[English] BACKSTAGE PASS (Vượt Qua Qua Khứ)

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“Asparagus?” Eric asked hopeful y.

“Yeah, asparagus sounds excel ent,” Sed agreed.

“That I can do. I’m going shopping. Who wants to come?”

Al five men lined up in front of her. She grinned, deciding they probably just wanted to get out of cleaning. “My car is a coupe, guys. I only have room for one. The rest of you stay here and clean out that refrigerator. Come on, Brian.”

“Why does Brian automatical y get to go?” Eric complained.

“I’m her boyfriend. Duh.”

“We can take my bike,” Jace offered. “I’l fol ow.”

“I’l ride with you,” Trey said to Jace.

“And Myrna can sit on my lap in the car.” Eric snagged her around the waist and tugged her against his side. “I won’t mind.”

“I’m not f**kin’ staying here by myself.” Sed slammed the refrigerator door.

The five of them stared at her like puppies at a pound desperate to be adopted. Pick me. Pick me!

Like she could say no to any of them. “Fine. We’l find a way to fit, but when we get back, you’re cleaning. Al of you.” Her eyes drifted over her companions. They’d stand out more than usual in this podunk town. “Do you think you al need disguises? Otherwise we’l have to fight off fans.”

“We’re in The-Middle-of-Nowhere, Wyoming,” Trey said.

“This town has like, twelve hundred people,” Eric said. “And I think most of them live in the old folks’ home.”

“What? You don’t think the elderly listen to metal?” Myrna asked.

“We’l take a chance,” Trey said.

Trey settled on the back of Jace’s motorcycle. The rest of the guys crammed themselves into Myrna’s little Thunderbird. With Brian driving, Eric sitting in the middle, and Sed on the passenger side, Myrna was forced to sit partial y on Sed and Eric’s laps. She spent most of the short drive moving Eric’s hands from inappropriate locations. Sed thumped him upside the head on occasion. “Wil you leave her alone?”

“I hope we don’t get pul ed over,” Myrna said. “We look like a group of thugs on our way to rob a bank.”

Brian laughed. “Yeah. Except our getaway car is frickin’ pink and worth more than Sed’s dental work.”

Sed grinned like a shark to show off his perfect teeth.

They found a family-owned grocery store near the edge of town. Brian pul ed into the parking lot and Jace’s bike rumbled in after them.

Eric grabbed Myrna in a tight embrace on his lap, while Sed unfolded his 6 foot 4 frame from the little car. Brian climbed from the driver’s seat and offered a hand to Myrna to help her out of the car.

“We’re good, thanks,” Eric said, squeezing her closer. “See you when you get back.”

Myrna slid a hand up Eric’s neck into his black hair. He had the craziest haircut she’d ever seen. It was long on one side and down the back, yet shaved to stubble on the other side. A ridge of spikes along the top separated the stubble from the long strands. The finger-thick lock that curled around his throat changed color on occasion. Today it was a deep blue. A week ago, it had been crimson red. His hair suited him, she supposed, but he should sue his hairstylist. As her fingers intertwined in the long strands at the nape of his neck, he glanced down at her, his eyes wide in surprise.

“Yeah, you guys go on ahead,” she said, staring up into Eric’s pale blue eyes and running her tongue over her lips. “Eric and I are going to stay in the car and make out.”

His grip on her slackened as he lowered his head to“Psyche!” She shoved him away, before squirming out of his lap.

“Dude,” Eric complained. “That was so not cool.”

“Yeah,” Brian agreed. He helped her to her feet and wrapped an arm around her back. “No one says ‘psyche’ anymore.”

“Wel , I’m old,” Myrna said. “I can’t help my lack of cool.”

As soon as they entered the store, a thin, nervous-looking man started fol owing them through the aisles. Myrna supposed rock stars looked like shoplifters. She smiled reassuringly at the little man and he turned to fiddle with the stock on the shelves. Eric moved to stand next to the store clerk. He stroked his chin as he examined the condiments. “Brian’s woman thinks we need to eat better,” he said to the guy. “That attractive, normal-looking babe over there. See her?”

The manager glanced at Myrna. He nodded slightly and returned to his unnecessary shelf tidying.

“Anyway,” Eric continued. “I’m pretty sure she’s going to make us eat salad. Do you like salad?”

“I guess.”

Eric clapped him on the shoulder. The man flinched. “Great! I assume you’re a salad dressing expert, since you keep rearranging these bottles. So, what dressing would you recommend to a bunch of derelicts like us?” He grabbed the man’s nametag and leaned unnecessarily close to read it. “Kevin.”

“Eric,” Sed said. “Leave the guy alone.”

“Why? I assumed Kevin wanted to offer some customer service to his customers. That’s why you’re fol owing us around, right, Kevin?”

The man brushed Eric’s hand from his shoulder. “Raspberry Vinaigrette is good.”

“Do we look like the kind of guys who’d eat Raspberry Vinaigrette salad dressing?” Eric asked. Kevin glanced from one band member to the next. “Uh…”

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Myrna grabbed Eric by the ear. “The answer to that question is: Shut up, Eric.”

“Ow!” Eric protested.

“I like Raspberry Vinaigrette,” Trey said. He put a bottle of dressing in the cart. “Do they make anything cherry-flavored?”

Kevin shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

Trey took his sucker out of his mouth and pointed it at him. “Wel , they should.”

“Cherry salad dressing? Disgusting,” Brian said, his nose wrinkled. “Ranch is best.”

Jace selected several bottles of creamy dressing and put them in the cart without a word. Eric grabbed Myrna’s wrist to pul her pinching fingers from his ear. “My point is, Kevin,” he said, “we don’t need a babysitter. Thanks.”

Sed was at the end of the aisle looking at spices. “Hey, Myrna, do you know how to make lemon-pepper chicken?”

“Sure do,” she cal ed to him. She pul ed her arm from Eric’s grip and went to help Sed pick out spices. The other guys fol owed her with Jace pushing the cart. Apparently, Jace had been grocery shopping before. Without any prompting, he added things to the cart that Myrna would have chosen herself.

