Crazy Baby Page 10
The bus door closes and our caravan officially hits the road. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I’m way too happy to already find a text message from Luke.
Luke: Left yet?
Me: Just now.
Luke: Be careful. Have fun. I love you.
Me: I love you, too. Do I get to see you Valentine’s?
Luke: Not sure yet, babe. Damn, I hope so.
Me: I’ll book as soon as you tell me to. I miss you.
Luke: I miss you, too. Gotta go—I’m back in the ring.
Me: Knock ’em out for me!
Luke: Everything I do is for you.
“That must be your man,” Cami states. “That smile on your face can only be from one thing.”
Everyone ribs me about sexting with Luke already when we’re not even out of Atlanta yet. “We don’t sext,” I state emphatically.
“Damn, Andi. That’s cold to just cut him off like that,” Mike accuses me.
“We FaceTime. We’re both visual creatures. We have to see it,” I retort with a straight face.
Mike’s face turns bright red, and he struggles for a comeback. Unable to hold my laughter back any longer, I have tears running down my cheeks within seconds. Somewhere amid my laughter, I think Mike threatens me with swift retaliation. Whatever—it was so worth it to see his face.
As I look around, still highly amused at getting the best of Mike, Travis’s demeanor catches my eye. He’s leaned back in his chair, slightly slumped and obviously comfortable. His hazel eyes have darkened to green and are narrowed at me, but they’re dancing with blatant humor. One hand is at his cheek, his fingers casually propping his head up. His lips slowly curl up into a panty-dropping, sultry, sensual smile.
Damn. Did someone turn up the heat in here?
CHAPTER TEN
TRAVIS
“Are you nervous?” I ask Andi as we stand backstage at the American Airlines Arena in Miami. Our buses rolled in late last night, or actually very early this morning, and we’ve already finished the sound check.
She looks up at me, and her eyes reflect the terror she’s feeling deep inside. “Nervous? No. I’m not nervous at all. I’m fucking terrified, Travis!” she yells. “The arena is already full. They didn’t wait for you to get here like they were supposed to.”
I can’t help but chuckle at her outburst. It really is a little nerve-racking at first, but after playing everywhere I could find since I was seventeen, it doesn’t scare me now. The crowd energizes me, and I always try to give them more than they give me. They spend their hard-earned money on our songs, merchandise, and concert tickets. It’s the least I can do.
Andi, on the other hand, has only sung to audiences in a bar setting. Walking into a room with about eighteen thousand people all looking at her and waiting for her to entertain them is no less than daunting. Our concerts are selling out fast for the rest of our tour, so tonight is just the initiation process.
“You’ll do great, Andi. You’ve rehearsed this for weeks now. You know these songs inside and out. Work the audience. Get them to sing along with you on the cover songs, and you’ll have them eating out of the palm of your hand.”
“Okay. Yeah. I got this,” she says, completely lacking conviction as she walks up the steps to the stage.
She walks out and the stage lights hit her, silently announcing her arrival. A quick hush falls over the crowd before they erupt into applause, whistles, and screams. The music starts and Andi performs like a true professional. She’s on time, in tune, and interacts with the audience in all areas of the arena.
The first couple of songs are exclusively hers. I haven’t told her that I wrote them specifically for her to sing. That’s one of Katelyn’s beefs with me—these songs are all chart-topper worthy, and she thinks I should be the one singing them. My music has been the love of my life for so many years. The words are a part of me, a rare glimpse into my very private thoughts.
It felt different when I wrote these songs though. These words were clearly channeled to me through the time I’ve spent with Andi. The words convey how she makes me feel—about her, about myself, about life, and about the future. Knowing the words came from how she affects me, it only felt right to have her sing them.
It’s clear to me now that I’m not the only one who’s completely at her mercy. She’s taking full advantage of the extended stage, walking out into the arena and engaging with the people who can reach her. Walking by them as she sings, she holds her hand out and touches the outstretched hands reaching toward her.
“Who here has ever had their heart broken by a lying, cheating bastard? Or bitch, to be fair?” she asks the audience in between songs. The crowd answers with a reverberating scream.
“What goes around comes around, right? Just know that he—or she—has it coming right back!”
Then she begins her first cover song, “Lovin’, Touchin’, Squeezin’” by Journey. Her confidence level is clearly at an all-time high. She belts out the words with such emotion and conviction, every audience member feels the heartbreak she’s conveying. When she gets to the part about how the cheater gets cheated on, her voice becomes more aggressive, more taunting, and it’s all so sexy.
The crowd roars their approval at the end of the song, and she takes a minute to introduce the band and herself to the audience. Her wit and self-deprecating humor are well received, and her voice holds no hint of nervousness. This part is addictive—the energy the audience gives back, the love they project, and the roar of their applause.
“My next song is another cover song. It’s dedicated to the love of my life. This song is older than some of you in here, but I hope you love it as much as I do.”
During her second cover song, “Crazy for You” by Madonna, the audience holds up the flash on their phones’ cameras in lieu of lighters. The lights sway back and forth with the slow tempo of the iconic love song. I won’t lie—it stung when she dedicated it to “the love of her life.” My only consolation is she didn’t say his name.
