T-Y.”

“What are you writing?”

He opened another packet and wrote in the middle of her bel y. “O-F.” He moved to her lower bel y. “B-R.”

“Property of brrrrrrr?”

“Yeah, property of brrrrr. Exactly.” He opened another packet of ketchup and finished his name on her bel y. “Perfect. Property of Brian. I just need to dot this i.”

He dabbed a dot of ketchup in the center of her nipple. “Damn, I missed.”

He lowered his head and licked the misplaced ketchup off. She laughed, her fingers stealing into his hair.

“Let me try that again.” He dripped ketchup on her other nipple. “Damn my terrible aim.”

He sucked the tangy ketchup from her nipple, loving the way the rosy peak hardened against his tongue. He stroked the bud vigorously with the center of his tongue until she shuddered and made that maddeningly ***y sound in the back of her throat. His c**k hardened instantly.

He was done for. Again.

He lifted his head and dribbled ketchup on her lower lip. Her tongue darted out between her lips.

“Hold it. It’s my mess. Only fair that I clean it up.” He leaned over her and kissed her deeply. Her lips tasted spicy, like sausage. Which reminded him. He hadn’t finished his breakfast. He broke away from her hungry kiss and looked down at her. “Do you want some hash browns?”

She chuckled. “You know what I want, Brian.”

Backstage Pass
Page 53



“Hash browns.” He climbed from the bed and retrieved the bag of food from the surface of the dresser.

“I think maybe you are boring,” she teased, watching him from the bed.

He glanced at her, liking the way “Property of Brian” looked written across her body. He wondered if he could talk her into getting a tattoo to make his claim permanent. Climbing back onto the bed with her, he covered the ketchup with chains of smal potato rounds. When he had them spread to his satisfaction, he lowered his head and licked one off her body.

“Yeah, hash browns are definitely boring,” he said.

She grinned at him. “I think I like being your plate.”

He chewed and swal owed his ketchup-coated hash brown. “You don’t mind the mess?”

“I assume you’re going to clean up after yourself.”

“You have a lot of faith in my self-control.”

She traced the angle of his jaw with her finger. “I do. I bet you can resist making love to me for at least ten minutes.”

He licked another hash brown off her chest. “You have a lot more faith in me than I do.” He plucked a hash brown from her chest and popped it in her mouth before slurping several more into his mouth. Ten minutes? He wished he was buried inside her right now. He fed her several hash browns in quick succession and made a pig of himself by eating as fast as he could. Eagerness had gotten the better of him.

She giggled as he licked the food off her bel y. “I guess you are hungry.”

“Starving!”

After they finished the hash browns, Brian lapped the remaining ketchup from her silky skin with broad strokes of his tongue. She shuddered beneath him and tugged at his hair.

“You’re driving me crazy,” she gasped, her head tossed back, her back arched.

Encouraged, his tongue moved to her breast, up her shoulder, along her neck to her ear. He traced the outer edge of her ear with his tongue. She groaned, her fingers tangling in his hair. He settled his body on top of hers, cursing the inventor of clothes, and suckled her earlobe, nibbled it, sucked it again. Her thighs spread for him and he sank between her long, shapely legs. His mouth moved to the pulse point under her ear near her delicate jaw. She shuddered. He brushed his hands along her arms and shoulders, delighting in the feel of her soft br**sts pressed against his chest and the heat of her *** permeating the fabric of his jeans.

He kissed his way along her jaw to her chin and final y her mouth. She sucked at his lips, her tongue eager against them. His c**k throbbed. He leaned his hips away from hers slightly and unfastened his pants. The Beast, as she cal ed it, sprang free, craving her moist heat. He knew he should take his time with her, work her into a frenzy, make her beg him to possess her, but he could only concentrate on the memory of how it felt to be buried inside her without a rubber. He took his c**k in his hand and probed the hot, moist entrance to heaven. She relaxed beneath him with a sigh. He looked into her eyes as he entered her—languidly fil ing her with one achingly slow thrust. Her back arched with pleasure, but she didn’t look away. They stared at each other, relishing the connection between them. He slid in and out of her slowly, not wanting to find release, just wanting to experience her. To become a physical part of her. To feel her. To know her.

“Myrna,” he whispered.

“Brian.”