“Get some jalapeños,” Eric said to Jace, who’d just added a jar of dil pickles to the cart. “I’l make us some omelets.”

“You’l make yourself an omelet,” Brian said. “Your cooking is worse than Trey’s.”

“Is it my fault you don’t like cherries?” Trey said.

“No one likes cherries in stir fry.”

“I do.”

Myrna rubbed Trey’s head, messing up his hair. “I’l bake you a cherry pie, sweetie. Would you like that?”

He hugged her against his side and kissed her temple. “I love you. Brian, I love your woman.”

Brian smiled slightly, but didn’t look at Myrna when he said, “Don’t we al ?”

They didn’t lose their tail as they wound through the aisles, but Kevin was a little less obvious about fol owing them. He watched them from one aisle over.

The store had an excel ent butcher who produced choice cuts of fresh meat. “We’l have to clean out the freezer when we get back,” Myrna said. “I can’t pass up this meat.”

“The freezer is highly toxic,” Trey said. “Can’t we just throw out the whole refrigerator and get a new one?”

“Yeah, let’s do that,” Jace agreed. He was tossing T-bones into the cart as if they were having a buy-one-get-ten-free steak sale.

“Sheesh, Jace, are you hungry?” Myrna asked.

“There are fourteen of us.”

“Good point. Get ground beef. I’l make chili.”

“Do you real y want to be trapped on a tour bus with a bunch of guys who’ve consumed large quantities of chili beans?” Brian asked.

Myrna laughed. “Another good point. Okay, I’l make lasagna instead. Tomorrow.”

“Now you’re talking.” Brian kissed her temple. “I love Italian food.”

“Make sure you get enough pork chops, Jace,” Sed insisted. “I’l eat like three or seven of them.”

They made a second trip through the store for things she’d need for lasagna. By the time they finished, two carts were ful to the top.

“I’m not sure al of this wil fit in my car,” Myrna said. For a smal car, the Thunderbird had a good-sized trunk, but their carts looked like they were stocking up to start their own mobile grocery store.

“We’l make it fit,” Brian said. “Or load Eric up like a pack mule.”

“Uh, no,” Eric said.

Jace started unloading the cart onto the conveyer belt. Myrna had a hard time accepting what the groupies said about him. A sadomasochist? He was always such a sweetheart. Quiet. Shy. Gentle. If she hadn’t seen what he kept in his suitcase with her own eyes, she’d never have believed it. He didn’t even attempt to look like a natural blond. Platinum hair, dark beard stubble, dark brows. It was cute though. Myrna couldn’t put her finger on why. With that baby face of his, he looked like the requisite tough guy of a boy band, not a member of a metal band.

Jace must have felt her stare, because he glanced up, his brown eyes inquisitive. “What?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.” She handed him a package of Italian sausage. He placed it on the conveyer belt.

“God, I want a cigarette,” Trey said, eyeing the locked case behind the counter. He fidgeted with the zipper on his sleeve repeatedly before cleaning out an entire display of cherry suckers and dumping them on the checkout stand. Myrna squeezed his elbow in encouragement and moved around Jace to the cashier.

“Did you find everything you needed?” the young woman asked as she dragged products over the scanner.

“I think so.” Myrna looked at the two cartfuls of groceries being unloaded by an assembly line of rock stars. She smiled to herself.

“I hope so.”

A blood-curdling scream emitted from the back of the growing line. Sed’s body suddenly careened into Eric’s. Brian steadied them.

“Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!” a high-pitched voice squealed from about the level of Sed’s bel y button. A young girl, no older than thirteen, had almost knocked Sed to the floor with her exuberance. “Oh Sed, I love you. I love you!”

“So much for the retirement community theory,” Jace said as he continued to unload the cart. Sed glanced at Eric with wide eyes. Eric shrugged.

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Sed patted the girl’s head uncomfortably. “Hel o there. I think you have me confused with someone else.”

“I’d know you anywhere,” she insisted. “You’re Sedric Lionheart. The lead singer of Sinners.”

Sed winced. The rest of the people in line started craning their necks, trying to glimpse the rock stars in their midst. Sed bent and whispered something in the girl’s ear. Her face lit up and she nodded. She hugged him and returned to the back of the line, bouncing on the bal s of her feet excitedly. Her entire body trembled from head to foot.

“What in the hel did you tel her?” Eric said under his breath. “She’s a child, Sed. I hope you didn’t—”

Sed punched him in the arm. Hard. “Have some faith in me, f**khead.”

Another line opened, and the very young fan girl rushed to the front of the second line, knocking an elderly lady sideways in her haste. The girl kept her eyes on Sed the entire time the cashier rang up her smal purchase. She paid and then rushed out of the store. She stood in front of the glass doors peering in at them from outside.

“What did you say to her?” Brian asked.

“I just told her if she was quiet, I’d autograph my shirt for her outside the store. What kind of sick bastard do you think I am?”

“You don’t want me to answer that,” Eric said.

“Sticks, you’re asking for a serious ass whippin’,” Sed said.

Brian presented his stack of cash to pay and they pushed the carts of sacked groceries to the car. Sed’s little shadow fol owed them, chattering excitedly. While the rest of them loaded the trunk, Sed removed his leather jacket and plain white T-shirt. He put his jacket back on and borrowed a pen from Myrna. He signed his shirt before handing it over to the girl. She lifted it to her nose and inhaled, her eyes rol ing into the back of her head. Sed ran a hand over his shorn hair, looking very uncomfortable about the entire situation.

“Can I get the band’s autographs, too?” the girl asked.

“Of course!” Sed said, taking the shirt back and passing it around until each band member had signed it. The trunk was ful to bursting with groceries, but they managed to get it shut on the third try. After returning to their vehicles, Brian drove out of the parking lot, with Jace fol owing on his bike. The young fan waved good-bye to them, clutching Sed’s shirt to her narrow chest.

