Musician's Monsoon Page 5

  * * * *

  Zane and Sophie had migrated to the backseat. It was spacious, and there was a lot more leg room. The front seat was cramped, and―well, making out was awkward.

  Zane felt like he was seventeen all over again, sitting in the backseat of a car, kissing a girl. It reminded him of a much more innocent and promising time in his life, when music was all he’d known and all he’d wanted. When celebrity status and red tape and the business end of it had never entered into his mind. He’d been full of optimism and dreams. And he’d somehow gotten lucky enough to receive everything he’d ever hoped for. He’d never imagined it would leave him feeling wanting. What did a person do when he became disillusioned with life?

  Sophie sighed softly and snuggled against his shoulder. He glanced down at where she was resting. He had his legs stretched out across the seat, watching the lightning flicker farther and farther away, and she had curled up on his lap, against his chest. At some point, she’d dozed off. He didn’t have the heart to wake her, and truth be told, he was reluctant to make the drive back to Phoenix.

  The band had to leave tomorrow night. They had two shows in Southern California. One in San Diego and the other in Anaheim. He dreaded them, and that troubled him. He had never actually dreaded doing what he loved before. The fact that he was feeling that way now was disheartening and upsetting.

  Was it as Sophie had said? Everything around him that made up the rock-star lifestyle had become too much? Did he crave the simplicity of a time when it had just been music and nothing else? Or was it something much more than that?

  His heart told him the answer to that question as Sophie shifted slightly against him, nestling closer. His arms tightened around her, and he closed his eyes with a sigh. Maybe he was partly craving the simplicity of the past, but he also craved this. Companionship. Closeness. He was surrounded every day of his life by people, but he still felt empty. His music had sustained him thus far, had filled that hole inside of him, but now it seemed that it was no longer cutting it. He wanted something more than days full of travel and nights full of partying.

  He wanted something real. Something solid and substantial in a world full of glitter and sparkle.

  No wonder Sophie had intrigued him so much. She’d stood out in the crowd because she’d been different. She’d been subdued. It had been like a breath of fresh air. She loved his music, appreciated his talent, but was well grounded in the real world.

  Her cousin had attacked him. She had attacked him―twice. But seeing her, talking with her, being with her, made him feel like he’d been on a whirling merry-go-round full of colors and sounds, and he was finally able to slow to a stop. He could take a full breath. He could think. He could hear his music. He hadn’t felt anything even close to that since Shadows Rising had released their last album, and that had been three years ago.

  His heart ached at the knowledge that he would have to say goodbye to her tomorrow. In a perfect world, he would ask her to go with him. She was so down to earth, so reality based, and he needed that so much in his world of fantasy and glamour.

  He allowed himself to imagine what it might be like to have a normal relationship, a normal life. He had always wanted to be a musician. He had no desire to do anything else. It was his passion and his driving force. But instead of going home to an empty condo at the end of a tour, what might it be like to get off the plane, leave Zane Blake, keyboardist and composer of Shadows Rising, behind―hang him in the coat closet, so to speak―and just be Zane? Have someone come around the corner and greet him with a warm embrace and a passionate kiss?

  Or better yet, what if he could take that persona off every night? Walk off the stage and into the arms of someone who made the world stop, like Sophie did? Someone who would talk with him at night, share quality conversation, instead of booze-induced psychobabble. Someone who desired him, the man, and didn’t only want his music, or his stage presence, or his blond hair blowing on a magazine cover.

  He suddenly desired those things more than almost anything when they had never occurred to him before. Maybe he was getting old. Or maybe he was just getting tired. Tired of the endless party, the merry-go-round that never stopped.

  He knew it would start up again once he was forced to say goodbye to Sophie. It was inevitable, and he despised it.

  Chapter Five

  The obnoxious blaring of a phone tore Sophie from her sleep and she instantly felt disoriented. She was hot and sticky like she had been sleeping in a sauna all night, and she had a horrible crick in her neck. Not to mention her back muscles felt like they may never function again.

