Westside Series Box Set Page 6

  I’d seen him looking at me quizzically when I’d walked back to the stoop earlier in the show, wondering why I’d gotten up. It wasn’t part of our choreographed routine, and I didn’t often deviate from the plan unless I felt it was necessary. It was a leftover mindset from the theatre training I’d had my whole life – no matter what, stay in character.

  I shrugged. “It was just something different. I didn’t feel like sitting for the whole song.”

  Dillon narrowed his eyes at me. “Are you sure that’s all it was?”

  “Yes,” I responded, knowing he could tell I wasn’t being completely honest.

  “So, it wasn’t the girl in the front row who wasn’t paying attention?”

  Dillon knew me too well, and he knew how much it bothered me when people weren’t into our shows. I took it to heart and felt like we were doing something wrong. It was why I’d gotten up. I figured changing up what we were doing would work better and she’d pay attention.

  “Okay, yeah, fine. Maybe it was because of her, but she was texting, man.”

  “So what? The seventeen thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine other people who were all paying attention kind of outweigh the one person who wasn’t into the song.”

  “She wasn’t into the whole set,” I told him, because even though she’d paid more attention after the acoustic set, she wasn’t fully engaged in what we were doing on stage. “She didn’t know any of our songs, and she spent half the show on her phone.”

  Dillon shrugged. “Who cares? She’s one person.”

  “I guess,” I said, but I cared. For some reason, I cared.

  “Let it go,” Dillon said with a shrug. “There are drinks to be had and post-show fun to engage in. This is it for a while. Let’s live it up.”

  I ran my hand through my hair, forgetting it was coifed and sprayed all to hell for the show. I wanted to grab a shower and rinse the goop out. I figured I could also clear my head. Dillon was right. We needed to celebrate. It had been a great year, and although it was ending, it wasn’t over for good. We’d be back at the craziness soon enough.

  “Yeah, okay. Fine.”

  Dillon threw his arm around my neck. “That’s my boy.”

  We parted ways at our dressing rooms that were next door to each other, and I told him I’d see him back at the hotel. Then I took an extra-long shower, letting the hot water roll over my bare shoulders as the tension I was suddenly feeling left me.

  It had been like this for a few years whenever we ended a tour or an album or were coming up on an extended break. I felt this anxiety about what I was supposed to do with too much free time, always afraid boredom would set in.

  Van had invited me to come out to Reno for a few weeks to chill with him. He had a pretty sweet house at the base of a mountain, but I wasn’t really into it. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do. I just knew I’d be antsy until I figured it out.

  With still damp hair and fresh clothes, I emerged from my dressing room with plans to head out to the SUV that would take me back to the hotel. Van and Phillip were already there, having left right after the show, and they’d texted pictures of the alcohol that would be available to me when I joined them, along with some of Nadia’s model friends who’d I’d met before. Van said he was going to sleep with Gabriella. He’d had his eye on her for months and would probably end up closing the deal before we left New York.

  As I ambled toward the back door of the arena, I said hi to our roadies who were packing up the set for the last time. It was a bittersweet moment since I’d seen the same scene unfold countless times. It was hard to believe it was the last time. Our next tour would be completely different, and our tour design team was still in the final stages of figuring out what the concept would be. We’d seen potential images of it, and it looked like a cool idea, but the melancholy feeling I’d been plagued with for the past few days was fueled as I saw the fake steps being carried past me. I liked those steps.

  “Sorry, but you can’t come back here.”

  I looked up when I heard Bruce, one of our security guys, talking to someone who was standing at one of the doors that led to the arena. It seemed a fan was trying to get backstage, which wasn’t surprising. That happened a lot.

  “Please. I need my phone,” I heard a girl say and chuckled to myself, thinking her effort was sweet. “I lost it during the meet and greet.”