Yeah, Brian. Not Master Sinclair. Brian.

He had everything he wanted. He needed. Right here. This woman. He knew she wouldn’t appreciate his sentimental thoughts. She didn’t want to hear that he loved her, no matter how clearly he felt it. So he just stared into her eyes while their bodies came together, apart, together, and swal owed his words where they settled as a lump in his throat.

Chapter 16

Myrna rol ed over, her arm landing on Brian’s flat stomach. Sheets of paper crinkled beneath her. She smiled. He’d had a very productive day of song writing and she’d be bow-legged for life. His arm moved to wrap around her back, drawing her closer to his side.

“At this rate, I’l have the entire new album written by next week.” He paused. “Except you’re leaving in two days.”

He didn’t sound very happy about the idea. He frowned. She smiled. She hoped the band accepted her as their tag-along. She real y did want to spend more time with Brian. He rocked her world in more than one way.

“Do you think the guys are up yet?” she asked.

He tilted his head back to look at a digital clock on the side table. “It’s two already?” He sat up. “Yeah, I’d say they’re up.”

From the bed, he col ected the sheets of music he’d composed, peeling one off Myrna’s sticky back when she rol ed over for him. She needed a shower. And about a liter of water. She’d gotten quite a workout in the past five hours. Treadmil s had nothing on this man.

“I can’t wait to show this to Trey.” Brian held up one of the scores. The one he’d written while f**king her hard on the floor. “He’s going to flip.”

“I can’t wait to hear it. It sounded fantastic when you were screaming it at me.”

He beamed like a kid at Christmas. “Yeah, it’s good, I think.”

Myrna crawled from the bed, unsteady on her feet. “I stil need to talk to the band. Should I wait until after you’ve gone through al your new music with them?”

“What do you want to talk to them about?”

“You’re included in this,” she said.

Backstage Pass
Page 54



“In what?”

“I want the entire band to make the decision. So when we’re talking this over, I don’t want you to think of me as your lover.”

“Yeah, that’s possible.” He laughed. “Not!”

He set the sheets of music on the dresser near the door and wandered around the bed. He drew her naked body against his, hand sliding over the curve of her ass. “So tel me what this is about.”

She kissed his jaw. “I have to talk to al of you at once,” she insisted.

He pouted. “I’m not special?”

“In this case, no.”

He sighed. “Al right, I’l cal this band meeting for you.” He found his discarded pants and slid into them, fastening them around his slim hips. “Get dressed. I’l be back.”

He picked up his sheets of music and left the room shirtless and barefoot.

Myrna found the bags of items she’d purchased that morning and dressed in her new clothes. Cheap, but functional. Better than a suit. But a suit would have made her seem more professional when she asked the band for this favor. She searched the floor for her discarded suit and held it up, deciding if she should change into it. It was a wrinkly mess. The door opened. Brian peeked in.

“I’ve got the guys al together. You ready to talk to us?”

She smiled, tossing her suit on the bed. She slipped on the sandals she’d bought and searched for her purse to retrieve her grant acceptance letter. “Have you seen my purse?”

“I think it’s by the door.”

“Right. Thanks.”

She walked past him, dropping a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth. He closed the bedroom door and fol owed her. Locating her purse on a counter, she pul ed the letter from inside. “Where are they?”

Brian stared at her bare throat above the flowing, green tank she wore. “You look hot.” A glazed look came to his eyes.

“Earth to Brian,” she said. “Your band members. Where are they?”

He closed his eyes and shook his head slightly. “On the other bus.”

Guitar music and boisterous conversation came from the open door of the second bus. Myrna climbed the stairs, nervous for some strange reason, and entered the vehicle. A large group of men stood, sat, or perched in a circle around the main room. She saw al the band members and several familiar faces from the show in Chicago. Roadies. Trey had an acoustic guitar in his hands and was strumming notes written across a piece of paper splattered with chocolate syrup. Trey stil ed his guitar strings. Heads turned and al eyes fel on Myrna. She flushed. “Hel o.”

“Myrna!” Eric said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He was stil wearing Brian’s hat. She bit her lip so she didn’t laugh. Her eyes moved to Sed’s face. He sat in a captain’s chair watching her. He was undeniably the leader of this band. His presence radiated from his body like a monarch’s. If he said no, she was certain the rest of the band would take his side. Sed was the one she’d have to convince.