“****, what a disaster. I’m glad you guys signed the shirt, too. I didn’t think of what that would look like when I told her that she could have it. What was I thinking?” Sed said. “I could just picture her daddy showing up outside the tour bus with a shotgun.”

“It was completely innocent,” Myrna said.

“Yeah, but if your thirteen-year-old daughter comes home with some man’s shirt, you wouldn’t think it was innocent. You’d want to shoot him in the back.”

“I suppose that would look bad,” Myrna agreed.

“I guess when you say you’d give your fans the shirt off your back, you aren’t exaggerating,” Brian said. They laughed. Sed’s body relaxed, though he kept checking the side mirror for signs of an angry daddy with a shotgun. Brian pul ed up beside the tour bus and put the car in park. “Last one out of the car has to do al the laundry.”

“I don’t do laundry,” Sed grumbled. Before the words were out of his mouth, Brian had already leapt from the car and Eric scrambled out after him.

Sed grabbed Myrna around the waist and refused to release her. “I won’t be the last one out of this car. I don’t do laundry.”

“Then get one of your groupies to do it for you. I’m not doing it.”

He buried a hand in her hair and tugged her head back to stare down into her eyes. “I’l make it worth your while.”

Myrna leaned against the door, which opened unexpectedly. She clung to Sed’s bare chest with her fingertips to keep from tumbling to the asphalt on her head.

Brian’s angry face appeared upside down above her. “What the f**k are you two doing?”

Sed’s arms wrapped around Myrna’s body. “What does it look like?” His lips brushed over her jaw. “Oh yeah, Myrna. Yeah. Don’t stop now, baby.”

“I can’t believe this.” Brian tore his gaze from Sed long enough to glare at Myrna. “I leave you two alone for ten seconds and you’re already—”

“You think I’m cheating on you?” Myrna sputtered.

She crawled over Sed’s massive body and out of the car, landing gracelessly on the ground at Brian’s feet.

“You’ve got your hands al over his naked chest, al submissive in his arms and he’s kissing you. What do you expect me to think?”

Myrna scrambled to her feet and shook her head at him. “I can’t f**king believe this, Brian. You’re just like my ex-husband.”

When he reached for her, she shoved him aside and stormed away.

***

Stil reeling from an eyeful he’d thought he’d never have to see again (Sed with his hands al over a woman he cared about), Brian watched Myrna stomp up the bus stairs. He couldn’t believe she’d compared him to her psychotic ex-husband. Did she real y think he was like that ass**le?

Inside the bus Eric cal ed, “Hey, Myrna, Jace said he’l clean the fridge al by himself. So you can get started cooking those pork chops. I rescued my special cinnamon and dil rub from the garbage.” A loud crash of cookware fol owed. “Don’t cry. You don’t have to use it if you don’t want to.”

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Brian started after Myrna, but Sed grabbed his arm. “Dude, learn to take a joke.”

“A joke?”

“Yeah, I was just playing around. Teasing her. Myrna and I weren’t doing anything. She’s not like those other bimbos you cal ed girlfriends. You can trust her.”

“I did trust her. And then you… you were touching her, and looking at her, and your lips, and her hands, and… she wasn’t even trying to stop you…” His eyes landed on Sed’s bare chest. “Go put on a goddamned shirt, Sed!”

Brian took a deep breath. He knew he had overreacted, but he also knew what Sed was like. He turned good girls bad. But Myrna wasn’t a girl. She was a woman. Somewhere inside, he knew she would never betray him with Sed. She wasn’t like the others. It wasn’t her he didn’t trust. It was Sed. “****. I’ve got to go talk to her.”

Brian found her in the living area with Jace and Eric, stuffing dirty clothes into a garbage bag. She had a streak of mascara under one eye. He hadn’t meant to make her cry.

“Myrna, I didn’t mean to accuse you—”

“Go help Trey unload the car, Brian. I don’t want to talk about this right now.” He touched her arm and she flinched away from him.

“Don’t even think about touching me.”

“Sed told me there was nothing going on.”

“So you’l believe Sed, but automatical y think the worst of me?”

“No, I just… it looked like… Sed’s done this to me so many times, and…” He rubbed his forehead. He couldn’t concentrate. The thought of losing her ate the inside of his chest raw.

Eric grabbed Myrna and shoved her against Brian’s chest. “Kiss and make up.”

“I think he should squirm a little longer,” Myrna said, but she didn’t move away. Not even when Brian’s arms crept up to circle her back. “He knows how much I hate being falsely accused of cheating.”

“I never actual y accused… But I shouldn’t have even thought it. I’m sorry, okay?”

“Okay.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay?”

“Yeah, I overreacted. A little.”

Brian kissed her forehead and squeezed her tighter, inching her body toward the bedroom. “Can we go make up now?”

She laughed and hugged him. “We need to go get this laundry done.”

“We could always make up on the washing machine at the laundromat.”

She leaned back and looked up at him, adventure sparkling in her gorgeous, green-flecked eyes. “Yeah, we could.”

God, he loved this woman. If Sed touched her again, he would kil him.

Chapter 26

Myrna shook her head at Brian. “We’ve been through this a hundred times. I’m not staying in L.A. with you.”

“You can get your work done while we’re rehearsing and in the recording studio,” he said. “And we have a music video shoot in a couple of days. You can use that entire day to work.”

Lounging on his back in one of the curtained bunks, Brian trailed his fingers lightly over her bare shoulder, tracing the spaghetti strap of her satin nightgown. She lay on his bel y, her folded arms on his chest and her chin resting on her interlaced fingers. She stared up at his face, which was mostly concealed in shadows, contemplating her options. He’d been wearing her down for almost a week, and as much as she wanted to have fun with him, she knew she had to use this opportunity to get caught up on her work.

“You know if I stay, I’l want to watch everything you do. You’re too much of a distraction. Besides, it’s only a week. It won’t kil us to be apart for seven days.”

“We’ve been together almost every moment of every day for three weeks. Seven days apart wil feel like an eternity.”

“You know what they say. Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

“If my heart grows any fonder, it’s going to hop out of my chest and into yours.”