  Her bed moved. That was weird. She sat up, her back screaming in protest, and she blinked her eyes open in confusion. It took her a second to realize she was in the backseat of Lorraine’s car, and she glanced over to see Zane Blake sitting next to her, looking just as confused and disheveled.

  She had a small holy crap! moment before the previous night rushed back to her, along with a flush to her cheeks as she recalled him kissing her breathless and falling asleep in his arms.

  “Oh my gosh,” Zane grumbled as he ran his hand through his hair and tried to blink the sleep out of his eyes. “I have the worst case of taco neck ever.”

  “Taco neck?”

  He glanced over at her. “Yeah, you know, where your neck is bent in half like a taco shell?” He rubbed at the side of his neck and groaned.

  Sophie giggled. “At least it’s not the same side I karate chopped.”

  He snorted. “Right, lucky me. Now the whole thing hurts equally.” He smirked at Sophie and a sexy, soft light sparkled in his eyes. He leaned over and took her hand in his. “I like waking up to you.” He smoothed some of her hair, which was undoubtedly a disaster, and kissed her gently on the lips.

  Sophie’s head swam and her heart did dip-and-dive moves. She didn’t want to admit it out loud, but she really enjoyed waking up to him, too.

  His phone started blaring again, and he scowled. He pulled back to fish around in his pocket and dug it out. “What?” he barked into it. Sophie watched as his expression changed from annoyance to shock. “Wait, Rhonda, slow down. I can’t understand anything you just said… I’m fine. I’m with a girl.” He glanced over at Sophie and she could have sworn she saw his cheeks turn pink. Then, his eyes bulged. “She what? Why?”

  Sophie arched her eyebrows and waited while he spoke frantically with his band mate for a second before ending the call and staring straight in front of him like he had been kicked in the head. Finally, he expelled a forceful breath and raked his fingers through his hair.

  “Kate just quit the band,” he stated.

  Sophie jolted. “What?” she exclaimed.

  He looked over at her and shook his head slowly. “She was acting all weird last night after the show. Irritable and agitated. Apparently, she found out she’s pregnant, and she just up and quit last night. Said she didn’t want to raise a child on the road.” The shocked look in his eyes slowly started to transform into panic. “I have no idea what we’re going to do. She’s left us in a lurch. Badly. We have a show tomorrow. Why couldn’t she wait until the tour was over? It’s not like she’s going to deliver tomorrow.”

  Sophie climbed over the seat to the front and buckled in. She rolled down the window, since it was stifling hot in the car, and turned the key in the ignition. “Which hotel are you staying at? I’ll take you back.”

  He climbed over the seat as well and plopped into the passenger seat with absolutely no grace whatsoever. “We’re at the Four Seasons Resort in Scottsdale.”

  Sophie rifled around in her purse until she found her cell phone, then tossed it into Zane’s lap. “Do me a favor. Text message Lorraine and tell her I’ll come and pick her up later.” She guided the car back out onto the road, relishing the feeling of the desert air blowing in her face and cooling her down. The monsoon season made everything humid and unbearable. Sleeping cuddled up on a person all night long with the windows rolled up had made her
feel like her clothes were stuck to her skin. Not that she minded, really. It wasn’t as if sleeping next to Zane had been a trial.

  She sighed and rested her elbow on the window and her head in her hand while she steered with the other. This was a sucky way to have to say goodbye to Zane, but what did she expect? This was his life, his job. It wasn’t like he could stay in the car and neck with her forever, as appealing as that option was to her.

  She’d had her one night of adventure, and she’d gotten a wonderful memory out of it―much more than someone like she ever would have imagined for herself. She would be happy with that. He would go on to dazzle crowds every night, and she would go on to teach bored high schoolers. Their paths had crossed for a brief time, and they had both offered the other something important. That was all it could ever be, and she knew that.

  But it still sucked.