“You smel like Brian,” Eric said in her ear.

Her face hot, she pushed him away. Eric squeezed around her and sat beside Jace on the beige leather sofa.

“So what’s this about?” Trey asked, setting his guitar on the floor at his feet. He sat next to Jace on the sofa across from Sed. Al the roadies watched her curiously. Brian wrapped an arm around her waist and she leaned against him for support. She grasped the letter tighter. Why was she so nervous? She didn’t want Sed to tel her no, that’s why. She wanted a reason to…

She glanced at Brian. He smiled gently, offering encouragement. Maybe it was better if they told her to get lost. She’d have a much easier time not fal ing for their lead guitarist.

She focused on Sed. “I have a favor to ask of you.”

“Anything, Myrna.” He seemed sincere.

“I need a mil ion dol ars to pay the ransom on my kidnapped poodle,” she said.

Sed’s jaw dropped.

She laughed. “Kidding.”

Brian burst out laughing. “Oh my God, did you see the look on his face?”

“**** you, Sinclair,” Sed said.

“Sorry, Sed, I couldn’t resist,” Myrna said. “You looked so serious sitting there.”

“I respect you, Myrna,” he said, “or I did.”

Every male occupant on the bus stared at Sed with his mouth hanging open. Myrna wasn’t sure why his statement shocked them so much, but she pressed on. “In truth, it’s for work. My research.”

“Which part of me would you like to study?” Sed asked, grinning.

She flushed once again, flustered. The man was al alpha male. She didn’t think a woman existed who wouldn’t react to him.

“Your groupies.”

“I didn’t know you swung that way, Myr,” Eric said. “Can I watch?”

“You want to study my groupies?” Sed asked.

“Wel , not just yours.” She glanced at each member of the band in turn. “Trey’s, Jace’s, Eric’s.” She looked up at Brian. “Brian’s.”

“I don’t get it,” Jace said.

“That’s because you don’t have any groupies,” Eric said, punching him hard in the arm. Jace shoved him. Eric climbed to his feet, his hands bal ed into fists. Myrna flinched.

“Knock it off, Eric,” Sed demanded.

Eric hesitated, glanced at Sed, and then plopped down on the sofa, his jaw flexing as he clenched his teeth together.

Backstage Pass
Page 55



“Myr, what are you asking for?” Brian asked. “Specifical y. I mean why do you need our permission to study our groupies? It’s not like they’re our property.”

They were, in a way, but that’s one of the things she planned to study. “Wel … I was hoping I could go on tour with you for the summer.” She forced her eyes from Brian to Sed. “I know I’l be a burden, but I’l try to stay out of your way. The grant includes a stipend for the band for al owing me to travel with you and to cover my expenses—ten thousand dol ars. You can have the entire sum.”

Sed laughed, his head thrown back, the deep sound rumbling through his broad chest. “You’ve got to be f**king kidding me.”

Her hopes plummeted. She bit her lip and lowered her gaze. Why did her heart feel like a big lump of ice in her chest? It wasn’t that big of a deal. She could find another band. A less famous one that could use the money. She turned to leave and ran into Brian’s chest.

He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed. “I say she comes with us.”

Sed’s laughter trailed off. “Wel , of course she’s coming with us. She’s your f**king muse, Brian. I just can’t believe this amazing stroke of luck. She’s offering to pay us to help you write songs.”

She turned her head to look at Sed. “No, you’ve got it al wrong. I’m not doing this to stay with Brian. This is for work.”

Sed grinned. “Like the reason matters. Yeah, I say you’re welcome to tour with us. What do the rest of you say?”

Trey blew a huff of air through his lips. “Have you seen these licks Brian’s been writing?” He swept a hand toward the stack of music on the table. “I was prepared to kidnap her and her little dog. Yeah, she stays. Of course she stays.”

“No objection,” Jace said.

“I have one con***ion,” Eric said. He lifted a finger into the air.

“Whatever you’re going to ask, the answer is no,” Brian said.

“Damn.” He scowled. “But—”

“No.”

“Fine, since you insist, she’l sleep in my bunk with me. The sacrifices I make for this band.”

Myrna shook her head at Eric in disbelief.