She melted. She scooted up his body to kiss him. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“It sounds sort of fatal,” he murmured.

“Then I don’t want your heart to grow any fonder.” She kissed him again and rol ed toward the wal .

“Don’t think just because you’re being stubborn you’l get out of meeting my parents,” he said. “They’l be at the show tomorrow night.”

She sat up, her head inches from crashing into the ceiling. “What?”

“They always come to our show in L.A. Trey’s parents. Sed’s parents. They’l probably al be there. It’s like an elementary school Christmas program al over again.”

“Do they know about me?” she asked, her voice uncharacteristical y squeaky.

“Yeah, they know. Mom’s a great ear when I’m bummed out. And believe me, that entire month I didn’t see you after Des Moines qualified.”

“What did you tel her?” When he opened his mouth to speak, she covered it with her hand. “Wait. I don’t want to know.”

She squirmed over his body and dropped out of the bunk. He caught her arm. “Where are you going?”

“I need a drink.” She turned and found Eric, Sed, and Jace staring at her from the spotlessly clean living area where they sat watching TV. She instinctively tugged her baby dol nightgown down her thighs to make sure everything was covered and went directly to the refrigerator. Unfortunately, what she wanted was on the other bus.

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“Why isn’t there any alcohol on this bus?” she yel ed and slammed the refrigerator door. The guys on the sofa laughed at her dilemma.

“I don’t know, Myr,” Sed cal ed. “Why is that?”

Eric climbed to his feet, swaying slightly as the bus decelerated and then sped back up. He stopped next to her, reached into his leather vest and withdrew a silver flask. “Tequila?” He opened the flask and extended it toward her. The fumes made her eyes cross.

“You mean To-Kil -Ya?” She snatched the flask out of his hand and took a long drink. She sputtered and coughed, her eyes watering, stomach protesting. She handed the flask back to him, shaking her head with her eyes closed. “That is some nasty stuff.”

“The drunker you get, the better it tastes.” He took a swig and recapped it.

Brian appeared at her elbow. “You’re drinking?”

“So?”

“I real y don’t get why meeting my parents is such a big deal.”

“Brian’s mom is a total MILF,” Eric said. “And his dad is a living legend. Brian’s parents are way cool.”

“I’m sure they are, but meeting his parents would suggest Brian and I are pretty serious.”

“Yeah, so?” Eric said.

“So that gives the wrong message. Brian and I are—”

“Just having a good time,” Brian finished her sentence.

“Exactly,” she said. “Thank you.”

“If you don’t like parents, you can ‘just have a good time’ with me,” Eric said. “I don’t have any parents.”

“You don’t?”

He shook his head. “I’m a product of the fine state of California’s foster care program.”

She gave Eric a warm hug. He tugged her closer, his jaw resting against her hair. “I love sympathy hugs,” he murmured, and then his hands slid over her satin nightgown from her lower back to her ass.

She elbowed her way out of his grip. “Is it possible for you not to cop a feel when I’m within reach?”

“I take opportunities when they present themselves.”

She glanced at Brian, who was scowling at her.

“Don’t get mad at me,” she said, “that was him.”

“Why do you get to cal al the shots in this relationship?” he asked.

“Huh?”

“Because you’re pu**y-whipped.” Eric retreated to the living area before Brian took out his frustration on him.

“I’m always the one compromising what I want,” Brian said, his voice raised in anger.

“I compromise.”

“That’s bul ****, Myrna. Name one thing you’ve done that you didn’t want to do. One compromise you made because I asked you.”

“I’m always putting off work I need to do for you.”

“I don’t ask you to.”

“Yes, you do. Al the time. As soon as I start working, you show up wanting ***.”

“You can say no. I don’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“And how would you react if I said no?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve never had to deal with that situation.”

Myrna was stunned speechless. Was he insinuating what she thought he was?

“That’s because Myrna is dick-whipped.” Eric hid behind a sofa pil ow.

“Wel , what compromises have you made?” Myrna countered, unable to argue his logic. She didn’t ever say no to him. She didn’t want to.

“This entire relationship is a compromise for me.”

Sed increased the volume of the TV.

Brian talked louder. “I want to tel you how I feel. I want this to be serious. I want to introduce you to my parents. I want this to be permanent and about more than ***. I know this is hard for you, but it’s hard for me, too. Don’t you get that? I’m not sure how much more of this I can take.”

“Then don’t take it,” she said. “Walk away.” She flicked her hands at him as if showing him the door. She never expected him to turn his back and close himself in the bedroom. Her first instinct was to chase after him. That’s what she wanted to do, but she knew she couldn’t do that. She had to stick to her guns or things would get serious between them and she didn’t want that. Right? No, that would be horrible. Then he’d start with the stupid marriage proposals again.

“You real y blew it this time, Myr,” Eric cal ed over the blaring TV.

“Shut up, Eric.” She stood there indecisively for a moment, wondering why she felt like crying. If this “thing” didn’t work out between her and Brian, it was for the best. Right? Yeah, for the best.

She dashed a tear from the corner of her eye and settled into the booth around the dining table. She sat on the opposite side she usual y did, with her back to the living area and facing the bedroom. She didn’t want the distraction of the guys watching TV while she entered her stupid data into her stupid spreadsheet. At least, that’s what she told herself as she booted up her stupid computer with one eye on the bedroom door.

Chapter 27

Around three in the morning, Brian stumbled out of the bedroom in search of the bathroom. He hadn’t been asleep long. His brain wouldn’t shut up long enough for him to drift off, and then Trey kept cuddling up against him, which made for unpleasant sleeping arrangements. He paused in the doorway. Myrna had fal en asleep at her computer, her head resting on a stack of questionnaires. The others on the bus had retired to their bunks. He didn’t know why he should care if she was uncomfortable sleeping on her everimportant work. She obviously didn’t give a **** about him or his feelings. She hadn’t even tried to make up with him after their argument. He had to come to terms with the fact that she only wanted him for one thing. And he didn’t think he could settle for that any more.