  It wasn’t a new trick to get backstage. I’d heard of girls trying the same thing, giving a sob story about how they’d lost their cell phone just to get backstage. Normally I just kept walking, leaving the security guys to handle the situation, but that night I was feeling sentimental and charitable. I figured I’d go say hi. It would avoid any additional begging that might ensue when Bruce told the girl that she couldn’t come backstage and that she could call lost and found the next day to see if her phone had been turned in. I could imagine her face falling as she realized she wasn’t going to get backstage, and I figured I’d do what I could do to avoid that happening.

  I knew I might not be the guy from Westside she was interested in seeing. As ‘the goofy one’ I didn’t have as many girls lusting after me as the other guys, but when they were desperate, our fans didn’t discriminate. The girl probably wanted to see Van, ‘the sexy, brooding, bad boy’, or Dillon, ‘the sensitive, sweet, angelic one’, but I’d do in a pinch.

  “You can’t come back here,” Bruce repeated to the girl as I sidled up behind his bulking frame that blocked me from seeing anything beyond him. The dude was huge.

  I tapped him on the shoulder, and he turned to look back at me. “What’s up, Cam?”

  “Is that Camden?!” I heard the girl say around a gasp.

  Okay, so maybe she was excited at the prospect that it was me, but I couldn’t tell for sure since Bruce was completely blocking her from my view.

  “You need some help?” I asked Bruce.

  He gave me a questioning look. “With keeping a couple of fans from coming back stage? No. This isn’t my first time.”

  I grinned at him. “Come on. Let me help,” I mock-begged. “I just want to say hi.”

  I heard the girl gasp.

  “You want to say hi?” Bruce questioned.

  “Step aside, Hoss,” I said, using the nickname the other security guys called him since he was pretty much the size of a large bull.

  Bruce shrugged. “She says she lost her cell phone,” he said as he stepped to the side. He wouldn’t go far, just in case the girl tried to rip my clothes from my body or manhandle me in some other way.

  As I came into view, I heard a sharp intake of breath, followed by a muffled, “Oh, my God!”

  I shifted my gaze from Bruce to the girl and her friend who were standing in the doorway. Then I blinked a few times when I noticed the brunette from the front row – the texter. And apparently she had no interest in what had her friend practically hyperventilating, since she was texting yet again.

  “Who exactly are you texting?” I asked her before I could stop myself.

  She looked up in surprise and then did a double-take before looking behind her for a few beats before shifting her gaze back to me. “Are you talking to me?”

  “Yes,” I said, as I crossed my arms over my chest.

  “Oh, my God,” her friend said from behind her hand that was still covering her mouth.

  Since the brunette was looking at me like I was either crazy or an asshole, I shifted my gaze to her friend and stuck out my hand. “Hi. I’m Camden.”

  Her eyes got wide, and she just looked at my outstretched hand.

  “Aww, come on. Don’t leave me hanging,” I told her, and she slowly removed her hand from her mouth and extended it to shake mine. “What’s your name?”

  “Tory,” she said, but it came out in a whisper.

  “Tory. Great name. Did I hear something about you losing your phone?”

  I knew for a fact that she hadn’t lost her phone. I had an excellent memory for details, and I specifically remembered her
recording me when I’d stepped to the edge of the stage during the show. She was lying, but I wasn’t about to call her out on it.

  Tory nodded. “At the meet and greet.”

  I looked up at Bruce. “Didn’t they tear down the tent already?”

  “Yes,” he said gruffly.

  “And did they find a phone?”

  “Of course not,” he said, clearly annoyed that I was humoring these girls. He knew a lie when he heard one.

  I nodded. “Right. Good to know.” I turned back to Tory. “We didn’t find a phone. Sorry.”

  “Oh,” she said, her face falling. “Are you sure? I mean, maybe someone found it, like Van, and he has it.”

  I grinned at her. “You want to meet Van? Is that why you’re back here?”

  I watched her cheeks color as she nodded infinitesimally.

  “Sorry, but he already went back to the hotel,” I told her.

  “Oh,” she said, looking crestfallen.