Brian took her chin between his finger and thumb and lifted her face to look at him. He searched her eyes and then lowered his head to kiss her. The grant letter tumbled from her fingers as she clung to the skin of his bare chest. Three months with Brian? Yeah, she might be able to handle that.

Chapter 17

“It’s just a few more days, Brian,” she said into her cel phone as she walked to her car after work. “I have a bunch of things to take care of here first. I do have a life, you know.”

“It’s just… I’m going crazy with missing you.”

She smiled. “I miss you, too. Thanks for the flowers, by the way.”

“Flowers?”

“Don’t play coy. They were signed, See You Soon, so it had to be you. And how did you know gladiolas were my favorite flower?”

“I should have sent you flowers, but I can’t take cre***. Who would send you flowers?”

“They weren’t from you?” She bit her lip. Who would send her flowers? Her parents maybe? Or one of her sisters?

“No, they weren’t from me. Is some bozo hitting on you?” He sounded more upset than he should be.

“Nah. Probably from my parents. So, where wil you be on Saturday? I should be able to get out of town by then.” She unlocked her car and slid her laptop case across the front seat.

“Saturday? That’s five days away!”

“Friday night? I might be able to swing that, but it doesn’t look good. I need to pack. Get al my obligations in order. The work week doesn’t end until Friday and final grades are due tomorrow. I’l be up al night grading.” She smiled to herself, knowing the reason for her being behind in her grading was on the other end of the line. Every minute spent with that reason was worth missing out on a night of sleep. “Be patient just a little longer. I promise I’l make it up to you.”

“I just miss you.”

“Brian, we’ve only been apart for one night.”

“I know. I know.” He sighed. “Let me check the schedule.”

She climbed into the Thunderbird and waited for Brian to speak.

“Friday. Um… We’l be in Nebraska. Looks like Lincoln.”

“That’s about four hours from here.”

“That’s not far,” he said, an excited edge to his voice.

“What time is your show?”

“We go on at ten. We have three bands opening for us. The actual show starts at six-thirty.”

“I’l probably miss it, but I’l try to get there. I wil see you afterwards. I promise.”

“Or we can skip the show, meet in Vegas and get married.”

“No, we cannot.”

“Are you sure there isn’t some guy making his move on you?”

“Good-bye, Brian.”

He sighed. “I’l cal you later.”

She flipped her phone closed and tossed it into her purse. She backed the car out of her parking space and headed for her apartment on the north side of the city.

Brian was already getting too close. Too clingy. She didn’t do clingy. It made her nervous. And jealous? Jealous led to protective. And protective drove her nuts. She liked him, probably more than she should, but she wasn’t prepared to make a long-term commitment. And he kept bringing up this marriage thing. She knew he was joking, but stil …

Backstage Pass
Page 56



Marriage? Myrna shuddered.

Chapter 18

Myrna parked her car behind the Lied Center in Lincoln, Nebraska. The throbbing sounds of the concert rattled her dashboard. The drive had been long and uneventful, but she was tired. Driving four hours after a ful day at work and an insane amount of packing wasn’t advisable. She climbed from the car and headed for the end of the barrier fence. She’d just wait for the band on the bus and send a roadie after her luggage.

A security guard in a bright yel ow shirt stopped her from entering the area in front of the waiting buses.

“I’m with the band,” Myrna told the guard. He had a six-pack stomach. The kind produced by consuming a six-pack of beer every night.

“I’ve heard that before,” he said. “You can’t go past the barrier.”

“So I’m just supposed to wait here until the band comes out and validates my story.”

“That’s the only way you’re getting past me.”

She sighed loudly, too tired to be patient. “Are there any roadies around? They know me.”

“Promising roadies favors won’t get them to lie for you.”

“Ugh! I could strangle you. When does the show end?”

He checked his watch. “Forty minutes or so.”

She might as wel sit in her car. “When Brian or any of the other guys blow through here, tel him Myrna Evans is waiting in her car. And she’s not very happy about it after driving for four hours.”

“You’re Myrna?”

“Yeah.”

“ID?”

She shuffled through her purse until she found her driver’s license. She handed it to him. He inspected it careful y as if she were some fifteen-year-old trying to sneak into a nightclub.

“Al right,” he said final y, handing her license back to her. “That guitarist guy kept coming out here asking if anyone had seen you before their show started.”