  * * * *

  Rhonda was a disaster. It was obvious she had been crying most of the night, and her eyeliner had run tracks down her cheeks. She looked like a bad version of Gene Simmons in his KISS makeup.

  The other band members looked just as haggard and shell-shocked. Sophie felt awkward standing there as Rhonda continued to scream in hysteria. This wasn’t her business in any way, shape or form, but Zane refused to let go of her hand. He’d had it in a death grip ever since they’d gotten to the hotel. She’d tried to drop him off, but he’d had none of that. Told her that there was no way he was going to just wave goodbye like she’d been a chauffeur.

  She’d tried to leave a couple of times, feeling out of place and like she was intruding, but every time she even remotely tugged her hand in a direction away from him, he shot her a warning glower that let her know he meant business. She didn’t know why he was so adamant about her continued presence, but despite the uncomfortable situation, the fact that he wanted her there warmed her.

  “I don’t know what we’re going to do,” Rhonda continued to wail. “We’re gonna have to cancel the tour! This is horrible!”

  “We can’t cancel the tour!” Billy exclaimed. “We have, like, six sold-out shows! First Zane loses him mind, and now this!”

  “Thanks,” Zane grumbled. “She seriously just bailed? She wouldn’t even talk to you guys about it?”

  Rhonda shook her head. “She just made an announcement that she was quitting. We tried to talk her into staying for the rest of the tour, but she said that it would be too much stress. She wanted to go home and be with her husband and…become a housewife or something. Who knows? All I know is that she screwed us big time.”

  “We need a new bass player, stat!” Matt interjected.

  There was a small pause in the conversation before Sophie felt Zane’s fingers tighten on hers ever so slightly. She had just enough time to feel impending doom before he turned to her―with this crazed look in his eyes―and shouted, “Wait! Sophie plays bass!”

  Her heart crashed against her ribcage. “What?” she screeched. She tried to yank her hand out of his grasp, but he held on tighter. “Are you out of your mind?”

  “You said you knew all of our songs!”

  All the band members’ eyes riveted on her, and she wanted to turn and run as fast as she possibly could away from this bizarre situation. “So, what is that supposed to mean? Get a guitar tech to stand in! That’s his job!”

  Zane glanced back at the others over his shoulder.

  “Dan has salmonella, actually,” Matt supplied. “He’s toast for at least another three days, doctor’s orders. He has to stay on the bus, close to the bathroom or a bucket.”

  “Salmonella?” Sophie cried.

  Zane turned back to her and clutched her hand with even more desperation. “Sophie, please.”

  “No way!” She finally managed to detach herself from Zane and stumbled backwards. “You are all insane! I’m a teacher!”

  “Yeah, you teach music,” Zane continued. “And you play the bass!”

  “I play the upright bass!”

  “A bass is a bass!” He fixed her with a pointed look. “And you told me that you play the bass guitar at home when no one’s looking. And you play our songs.”

  Sophie felt her cheeks burn at him announcing that information to the room. She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him, feeling slightly betrayed.

  “Please, Sophie,” he begged.

  “No freaking way, you absurd lunatic.”

  “Only a teacher would say it that way,” Billy mumbled.

  “Sophie,” Zane implored, taking a step closer to her. “Listen to me. I wouldn’t ask you if there was some other foreseeable option, but this is so last minute, and such bad timing all the way around. We only need someone for two shows. Just until Dan gets well.”

  She started to feel her chest constricting, and the veins in her forehead pounded as if they were going to explode. “You guys are musicians! You mean to tell me you don’t know anyone else who can do this? Look at me, Zane! I’m not exactly rock-star material here!”

  He frowned slightly. “Do you have stage fright? You shouldn’t. You teach music, so that must mean you’ve played in front of people.”

  She snorted. “Yeah, in a big orchestra, playing freaking Bach or something. Not a lone bass player in a metal band. I’d have the stage presence of a doorknob!”