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After he finished in the bathroom, he headed back for bed. His conscience getting the better of him, he went to the booth and drew Myrna towards him. He’d just toss her in the empty bunk so she didn’t wake up with a huge crick in her neck.

“No,” she groaned, stil asleep. “Gotta get this data entered so I can stay with Brian in L.A.”

He smiled and kissed her temple. Yeah, she obviously didn’t care about him at al . He just had to be patient with her. It was just so hard to have everything he wanted pressed against him but not be able to claim her as his forever. He lifted Myrna and carried her past the empty bunk and into the bedroom. He laid her on the bed next to Trey and climbed in on her other side.

“Slumber party,” Trey murmured and snuggled up against Myrna. Mr. Cuddles was a total bed hog. But was it real y necessary for him to massage Myrna’s breast like that? Brian thought not. He grabbed Trey’s finger and bent it back until he cried out in pain. Myrna scowled in her sleep.

“Hands off, Mil s.”

Trey sighed heavily and rol ed onto his other side. “Party pooper.”

Chapter 28

Myrna opened her eyes and blinked in the bright morning sunshine. When her eyes adjusted to the light, she found Brian sleeping beside her. She wasn’t sure how she ended up in bed with him, but she was grateful to find him so close. It made it easier to apologize. She should have done it last night.

She lifted her hand to touch his face.

His eyes fluttered open and he smiled. “Good morning, beautiful.”

“Oh Brian,” she murmured, her eyes strangely watery. “I’m sorry about last night. And I’m sorry I’m not more available for you. You’re always so good to me and I just can’t bring myself to…” She shook her head. “But I do want to compromise. So if you stil want me to stay with you in L.A., I promise to hang around a couple of days and do anything you want before I go home to get caught up on work. How does that sound?”

He kissed her nose and smiled. “Like a compromise.”

“I’l try to be better about finding middle ground.”

“And I’l try to be more patient.”

“That biblical Job guy ain’t got nothing on you, sweetie.” She stroked his hair from his cheek. “I don’t know how you put up with me.”

“I think you do,” he said, “but I’ve been forbidden to say it.”

Her heart thrummed in her chest and she covered his lips with her fingertips before he let that blasted l-word slip. A hard, warm body plastered itself to Myrna’s back. She stiffened and held her breath. They weren’t alone? Within seconds, the man had splayed his hand over her bel y, intertwined his bare legs with hers and buried his face in her neck. Brian chuckled. “Mr. Cuddles strikes again.”

“Soft,” Trey murmured in her ear. He snuggled closer.

Just Trey. She emitted her held breath and relaxed. Trey snuggled closer stil .

“Don’t let him smother you,” Brian advised.

“I don’t think I can move.”

“Shhhh,” Trey murmured, his nose pressed behind her ear. “Sleeping.”

Brian chuckled and shook his head. “You might as wel go back to sleep. He won’t move for a while.”

Myrna wasn’t sure how anyone could be expected to sleep when sandwiched between two ***y guitarists.

Chapter 29

Why was she so nervous? They were just parents. Yes, one of them was Malcolm O’Neil, but that shouldn’t make her tummy flutter or her palms sweat.

“Are you okay?” Brian asked.

“Fine,” she squeaked.

“Don’t be nervous. They’l love you.”

The mood backstage was more sedate than usual, with scarcely a scantily clad woman to be found. Brian opened the dressing room door and ushered Myrna inside. The instant Brian stepped into the room, a stunning woman grabbed him in a crushing hug and kissed him square on the mouth.

“Excuse me,” Myrna said crossly.

“Mom,” Brian gasped. “Can’t breathe.”

“I don’t see you for two months and you greet me with ‘can’t breathe’?”

He gave his mom a hug that lifted her feet off the ground. She laughed.

“Put your mother down,” a deep voice said behind Myrna.

She turned and looked up at Malcolm O’Neil. Her heart did a somersault in her chest. She’d been afraid of this. She gaped up at him like a fish out of water—her throat trying to produce sounds, her mouth opening and closing sporadical y. Brian’s arm slid around Myrna’s shoulders reassuringly.

“Wel , this is her,” Brian said. “This is Myrna.”

“She looks normal,” Malcolm said suspiciously. He looked normal, too, which surprised Myrna for some reason. Shouldn’t rock legends glow with greatness?

“Don’t mind him,” Brian’s mom said. “He’s forgotten his manners. I’m Claire Sinclair. Yes, you can laugh. I didn’t realize how stupid my name would be when I agreed to marry Malcolm. I had no idea his last name wasn’t O’Neil until I saw his real name on the marriage license.”

“You never asked,” Malcolm said.

Myrna didn’t dare laugh at Claire’s name. The woman intimidated the hel out of her. She had supermodel looks and a star quality that threw Midwestern-farm-girl Myrna for a loop. Claire had to be close to fifty and she looked spectacular. Not a single wrinkle marred her perfect skin, nor was there a gray hair to be found in her silky, brown hair. If Myrna had met her on the street, she’d have thought her thirty-five. Tops. It seemed biological y impossible for her to be Brian’s mother. He had her high, sculpted cheekbones, but they looked more like siblings than mother and son.

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“Are you adopted?” Myrna sputtered at Brian.

His eyebrows drew together. “Huh?”

“I don’t mean that as an insult.” Yeah, great thing to say the first time you meet your boyfriend’s mother. “I mean, you look amazing, Mrs. Sinclair. It seems impossible that you’d have a twenty-eight year-old son.”

Mrs. Sinclair beamed. “You’re a dear for saying so.” She took Myrna’s elbow and drew her away from her husband and son.

“Please, cal me Claire. Now, tel me al about yourself. Brian says you’re a doctor.”

“Wel , not a physician. A professor.”

“Yes, he told me as much, but he won’t tel me what your degree is in. I’m dying to know.”

What little respect she’d garnered by being a doctor was about to be thrown to the wayside. “I… er… wel … the thing is…”

Brian appeared at her elbow. “I’ve got to go get ready for the show. Sorry to abandon you. I’l take you both to a late dinner or something. Dad, too.”