She smiled. Eager to see her, was he? The guard shoved the metal fence piece slightly so she could squeeze between two of the barriers. “Thanks for keeping my guys safe.” She patted him on the cheek and walked the inside of the barrier toward the building. Several fans mil ed near the back door, waiting for the band to come outside. Maybe now would be a good time to do a preliminary survey for her research.

Nothing formal. She didn’t have her survey questions set yet, but she could do a few informal interviews to get a better idea of how to ask questions. The hardest part about studying psychology was getting the questions worded properly to avoid leading the subject or introducing her personal bias.

She approached a young scantily clad woman.

“Hel o,” Myrna said to the woman. “Can I talk to you for a few minutes?”

“How did you get on that side?” she asked.

“I’m with the band.”

She glanced at the security guard and whispered to Myrna, “Can you get me backstage?”

“No. Sorry. Why do you want backstage?”

“So I can meet Trey Mil s. Why else?”

“He’s a great guy. Incredibly talented,” Myrna said. “What do you know about him?”

“Uh, everything. His birthday is June 9th. He has seventeen tats and twelve piercings. His real name is Terrance, which he hates, so he goes by Trey. His middle name is Charles. Trey was born and raised in Los Angeles. His best friend is Brian “Master” Sinclair, who he met when he was eleven and they started a band cal ed Crysys in 8th grade. He had a dog named Sparky when he was a kid. It got hit by a car. You know their song, “Good-bye Is Not Forever?” Trey wrote that about his dog. He—”

“Okay, you do seem to know everything about him. Why do you want to meet him?”

“Duh. He’s Trey Mil s.”

“Yes, I know who he is. Why do you want to meet him?”

“I love him. I want him. I need him.” She clutched her hands in front of her chest and rol ed her eyes for emphasis.

“And what do you hope comes from this meeting?”

She laughed. “A baby. Are you a reporter or something?”

“No, I’m just curious. So you want to have *** with Trey Mil s?”

“Yeah, of course. Don’t you?”

Myrna laughed uneasily. “I have other interests. Have you had these feelings for any other men? Study their lives in detail, think you know them, profess to love them, and try to have intercourse with them?”

She shrugged. “Just other band members.”

“Let’s say that Trey isn’t interested in you, but Jace Seymour invites you to the tour bus for ***, do you go?”

Her brow furrowed. “Yeah, I’d do Jace. He’s hot. He might introduce me to Trey. A win-win situation. You know what would real y be awesome? A threesome with Trey and Master Sin—”

Myrna lifted her hand to silence her. “So how do you act toward regular men? Ones who aren’t famous.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you regularly engage in promiscuous ***?”

The girl stared at her for a long moment. “Are you asking if I’m easy?”

“Are you?”

“Yeah, I guess.” She shrugged. “Is there something wrong with that?”

“As long as you’re okay with it, it’s fine. Have you ever had *** with a man you’ve just met?”

She looked puzzled, as if thinking hurt her brain. “On a first date, you mean?”

Backstage Pass
Page 57



“No, I mean, some hot guy comes out of that door, walks up to you and says, ‘Let’s have ***.’ Do you go?”

She scowled. “No, that’s sick.”

“Let’s say Trey Mil s comes out of that door, walks up to you and says, ‘Let’s have ***.’ Do you go?”

“Yeah. I already said I would.”

“What’s the difference between the first guy and Trey?”

She paused and then shrugged. “I know Trey.”

“You know facts about Trey’s life, but you don’t know him. You’ve never met him, have you?”

“I do know him,” she spat. “I love Trey. And as soon as he meets me, he’l love me back. Understand?”

“Yeah, I think I’m starting to understand, actual y. I real y appreciate your talking to me.”

“So can you introduce me to him?”

“I’l put in a good word for you.”

She smiled. “That would be awesome!” She pul ed a tube of lip gloss from her tiny purse and applied several coats. Myrna talked to several other young women while she waited for Brian to finish his show. A trend emerged among them. They al had similar attitudes. She even found a girl in love with Brian. Talking to her was weird.

“How long have you been in love with Brian?”

“He prefers Master Sinclair, actual y.” The girl rol ed eyes surrounded with far too much blue eyeliner. Myrna knew for a fact that he didn’t, actually, but let Fan Girl think what she would.