  “Who cares if you have any stage presence?” Matt shouted suddenly. “Just stand there and pluck the strings! Stand behind the amp for all I care. Just play! Come on, lady, how many people would kill to be a rock star for a day? You’re seriously going to stand here and leave us in the lurch when we’re offering you an opportunity of a lifetime?”

  “Dude.” Zane turned to his band mate and positioned himself between Matt and Sophie. “Chill the hell out. I’m pretty sure screaming at her is not going to produce desired results. Not to mention, I don’t like it.”

  “Well excuuuuse me,” Matt mocked. “Didn’t mean to offend you, Mr. High and Mighty. Forgive me if I’m a little angered over the sudden turn of events and lack of respect for all band members involved. And forgive me if I’m slightly annoyed at the fact that we have a bass player standing here acting like a wuss about something anyone else would be crapping their pants to do!”

  “Matt!” Rhonda exclaimed.

  Zane bristled and stabbed his finger at Matt. “You are so out of line right now. Keep going. I dare you.”

  “Who died and made you leader of the band all of a sudden?” Matt continued. “Last time I checked, you couldn’t even write anything anymore. What happened? You get a good lay and suddenly all your creativity comes back?”

  Zane lunged at Matt, but Rhonda shrieked and jumped in the middle. “You guys, stop it!” she cried. “What is the matter with you?”

  Sophie rolled her eyes and strode over to the squabbling men. She grabbed Zane’s arm and hauled him away from Matt, then shoved herself between them like Rhonda had done. “Oh my gosh!” she shouted. “How old are you two? Fifteen?” She turned to Zane, whose face was flushed with anger. She circled his wrist with her fingers until he looked at her. “I appreciate your defense, but I told you, I don’t need someone to fight my battles for me. I’m very adept at defending myself.” With that, she turned, faced Matt, and slapped him across the face hard enough that the crack echoed through the room.

  Rhonda gasped and covered her mouth with her hands while Matt stumbled back in surprise and shook his head, his hand flying to his cheek. When he recovered, he stared at Sophie with shock.

  “I know puberty is a rough time period, but one day, you’ll be a man. Maybe. If you’re lucky and pull your head out of your butt. Until then, do not talk about me like I’m not in the room, do not yell at me, and do not run your mouth like a testosterone-filled teenager on steroids when you have no idea what you’re talking about. I have high school boys for students who are better behaved than you, Mr. Fancy-Pants Rock Star, and I have news for you. Being a bully and acting all tough and bad may get you what you want in this world, but in the real one,
we have something called respect. And the fastest way to get me to not do what you want is to be disrespectful. So, what’s going to happen right now is, you’re going to apologize to me. Sincerely. Otherwise, you can take your dilemma and cram it where the sun doesn’t shine.”

  There was a moment of complete and utter silence where everyone in the room just stared at her. She put her hands on her hips and waited.

  Matt glanced around at all of his band mates, cleared his throat, hunched his shoulders like a chastised child, and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He looked up at Sophie and sighed. “I’m sorry. That was totally douche-baggy of me. I’m just a little stressed out. But that’s no excuse for the crap I said.”

  Sophie nodded curtly and leaned closer to him. “And for the record, if Zane had done with me what you said he did, not only would he have his creativity back, but he’d have so much music oozing out of him he’d be able to play all the instruments himself and you’d all be out of a job. So, until you see that happen, watch your mouth.”

  There was another moment of total silence, and Sophie turned to see Zane staring at her with his jaw practically on the floor. Heat flooded her face as her anger dissipated.

  He reached out to take her hand. “Here, let’s go talk in the hall for a second.” He pulled her out of the room and turned to face her when the door clicked shut. “Holy crap,” he muttered.

  She shrugged and bit her lip to stop a smile. “I told you I was good at defending myself.”

  “I guess…geez.”

  She giggled.

  He sighed and ran his hands down her shoulders. “Sophie, I know this is weird, and last minute and probably terrifying, but we really need your help. I need your help.”