Myrna used her eyes to plead with him to rescue her, but he just smiled at her, obviously pleased that she got along with his mother.

“We’l be fine, dear,” Claire said. “Break a leg or whatever I’m supposed to say to wish you luck.”

Myrna watched Brian head for the shower room, longing to fol ow him. And not because he was about to get naked.

“Wel , Myrna?” Claire continued. “Are you going to tel me? What’s your degree in?”

Eric magical y appeared at Myrna’s side. Either that or she had been too distracted to notice his approach. “She’s a certified human ***uality professor.”

Claire laughed. “Wel , that would explain Brian’s fascination with her.”

Ouch.

“So you’re like Doctor Ruth. Only younger, tal er, and more attractive,” Claire said.

“No, Doctor Ruth is a *** Psychiatrist,” Myrna clarified. “I don’t treat people for ***ual dysfunction.”

“Wel , that’s a relief,” Malcolm said behind her, his booming voice making her jump. “I thought maybe my boy had some problems he didn’t see fit to share.”

“No, no problems.” Myrna’s face flamed.

“And trust her, she would know,” Eric said.

He laughed. Claire laughed. Malcolm laughed. But Myrna didn’t laugh. She was too busy looking for a rock to crawl under.

“Doctor Myrna’s on tour with us because she’s studying the ***ual behavior of our groupies,” Eric added. Claire stopped laughing. “Ugh,” she said. “Groupies. How do you stand them?” She wrapped an arm around her husband’s waist and looked up at him. “I hated your groupies.”

“They hated you, too,” he said and kissed her passionately. She clung to him as if he’d stolen her senses. If he kissed anything like his son did, Myrna was certain Claire had completely lost her senses. Myrna’s face flamed even hotter at her errant thoughts. These were Brian’s parents. His parents.

Mind out of the gutter, Myrna.

When Claire and Malcolm drew apart, Malcolm looked down at Myrna. It was strange to look up at an older, not quite as gorgeous, version of her boyfriend. “So what have you learned about Brian’s groupies?”

“They’re al madly in love with his stage persona,” she said.

“But you’re madly in love with the real person,” Malcolm said. Myrna felt the blood drain from her face. “That’s why I married Claire. She knew the real me and loved me anyway.”

Claire grinned up at him mischievously. “What makes you so sure?”

“Excuse me,” Myrna said. “I need to… erm… use the restroom.”

She fled to the shower room, not realizing how it must look until she’d already entered and found herself in the company of not only naked-Brian, but also naked-Sed and naked-Trey. She caught a glimpse of three very nice, very white asses before she diverted her gaze and scanned the room for a bathroom stal . Urinal? No can do.

“Don’t mind me,” she said, locating a stal in the corner. She let herself in and locked the door behind her. She stood there trying to col ect her scattered wits. What exactly had Brian told his parents about her? Madly in love? She’d never been madly in love with anyone.

“You okay in there?” Brian asked from the other side of the stal door.

“Did you tel your father I was madly in love with you?”

“Uh… No, of course not.”

“Don’t lie to me, Brian Sinclair.” She opened the stal door. He stood there in his towel, water clinging to his skin, looking as irresistible as ever. Madly in lust. Yeah, she’d admit to that.

“I’m not lying. Are you hiding?”

She laughed. It sounded false even to her own ears. “Of course I’m not hiding.”

“Trying to get a glimpse of the band naked?”

“Yeah, that’s what I was doing.”

“So, who said what?”

She could tel his patience was wearing thin. “Your father said I was madly in love with you.” She rol ed her eyes.

“Maybe he was just cal ing it like he saw it.” He put his hands on his hips, a chal enge in his eyes.

“What did you tel them?”

“I didn’t tel them anything.” He sighed, al the fight going out of him. “Because apparently there’s nothing to tel .” He turned and walked toward the dressing area.

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She lifted a hand toward his retreating back. Trey approached, one towel around his waist, another in his hands as he dried his hair. He dropped the second towel around his shoulders. Trey usual y had this devil-may-care expression on his face, so Myrna didn’t quite know what do when confronted by this serious version of party boy.

“I try to stay out of this because it’s none of my business,” he said, “but you need to realize a few things, Myrna. Brian won’t say anything.”

“About what?”

“About his parents.”

Her brow arched in question.

“It’s hard to understand what it’s like for Brian. To grow up in the shadow of a great and be destined for the same career. Brian has always tried to prove himself to his father, and the man scarcely validates him as a musician. I don’t think Malcolm realizes how that affects his son. Brian works his ass off to show his father he’s worthy of his approval, but it doesn’t matter. He’l always fal short in Malcolm’s eyes. And Brian’s mother?” Trey rol ed his eyes. “She’s got her plastic surgeon on f**kin’ speed dial. I know because my father handles her wrinkle catastrophes. Al she cares about is herself and how great she looks.”

Myrna shook her head. “She obviously loves her son.”

“Yeah, now that he’s famous. She completely ignored Brian as a kid. She was too concerned about Kara’s blossoming beauty. Do you know who Kara is? Brian’s little sister.”

“Brian told me she died.”

Trey nodded, a deep sadness in his eyes. “When Kara died, Claire’s competition for best-looking in the family was gone. I think she was relieved that her daughter would never surpass her in the modeling world. And Malcolm is the same way with Brian. It’s strange to watch. And it eats Brian alive. He always makes excuses for the man.”

“Aren’t parents happy when their children are more successful than they are?”

“These aren’t normal parents, Myrna. We’re talking about a pair of highly successful people beyond their prime. Now the reason I’m even bringing up Brian’s family baggage, at risk of a serious ass whippin’, is because Brian saw fit to introduce you to his parents. That’s a big deal for him, you know. He’s never opened a relationship to criticism from them. He identified you as being worthy of their approval. Approval even he can’t seem to obtain.”

“You mean he’s never introduced a romantic interest to his parents before?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Wel , why didn’t you just say that?”