“Um,” the girl continued. “I saw him live a couple of years ago, before the band got real y famous. Have you seen him on stage?”

“Yeah.”

“Isn’t he ***y?”

“Yeah. He’s definitely ***y.”

“And when he fingers his guitar, like…” She wriggled her fingers in rapid succession. “It’s like, oh my God, I want him, you know?”

“Yeah. I total y get that. How do you know you’re in love with him?”

“I think about him constantly. I have every picture of him ever taken taped to my wal . I watch his videos in slow motion.”

Creeped out, Myrna didn’t bother suppressing a shudder. “Isn’t that obsession, not love?”

“No, it’s definitely love. I’d do anything for him.”

She couldn’t stomach talking about Brian with obsessed fans any longer. “Thanks for talking to me.”

“Can you hook me up with Brian?”

**** no. She smiled at the girl. “I don’t think he’s interested, honey.”

Maybe she should stick with studying the rest of the band’s groupies, but avoid Brian’s. The back door swung open. Brian emerged, steam rising from his skin as the cool evening air hit his sweat-drenched body. He raced toward her and wrapped her in his arms, seeking her mouth for a welcoming kiss. Camera flashes went off. Something slammed into the back of Myrna’s head. Hard.

She jerked away from Brian, rubbing her scalp. “Ow.”

Brian looked down at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Something hit me,” she said, her eyes watery with tears. “It real y hurt.”

He retrieved a black ankle boot from the ground. “Who threw this?” he demanded, scanning the congregated fans. Only one girl stood beyond the barrier with a matching boot on one foot and nothing on the other. Brian approached the girl and shook the boot in her face. She flinched. It was the same girl who had claimed to be in love with Brian minutes before. “Did you hit my girlfriend with this?”

“Your girlfriend!” she wailed.

“Your girlfriend?” Myrna murmured.

Myrna rubbed the lump on her head, stunned more by his words than being clobbered in the back of the head.

“I’m sorry, Master Sinclair,” the fan girl said. “I love you. I love you.”

“And you think hitting someone I care about in the back of the head wil get positive attention from me?”

“I didn’t mean to,” the girl cried, tears pouring down her cheeks. “I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad at me.”

He shoved the boot into the young woman’s chest. “Get out of here!”

He looked at the back of Myrna’s head, fingering the lump there. She sucked a pained breath through her teeth.

“Are you okay, baby? I think this is bleeding.” He looked down at his fingertips for signs of blood. The rest of the band exited the building then. Sed paused in front of Myrna, who looked up at him, stil grimacing in pain.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Some bitch hit her in the back of the head with a boot.” Brian touched the lump on the back of her head again. She wished he would stop already.

“What is this?” Brian asked, fingering the back of her head again. “A scar? What—”

She twisted away from him. “It’s nothing.”

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Sed said. They ignored the group of fans who were growing in number by the minute and went directly to the bus. Sed told the girls fol owing him to wait outside.

Brian directed Myrna to a seat at the dining table and treated her scrape with peroxide from a first aid kit. The entire band was looking at her like she’d been in a horrible accident and was expected to die at any moment.

“I’m okay,” she insisted.

“You’ve got to be more careful, Brian,” Sed said. “You know what some of these fans are like.”

Backstage Pass
Page 58



“I wasn’t thinking.” Brian tossed a wad of wet gauze on the table and kissed Myrna on the back of the head. “I was just happy to see her.”

Sed grinned. “Yeah, I get it. But be happy to see her in private. Okay? We don’t want her to get any death threats.”

“I don’t know how you guys deal with some of this stuff,” Myrna said.

“What stuff?” Brian asked.

“The fans. They honestly believe they know you. That chick who hit me knew more about you than I do. They say they’re in love with you and they mean it. It’s pretty twisted. They’ve never even met you.”

“It gets us lots of pu**y.” Sed grinned.

Myrna chuckled. “I guess so.”

“Are you going to party with us, Myr?” Eric asked.

“Not tonight, Eric. I’ve had a long day. I think I just need to go to bed.”

“I agree,” Brian said.

“We’l just leave you two lovebirds alone.” Trey grabbed Eric by the arm and pul ed him out of the bus.