After singing her last song, she smiles and waves to the audience as she exits the stage. Once she’s behind the enormous curtains that hide the entire backstage area, she rushes to me and throws her arms around my neck.
“Oh my God, Travis! That was incredible!” she exclaims giddily.
“You were great, Andi. I’m so very proud of you.”
“I was so far beyond terrified when I stepped out there, but I tried to remember your advice.” She smiles widely at me. “You know, I almost asked you to come onstage with me because I was sure I’d be a huge flop out there.”
“I’m glad you didn’t ask me,” I say truthfully.
Hurt flashes over her face, but she quickly masks it. “Why’s that?”
“Because for you I would’ve said yes, and then I’d be in trouble with the label.”
She laughs, rolls her eyes at me, and puts her hand on her hip. “Travis, you are such a flirt and a charmer.”
Apparently I need to turn up the charm factor to prepare to tell her how I feel. After that song dedication, I’m more determined than ever to make her mine.
“I have an idea for our duets tonight. Since both songs are very romantic, flirty, and charming,” I emphasize, “I think we should play it up to the audience. Sing the songs to each other in a single spotlight. What do you think?”
“I think that’s a great idea! They are really into the music tonight. They’ll go crazy over being the first to hear these unreleased songs!”
Fireflies will be playing for another hour, so I walk to the quiet rooms backstage with Andi. Cami and the girls have been on tour with us before, so they’re well versed in how to play up to the crowd. I don’t normally leave my room before a show so I can conserve my energy, but I couldn’t miss Andi’s first big performance.
“You know, we’re actually giving them three brand new songs tonight. They’ll be all over the Internet by midnight,” I say as we walk into the green room.
“The songs go liv
e on all digital media outlets at ten o’clock tonight,” Katelyn says. “The buzz from the audience will drive sales through the roof.”
“I didn’t know we were releasing so soon,” I say, pinning Katelyn with my what-the-hell look.
“The president of the label made the decision twenty minutes ago. You weren’t back here for me to tell you,” she says while throwing a sideways glare at me.
“I’m surprised you weren’t out there watching the newest talent onstage.”
“I can see her just fine from the monitors back here.” She points to the flat screen TVs that are currently muted.
“There’s nothing like seeing the show live,” I retort.
“Wow,” Andi interjects. “This is such a letdown from what I thought rock stars did backstage.” She looks around the room, her eyes stopping at each member of the band before she continues. “Where are all the groupies, drugs, and alcohol? Where are all the wild parties with naked people running amok? Has no one taught you what’s expected from real rock stars?”
The humor dances in her beautiful eyes, but she maintains a straight face. I quickly scan the other guys and have to turn around before I burst out laughing and ruin her gag. They don’t know whether to believe she’s being serious or joking. Katelyn has a disgusted look on her face and opens her mouth to belittle Andi when she catches my stare. Slightly shaking my head at her, I wordlessly warn her to keep her mouth shut.
“But,” Drew starts pensively, “Travis said no strangers on the bus. So we can’t.”
“Rock stars should also be rebels,” Andi chides him. “Do you always follow the rules?”
Drew thinks about her question for a minute before answering. “Yeah, I guess I do,” he says, the realization of his un-rock-star-like conformity hitting him.
“Andi, I’m shocked and appalled at you,” Kale chimes in. I think he’s on to her.
“Not as much as I am at you,” she replies with disapproval. “Here I thought I’d have some juicy stories to tell my grandkids about how I survived the Sound Bar’s Giving Fate a Hand Tour. I guess I’ll have to make up a few now.”
Mike, Drew, and Kale narrow their eyes at me, finally picking up on my lack of interaction in this conversation. Andi turns to look at me and starts laughing. “Sorry, guys. I couldn’t help it. I actually did wonder if that kind of stuff still happened, but it makes sense that you keep access limited.”
“The wild parties would actually be a liability to the label and to our contract. Plus, we’ve been at this a long time, and that’s just not our scene anymore. No doubt we had enough of all of that when we started out, but this is much more of a business to us now than it was back then,” I clarify.
“Well, that, and since you date the most beautiful models, actresses, and singers in the world, you don’t really need groupies anymore,” Andi points out.
“There’s that, too.” Kale smirks.
“So, what do you normally do before a show?” she asks, sincerely interested.
“Just this,” Drew answers with a shrug. “We chill out while the other acts play, and then bust our asses while we’re onstage to give everyone a good show.”
“And after the show?” she asks.
“That’s when the fun starts, Andi. And tonight is your full initiation into the group. Let’s see if you can hang with us,” Kale challenges.
“Yeah, we have plans for you, little girl.” Mike weighs in.
Andi’s expression turns playful. “Oh, I can definitely hang with the Grandpa Quartet. Bring your A-game, boys.”
All the guys respond at the same time, eating up the challenge and loving her spunk. They were positive she’d be much too reserved to hang with us. They thought they’d have to be careful what they said around her or they’d offend her delicate sensibilities. Not a damn one of the dickheads would listen when I told them she’s cool as shit.