  “What hotel?” her friend asked me.

  I looked over at her in surprise. “Why? Do you want to meet him too?” I asked with more snark than I’d intended.

  “No,” she said, as if the idea repulsed her.

  “Good, because I’m not telling you where we’re staying.”

  “I wasn’t asking,” she snapped back.

  Geez, I hadn’t had a girl treat me like this in years. Usually they gushed. This girl definitely wasn’t gushing. I was sort of entranced by her indifference.

  “Actually, you did ask,” I reminded her.

  She shrugged. “Just because I wanted to see if you’d tell us. I wasn’t actually going to follow you there or anything. I was considering it an experiment.”

  “Well that’s good, because I wasn’t going to tell you.”

  “I know. You already said that,” she said, sounding bored as her phone beeped again. She looked down, smiled and responded, typing out a quick text.

  “Um, we absolutely would have gone to their hotel if he’d have told us,” her friend hissed at her.

  “No, we wouldn’t have,” she said firmly, not looking up as her fingers flew across the keyboard.

  “Who are you texting?!” I asked, my irritation coming through in my words.

  She looked up and met my gaze, looking a solid mix of surprised and annoyed. “What?”

  “I asked who you were texting,” I repeated.

  “Why do you care?”

  “Because you’ve been texting all night. What could possibly be that important? I mean, you were even texting during the show.”

  “Ah, got it. I can see now why that might upset you,” she said flatly, nodding like she understood but didn’t actually care that it bothered me.

  And she didn’t answer my question, but I forgot about that fact as I thought I caught a hint of a southern accent that I couldn’t help but find sexy. I was secretly glad that she wasn't enamored with Van like her friend was.

  I smiled at her. “Do you want to come to a party?” I asked her before I could think twice about it.

  Something about this girl had been getting to me since I’d seen her at the meet and greet. Then she kept popping up. I knew if I walked away I’d never see her again, and for some reason, I didn’t want to do that. I was feeling petulant, and I wanted to get to the bottom of who she was and why she didn’t seem give a shit about things that most girls cared too much about. She was an anomaly, and it had been too long since I’d met someone like her.

  “With you?!” Tory asked excitedly, interjecting herself into our conversation.

  “Sure,” I said, still looking at her friend. “What do you think? Do you want to come?”

  Tory was looking at her friend with pleading eyes as the girl seemed to contemplate what she wanted to do. I’d never had anyone vacillate like she was. The entire arena would have given their left arm to be standing in her place, and she was hesitating. Why did that intrigue me so much?

  “I’m actually kind of tired,” she told Tory, who looked like she wanted to murder her for even considering saying no. I rolled my eyes and shook my head, which the girl must have seen, because she turned to look at me. “Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

  “Yes,” I said defiantly.

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Because I don’t believe that you’re tired. It’s Saturday night, and it’s not that late. It’s a bullshit excuse.”

  “He’s right,” Tory said, causing her friend to glare at her.

  The brunette slowly turned to look at me again. “I might be tired. You don’t know me, so you have no right to judge my level of exhaustion. Maybe I have a job where I have to be up at four in the morning, or maybe I got up early this morning to volunteer at a homeless shelter.”

  There was that hint of an accent again. Damn, that was hot.

  “You don’t have that kind of job,” Tory reminded her, making me smile wider as the girl sighed in frustration. “And homeless people freak you out.”

  “Tory,” she said firmly, shaking her head in frustration that she’d been busted.

  Tory just grinned at her.

  “Just come for one drink,” I told the brunette.

  “I don’t even know you,” she said, apparently determined to exhaust every excuse she could think of. “Why would I go to some party with you?”

  The dick answer would be because I was rich and famous, but I never used that line on women. That was Phillip’s line, and I thought it was lame, although it had gotten him laid on more than one occasion. I wasn’t that much of an ass, nor was I dumb enough to think a line like that would work on a girl like her.