“Take good care of her, Brian,” Sed said. Jace nodded. They fol owed Trey and Eric out. The fans cheered their return.

“I’m real y sorry about this, Myrna.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

“It was worth it. What I real y wanted to do was tel that girl you were mine and she better turn her obsessive attention elsewhere.”

He smiled broadly. “You did?”

“Yeah. Wil you do me a favor?”

“Anything?”

“Go wash off your eyeliner. I want to be with Brian right now. Not Master Sinclair.”

“Can Master Sinclair have a kiss first?”

“I’m not sure. I think my boyfriend might get jealous.”

He smiled and leaned down to kiss her. She clung to his shoulders as he plundered her mouth. When he pul ed away to gaze down at her, her heart throbbed with excitement. “You’re right, Brian is a little jealous,” he said. “But he’s stoked that you cal ed him your boyfriend.”

She shrugged. “Boyfriend I can handle. It’s that m-word I can’t tolerate.”

“Magical?”

“No, magical is fine. It’s that other m-word.”

“Al right,” he said. “Brian promises not to ask for a massage after a show any more, even though he real y, real y enjoys it and was hoping you’d indulge him in a few minutes.”

“You know what I’m talking about. Why do you keep asking me to marry you? It real y bothers me that you joke about it.”

“Who’s joking?”

Her heart skipped a beat. “I hope you are.”

Brian lowered his gaze. “It figures the first woman I ask to marry me thinks I’m joking.”

Her breath caught. “The first?”

“Yeah, the first. Only.”

He moved away from the table and went into the bathroom. Water splashed into the sink. Myrna took a deep breath and climbed to her feet. She had assumed he was the type to ask every girl he liked to marry him. Was she honestly the first? She stil didn’t want to get married—not ever—but she knew she should be more sensitive to his feelings. He couldn’t understand why she kept turning him down. She should probably explain it to him. She fingered the lump on the back of her head and then the long, thick scar beside it.

She fol owed Brian and stood in the bathroom door, watching him scrub off his stage makeup.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“What do you have to be sorry about?”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought… I didn’t realize you treated me special y.”

He looked at her. “Why wouldn’t I? You are special.”

She snorted. “Brian, you could have any woman you want. There’s nothing special about me at al .”

He shook his head in disagreement. “You sel yourself short, Myr. You’re wonderful. And I don’t want just any woman. I want you, but I guess you’re total y against the idea of marrying me.”

“Brian, I’m not against marrying you. I’m against marrying anyone. Besides, we barely know each other, how could you even contemplate such a crazy idea?”

“Sometimes you just know.”

“Know what?”

“You know when it’s real. This. You and me. This is real. I’ve never had anything that felt so real.”

“And to me it’s not real at al . It’s like a fantasy.”

He looked down at the sink. “Okay, that hurt.”

“I’m sorry.”

He looked up at her and smiled sadly. “Don’t apologize for your feelings, Myrna.” He approached her in the doorway and touched her cheek. “I think I know what it is. Tel me about your ex-husband.”

She flinched and turned away from him. He moved behind her and circled her waist with his arms, drawing her up against his body. She didn’t realize she was trembling until his steady strength settled behind her.

“I don’t like to talk about it.” Her trembling increased as flashes of memories assailed her.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured. “You’re safe.”

Safe.

Brian did make her feel safe. And for that, she’d tel him a little so he would understand there wasn’t anything wrong with him. It was her. “Jeremy was a good man when I married him. He just drank sometimes, and when he was drunk, he became a different person. At first, he got bel igerent every couple of months. And then, every couple of weeks. At the end, he was drunk every night. He’d accuse me of things, things I’d never done, never even considered doing. He thought I was having affairs. He was paranoid. Cruel. When I denied it, he’d—” A broken sob cut off her words.

Backstage Pass
Page 59



She dashed away her tears. Why was she crying? She hadn’t cried over Jeremy in years. She’d left him in her past. He couldn’t hurt her anymore. But even she recognized that as a lie. He hurt her every day.

Brian turned her around and held her against his chest.

She wrapped her arms around him, drawing on his strength. “He’d threaten me until I admitted doing whatever he accused me of. ****ing some guy. Touching or flirting with or even looking at some guy with too much interest.” Myrna looked up at Brian and his face blurred behind her tears. “You have to believe me, Brian. I never. I would never. I didn’t cheat. Not once. I never even considered it.” Her fingers curled into his shirt.