“What if we take you to a strip club?” Mike asks, thinking he has her cornered.
“What if I take you to an all-male revue?” she counters and effectively shuts him down.
“Umm, no. I don’t want to see that shit,” Mike replies and scrunches his face up as the thought sinks in.
Andi laughs at him. “Mike, you’d be in a room with a bunch of women instead of a room with a bunch of men.”
“Yeah, but the view… No, Andi. Just no.”
“Fine. What if we go to an after-hours club and dance? Surely you have some moves you can show off on the dance floor?”
“No,” Drew says vehemently, causing all heads to jerk in his direction.
“You can’t dance?” Andi snorts.
“I don’t dance,” Drew corrects.
“You dance tonight.” Andi nods. “Tonight, we all dance. It’ll be fun. This is Miami—we have to go to a good salsa bar while we’re here. It’s the law.”
“The law? Really?” Kale asks.
“Yep. Check the books.”
The guys look at each other and then at me. Andi follows their gaze and quirks her eyebrow up at me.
“What do you say, boss man? You up for a little dirty dancing tonight?” she asks with a playful twist of her hips.
“Absolutely. Salsa dancing for everyone, it is,” I confirm. Mike and Kale flash their cocky, shit-eating grins, and Drew looks absolutely sick.
This after-party idea just got a lot more interesting.
Sound Bar takes the stage and the crowd goes wild for us. The noise level from our screaming fans is deafening, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Their excitement feeds us, and we give them our all in return. Our playful banter and spirited antics onstage keep the crowd begging for more.
When I get to “Should’ve Been Me” in the lineup, I can’t wait to introduce it for the first time.
“So…MIAMI!” I yell, and the crowd screams in reply. “Since you’re the first stop on our tour, you get to hear something no other fan has heard yet. After tonight, I’m sure it’ll be all over the Internet. But for now, it’s our little secret.”
The guys laugh, knowing that most have their phones ready to record and that this very song will be available by the time this crowd leaves the building. Until then, it creates the feeling of being part of the secret club.
“Have you ever met someone who just took your breath away from the very first glance? Then, when you’re finally able to speak, you find that she’s even more spectacular than you first thought. As time goes on and you become better friends, you have to admit that you’re actually very much in love with her.
“But, she already loves someone else,” I say solemnly, and the crowd responds with a collective painful sigh. “This song is dedicated to those who are in love with someone who’s in love with someone else.”
A walkway from the stage extends out into the audience seated on the floor and ends with a large, rectangular area. As I pour my feelings into every word of the song, singing directly to the fans as I move past, I immediately see tears streaming down many of their faces.
Reaching the larger area in the middle of the floor, I drop to my knees as I belt out the lyrics full of yearning and need. The pain and longing in my voice is real, and the audience can feel it along with me.
Pick up the phone, give me a call
I’m here alone, I’ll give my all
He can’t love you, not like I do
But one day soon, I will show you
Arms extend toward me, hands groping and desperate to touch me as I keep singing. I purposely picked a place that’s too far away to be in any danger from the fans but still looks close enough to touch. It creates a frenzied audience, especially when the lyrics are as heartbreaking as these.
It’s too bad that’s not the reason why I wrote them.
As the last musical note rings, I stand and look off into the distance, playing up the tortured-soul look as the female fans scream out how they’ll take care of me. That used to be such a turn-on to me, but now their empty promises just fall short.
I’m turn
ing into such a pussy.
“We have a couple more surprises for you tonight. We’re just full of it, huh?” I ask the audience, giving them a smile and a wink. The Jumbotron screens around the arena give everyone a bird’s-eye view of my every move, and I use that to my advantage.
“Can I have my special guest join me onstage now?” I ask cryptically.
The stage lights dim and the spotlight is solely on me. The music starts softly in the background, and I feel the change in the air when Andi approaches. The crowd is going wild and my body is responding in kind, but to her. I can feel her presence, and I slowly turn to look over my shoulder at her just as she reaches me.
Speaking to the audience, but gazing deeply into Andi’s eyes, I introduce the song with a story. “Loving someone can be hard, especially if you can’t really have that person to yourself. People say love hurts, but hiding your love fucking hurts. Sometimes you have to ‘Just Lie.’”
The boys pick up the volume of the music, and Andi sings the first verse. We’re playing it up to the audience, like we’re the couple I was just talking about. It’s the way her eyes pierce me that’s making me squirm where I stand. The fire in her eyes, the passion in her voice, and the honesty in the words are killing me.
When we wake tomorrow
We will have to decide
If we’ll stay together
Or if we’ll say goodbye
But baby, for tonight
Let’s just lie.
Then my verse follows hers and I mean every word of it.
It’s already so late
You can always just stay
My bedroom misses you
And my body does too
Baby, just for tonight
Let’s just lie.
We sing the chorus together, and then we alternate the verses until the bridge and chorus at the end. The whole song is a waltz of words that pulls me deeper and deeper into her spell. She’s singing the words to me. She has to feel it, too.