“Because if I cal ed you his ‘romantic interest,’” he said, using finger quotes, “you’d probably go hide in the bathroom again.”

“I wasn’t hiding.”

“Yeah, uh-huh, okay. Myrna, you real y shouldn’t blow this thing with Brian. There wil come a time when that fortified wal of yours wil turn him away. I mean a guy can only take so much abuse.”

She scowled at him.

“Lucky for you, he’s a glutton for punishment.” Trey grinned. He paused and ran a finger along one eyebrow. “And he doesn’t like guys.”

Myrna’s eyes widened. Was Trey implying what she thought he was implying?

Trey laughed. “I’m kidding, Myrna.”

“Trey, you better get dressed,” Sed said. He leaned against the stal partition next to Myrna.

“If you tolerated his parents tonight, it would mean a lot to him, Myrna,” Trey said. Myrna nodded. She’d pretend to be Brian’s doting girlfriend for his parents’ sake, but he’d owe her one. Trey winked at her and headed for the dressing area.

“What were you two discussing?” Sed asked. “Looked serious.”

“Parents.”

Sed sighed. “Mine didn’t show up. Both of them had to work.” He leaned closer to her and grinned. “So al those squats I’ve been doing have real y been paying off, huh?”

“What?”

“Don’t tel me you didn’t check out my ass when I was in the shower. You’d be lying.”

She snorted with laughter. “Yeah, Sed. I can’t stop thinking about it. Thoughts of your perfect ass wil consume my every waking moment, interrupt my dreams and send me into an insatiable lust even Brian won’t be able to satisfy.”

“I could offer my assistance.” He ran his fingers over her lapel, his eyes trained on her neckline.

“Only if you want to lose some teeth,” she said, brandishing a fist at him.

He laughed. “You know it turns me on when you play hard to get.”

“Try impossible to get.” She patted his recently shaved cheek and headed toward the locker room exit, hoping Brian’s parents wouldn’t notice that she’d just spent twenty minutes in the locker room with their son and two other guys. She found Claire laughing hysterical y with Eric. Claire wiped tears from the corner of her eye and gave Eric a heartfelt squeeze.

“I’m going to adopt you one of these days.”

“If you adopt me, I can’t marry you,” he said, grinning ear to ear.

“Hey, wait until I’m dead before you start hitting on her,” Malcolm said, drawing his wife away from Eric and against his side. Claire started when she noticed Myrna standing at her elbow. “Oh, you’re back,” she said. “So, how did you meet my son?”

Myrna wondered if Brian had already told her. She knew better than to get caught in a lie, but if Brian had already lied about it, then he’d be the one who looked bad. She smiled, deciding to be as vague as possible.

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“I met him in a hotel lounge. I was at a conference for work and he…” Why had the band been in the hotel that night instead of staying on the tour bus?

“…was staying in the hotel suite the concert venue provided free of charge,” Eric supplied. “Nothing better than a long bath after being on the road for a month.”

At Eric’s mention of the hotel bath, Myrna’s lungs stopped functioning.

Claire giggled.

“I hear you,” Malcolm said.

Myrna decided it would be better if she asked the questions. “So I assume the two of you have seen Sinners in concert before. They put on a fantastic live show, don’t they? The best.”

Eric beamed at Myrna’s compliment and shifted from Claire’s to Myrna’s side. Myrna hoped he didn’t start with the perpetual fondling. She glanced up at him and found him behaving himself for a change. Claire didn’t look too pleased to have lost Eric’s undivided attention. Trey obviously understood this woman quite wel . Myrna made a note to never look more attractive than Brian’s mother while in her presence.

“We’ve seen them quite a few times,” Malcolm said. “They sound a hel of a lot better than they did when they were making noise out in the garage as teenagers.”

Claire giggled again and patted her husband’s chest. “They were awful, weren’t they?”

“And now they’re one of the most popular and talented bands out there,” Myrna said, stil smiling. Eric touched the smal of Myrna’s back, as if trying to protect her from impending doom.

“Just because you’re popular doesn’t mean you’re talented,” Malcolm said, scowling. If Myrna had a cotton swab, she would have cleaned out her ears. He didn’t real y just say that, did he? Eric’s fingers gripped the back of her jacket. Was he trying to keep her from jumping Brian’s father and kicking the **** out of him? Probably a good move on Eric’s part.

“They just don’t make music like they used to,” Malcolm added.

“Thank God,” Myrna grumbled.

“I mean Sed doesn’t even sing,” Malcolm said. “He just screams and growls.”

Eric’s fingers gripped Myrna’s jacket even tighter.

“And Brian solos constantly,” Malcolm continued, the furrow in his brow deepening. “He wouldn’t know a good riff if it bit him in the ass.”

“Malcolm…” Claire said in warning, but she was grinning to herself in agreement.

“And why in the hel do you need three bass drums, Sticks?” Malcolm asked. “You only have two feet. And fourteen cymbals? I mean real y. What’s the point?”

“Different sounds,” Eric said quietly.

“You’re a f**kin’ drummer. Your job is to keep the beat, not make different sounds.”

“Eric is the best drummer in the business,” Myrna said, her blood pressure sky high. “Sed has a beautiful voice and Brian’s solos are amazing!”

“Yeah, wel , it sounds like a bunch of noise. It ain’t music.”

“What the hel do you know, you washed-up has-been?” Myrna sputtered. “Why don’t you step off your self-erected pedestal and offer your son some support? You don’t want him *****cceed, do you? He thinks you want him to appreciate his success, but in reality, you didn’t want him *****rpass you. Too late, O’Neil. He already has.”

“Did you just cal me a ‘has-been’?” Malcolm asked.

She doubted he’d heard anything else she’d said. The important stuff about his son had apparently bounced off his overly large ego. Frustrated to the limits of her tolerance, she shoved Eric away and spun on her heel. Sed, who was standing directly behind her, caught her by the shoulders to steady her. And beside Sed stood Trey and… Brian.

****!

From Brian’s stunned expression, she gathered he’d overheard her tirade.