Brian’s arms tightened around her. “I believe you.” He rubbed his lips against the side of her head. “Did he hit you?”

She shook her head. “No, not while we were married. Strange as it sounds, I sometimes wish he had. It would have made it easier to leave. He mostly yel ed. Made me doubt myself. Sometimes I can stil hear his voice, screaming at me, cal ing me a whore. If our problems had stayed between us, I might have been able to deal with it, but Jeremy confronted several of my male coworkers and accused them of seducing me. He even got several of their wives involved. I had to leave my first faculty position because of it.”

“Why did you stay with him?”

“I was stupid; I kept forgiving him. He’d say, ‘I love you, Myrna. I love you. I love you. That’s al that matters. I love you.’ I believed it for so long. I don’t know how many second chances he earned by bastardizing those three words. Hundreds. I can’t even stand to hear them now. Those words repulse me. Remind me of my weakness. My stupi***y. I think the worst part was, as a psychologist, I knew what he was doing to me—I knew—and hated myself for taking him back over and over again, but I couldn’t break the cycle. I wanted it to work. But…”

Having already said too much, she bit her lip and fel silent.

His hand brushed over her hair and he kissed her temple. “But you left him, right? So you’re not weak. You broke away.”

“Yeah, I final y left him, but it didn’t matter. If anything, it got worse. He stalked me. I thought he was going to kil me. I got a restraining order. He ignored it. They’d arrest him and he’d be out of jail almost immediately. He was a wel -respected man in the community. Wealthy. Old money. Highly educated. Charming. Most people had no idea what he was real y like. And those who did were too afraid of his family’s affluence to do anything. After I left him, he fol owed me everywhere for months; his footsteps always echoed mine. I’d often find him standing outside my house. Watching. Leaving little love notes in places he knew I’d find them.” She shuddered. “But because he never hurt me physical y, they wouldn’t do anything. Verbal and emotional harassment don’t carry the same weight as physical abuse. I understand why, but it didn’t make it easier to live through it.”

Brian stroked her back and her preferred numbness returned. Why was she tel ing Brian al these things? She’d never told anyone the ful extent of her terror.

“The divorce,” she whispered. “The divorce was horrible. He refused to sign the divorce papers, so we had to go to court and I relived the entire ordeal in front of a judge. The accusations. The things he said to me. How he humiliated me in front of people I wanted to respect me. Thank God the judge believed me and pushed the divorce through, even though Jeremy contested it. The day I was legal y free of him, the day our marriage official y ended, was the best day of my life. I never want to be trapped like that again—

by the word love or the institution of marriage.”

“So after the divorce he final y left you alone?”

She shook her head. “He refused to accept it. He kept stalking me. Continued to refer to me as his wife. When I started dating again, he snapped. In his mind, I was cheating on him. I’m sure Jeremy slashed my date’s tires while we were having dinner. Then one night he broke into my apartment and waited for me to come home. I don’t remember much of it, just waking up in the hospital two days later.” She took his hand in hers and lifted it to the uneven ridge on the back of her head. “This scar. He gave it to me. Hit me with the fireplace poker, knocked me out cold, beat me within an inch of my life, and then the idiot cal ed an ambulance.”

“Jesus Christ.” Brian pressed his lips to her temple.

“He confessed to the whole thing and went to jail. I changed my last name, moved, and covered my tracks, so he’d never find me again.” That’s why she’d been so scared when Brian had found her so easily. She reminded herself that Brian had known to look in Kansas City. Jeremy would not. He couldn’t find her. He couldn’t. He didn’t even know her name. But the flowers… Jeremy knew gladiolas were her favorites.

“Thank you for tel ing me,” he said. “I understand a few things about you that were bugging me.”

She bugged him? “What kind of things?”

He hesitated. “I… Wel , I notice you tend to freeze up for a few seconds when we try something a little kinky.”

She flushed. “You noticed that, huh?”

“It’s like you, the real you, is this uninhibited, open, ***ual being, but something makes you feel it’s wrong. It’s not wrong, Myrna. It’s wonderful.”

“Somewhere in my head I know that, Brian, but I’m damaged.”