  “Because I’m asking nicely, and I’m not a serial killer,” I told her honestly. “And Bruce will be there, so if I do anything off-color, you can run to him. He’ll protect you. Right, Bruce?”

  “I’ll keep Cam in line,” Bruce said flatly, knowing he didn’t have to worry about me.

  I was as tame as they came. No one had to worry about me. It was Van and Phillip that caused our security team the most trouble. Dillon and I were the good ones.

  “Andi, if you don’t say yes, I will never forgive you,” Tory said suddenly, looking at her friend with pleading eyes.

  “Andi? Your name’s Andi?” I asked the brunette.

  I hadn’t realized before how much I wanted to know her name. Now that I knew it, I saw how much it completely fit her. She was tough and confident. A gender neutral name was perfect for her. I loved it.

  “Yes, it is,” she said coolly.

  “Nice to meet you, Andi,” I said, sticking my hand out. “My name’s Camden, but my friends call me Cam. I’m from Detroit, and I’m in a band. I like to surf and play my guitar in my free time, and I have a thing for Broadway shows. I also have two brothers and a sister, and my parents are divorced.”

  Andi’s eyes got a little wide as she stared at me, probably not believing half of what I’d just said, but I wasn’t one to make things up. Then she slowly took my hand in hers. She tried to shake it and let it go, but I tightened my grip.

  “Now you know a little about me. Come to the party,” I said again.

  “Andi, please. Please, please, please,” Tory begged her.

  Andi looked down at our joined hands and then back up at me, hesitating for a few seconds. Then she sighed. “Fine. We’ll go.”

  “Yes!” Tory exclaimed, her face lighting up with glee.

  Andi’s gaze never left mine. “I’ll go for one drink. Then I’m going home.”

  I smiled. “I’d never keep you anywhere you didn’t want to be against your will,” I promised her.

  “One drink,” she repeated.

  “Loud and clear. You’ll have one drink, and then Bruce will drive you home,” I agreed. “A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be taking cabs this late at night. It’s dangerous.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  I shook my head. “Nope. This is New York. It’s not the safest place in the world.”

  “
Says the guy from Detroit,” she said sarcastically.

  “Exactly. And I didn’t grow up in the nicest area. I know what can happen after dark.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she assured me.

  “Great. Glad to hear it,” I said as Tory threw her arms around Andi and practically tackled her to the ground, forcibly pulling her hand from mine. I was sad to see it go.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Tory gushed.

  “Yeah, yeah. You owe me for this,” Andi told her.

  “Completely,” Tory agreed.

  “Step inside,” I said once the girls had righted themselves. “Our ride’s out back.”

  “Your ride?” Tory questioned with wide eyes.

  “Well, I don’t have a car here, but I have a driver. He’ll take us to the hotel.”

  “Aren’t you concerned about revealing the secret location of where you’re staying?” Andi asked me sarcastically as the three of us started walking toward the exit with Bruce trailing behind us.

  “Nah,” I said flippantly. “I’ll just have to kill you after you find out, but that’s standard protocol.”

  Tory giggled. “You’re so funny,” she gushed, leaning toward me.

  I shrugged. “Always have been,” I said, and then I winked at Andi.

  “You try to kill me, and I’ll punch you in the nuts,” she promised.

  I winced. “Noted.”

  “Andi,” Tory hissed at her. “Be nice.”

  “Hey, I agreed to go to the party. I am being nice.”

  “Chris, what’s up, man?” I asked the security guard who’d been assigned to me for the past few years. He was waiting by the exit to ride back to the hotel with me, since he pretty much trailed me wherever I went. Because of that he was one of my best friends.

  He was just a few years older than me, but he’d been in the Marines and was a bad ass. When I was bored, we sparred together. It kept my fighting mind sharp so I didn’t forget my training. Who knew when I might need to use it.

  “Hey Cam,” Chris said. “You ready to go?”

  “With bells on,” I told him. “And two lovely ladies who will be joining us.”