“I’m sorry.” She ducked her head so she didn’t have to see his face. What was she thinking? Cal ing a rock legend—Brian’s father—a washed-up has-been. To his face. She wouldn’t take it back though. She’d meant every word. “We’l talk later, Brian. I’l go wait on the bus.” Maybe she could think of the right thing to say in the interim. She was at a complete loss at the moment.

“Why?” Brian asked.

“You heard what she cal ed me,” Malcolm bel owed.

“I also heard what you said.” Emotion made Brian’s voice waver, but Myrna stil couldn’t garner the courage to look at him. “If you don’t want to be here, you should leave.”

Malcolm grunted.

“Is it that hard for you to be proud of him?” Trey asked.

“Trey, stay out of this,” Brian said. “He doesn’t have *****pport everything I do.”

“But he should,” Myrna murmured. She wondered how it was possible to produce words with her entire foot in her mouth.

“You don’t want to watch the show either?” Brian asked Myrna.

“Of course I want to watch the show.”

“I never said I didn’t want to be here,” Malcolm added.

“It’s settled then. Everyone has *****ffer through my solos for the next hour.”

Myrna reached for Brian’s hand, but he threw her off and stalked out of the dressing room. Before she could start after him, Trey caught her arm. “Thanks for saying something,” he whispered. “He’d have kicked my ass for that.”

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“I should have kept my mouth shut.” Now she had to fix things. She didn’t want to be remembered as Brian’s crazy ex-girlfriend who’d cal ed Malcolm O’Neil a has-been.

Trey grinned. “You just showed how much you care. Brian wil be stoked when he cools down and realizes it.”

“I don’t think he’s stoked that I made an ass of myself in front of his parents.”

She glanced at Malcolm and Claire who were talking with their heads close together as they fol owed Eric out of the dressing room.

“The name-cal ing was a bit much,” Trey said.

“And who instigated the entire thing?” She jabbed Trey in the chest with her finger. “You. I wouldn’t have gone off if you hadn’t alerted me to the situation.”

“I’ve been wanting to tel off Brian’s father for years.”

Trey started after the rest of the group and Myrna fol owed, her mind racing. “How can I make this up to him?”

“Do you want my honest opinion?” Trey asked.

“No, Trey, I want you to lie to me.”

He grinned at her crookedly. “If you can get Malcolm to admit Brian is a great guitarist, I think he’l forgive you.”

“That should be easy enough. Al he has to do is listen to Brian play.”

“Good luck with that.”

“Do you think I can talk Malcolm into joining Brian on stage while he’s soloing in the middle of the show?”

“Doubtful.” Trey paused and took her by the arm, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Maybe if the band plays a tribute to Winged Faith. Malcolm’s problem is he’s stuck in the seventies. He’s an amazing musician but refuses to change, which puts him out of a job.”

“That might work. Does the band know any Winged Faith songs?”

Trey’s eyebrow arched. “Do you real y have to ask? Every band knows every Winged Faith song ever written.”

She chuckled. “True.” Problem was, she doubted that Malcolm would agree to any suggestion she made. She squared her shoulders. She just wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Trey laughed and tugged her into motion again.

She glanced up at him. “What?”

“The look of determination on your face. Papa Sinclair won’t know what hit him.” He hugged her against his side. When they entered the backstage area, Myrna and Trey went in opposite directions. She spotted Brian near the stairs behind the stage. He always had preshow jitters, but tonight he looked physical y il .

She considered going to talk to him, but figured she’d probably make things worse and he didn’t need the added anxiety right before their set. Trey, now equipped with his yel ow and black guitar, approached Brian and pounded him on the back vigorously. He leaned close and said something in Brian’s ear. Brian smiled, seeming to relax slightly, and whispered something back. Trey was so good to Brian. She loved Trey for it and was jealous of him at the same time. She didn’t quite understand that jealousy part. Trey had always been there for Brian. She should be happy that he had that kind of friend. And in a way she was. In another way, she wished she was the one who Brian depended on.

Brian’s eyes met hers across a sea of sound equipment. He sucked his top lip into his mouth and lowered his eyes to inspect his shoes. Her heart twisted and tears prickled her eyes.

He couldn’t even look at her.

Was this the end? God, she hoped not.

But even if he never forgave her, she wanted to patch things up between him and his father. She’d put her psychology degree into ful operational mode.

She continued around the stage, hurting more than she should. Why did she care if Brian no longer wanted to be with her? She never expected him to be a permanent fixture in her life, but this was too soon. She wasn’t ready to give him up. Their three months weren’t over. She stil had six more weeks of data to col ect for her project.

Myrna stood next to Malcolm on the floor to the side of the stage. He had his arms crossed over his chest and a look of tried patience on his face. Myrna bit her tongue and turned her attention to the stage. A camera crew stood ready to film a live video the band would be releasing soon. They’d chosen their hometown for the video because the crowd was guaranteed to be pumped up. When the stadium lights went down, the roar of the crowd was so deafening Myrna covered her ears with both hands. Knock ’em dead, guys.

The curtain dropped and blinding white streams of fireworks fel behind the stage. The bril iant light-curtain silhouetted Brian, who stood on a platform behind and above the drum kit wailing on the intro to “Gates of Hel .” Myrna’s heart thudded with a mixture of pride and anticipation. Claire clapped excitedly. Malcolm didn’t move a muscle. The crowd erupted in chaos. Plumes of fire shot into the air on either side of the drum kit the instant the rest of the band joined Brian. The crowd screamed their approval.

Sed’s low growl started to build. Myrna didn’t see him at first, but based on their enthusiastic reaction, the fans obviously did. Then she saw what had them so excited. Sed rose from the floor, center stage, the low rumble of his voice increasing in intensity as a platform lifted him. When the platform hit flush with the stage, Sed leapt onto a raised, circular stage section that jutted out toward the crowd. Red and blue fountains of sparks shot up around him on al sides, concealing him in a circle of colorful light. As soon as the display went dark, he started singing the lyrics.