Chasing the Music: For the Love of Music Book 0.5 (8 page)

She reached out and took a chip, slowly placing it in her mouth.

Griffin laughed. “Stacy can down one of these bags faster than me. If she were here, that would be your only chip.”

Lita chewed a little more and then said, “I didn’t know you played so well.”

“Yes you did,” he countered.

Her brows came down and she finally looked at him.

“You said my phone is normally out when I play, so you’ve been listening in.” Lita James had been listening to him play. Thank God he hadn’t known that when it was happening.

He held out the bag, and it hit him again. He was just chillin’ with Lita freakin’ James. He stared at her, willing himself to do internal jumps over who she was, but already she was just a girl, a woman, someone who looked even more tired than he felt.

Her cheeks flushed. “It’s sweet, the way you talk to her when you play her a song… I’ve listened.” She took another single chip. “I’m sorry but not sorry.”

So much welled up inside him, he wasn’t sure how to put it into words.

“So, I haven’t
totally
destroyed your peace,” he said instantly wondering how much she’d heard.

“Not totally.”

He leaned against an empty wooden box, painted black to blend into the stage and Lita did the same.

“You wanna play now?” he asked.

She shook her head and tilted her chin to look at the sky. The huge Lita James suddenly seemed like maybe one of the smallest people he’d ever met. She stared at the dark sky, dotted with stars, and he studied her. Her soft black t-shirt was much more ‘normal person on a Saturday’ than ‘rock star after a show’ but that was probably the point.

If he hadn’t been so firmly with Stacy, and Lita wasn’t
Lita
, he would have asked her to coffee or dinner or breakfast or anything.

Something inside him had tilted.

She’d been part of his private moments late at night without him knowing, and he didn’t mind. Almost the opposite. His quiet bits of stolen time had become hers, too.

That was definitely something to think about.

Lita knew that sitting out on the stage with Griffin was probably not the best idea. There would be a point when she showed too much. Let out too much. Exposed herself in a way she wouldn’t be able to take back. Maybe by being out there as herself, she’d already done that. Still, she didn’t move. And every time he took a chip, the bag was held her direction and she took one too.

They were chips. Small. Simple. Edible—even after a show when it was sometimes hard for her to choke down food despite how starving she sometimes felt.

Reviews for the tour had been pretty amazing. There were always haters, but the overwhelming response had been positive. She should have been relaxing into the routine again. Instead she felt as if she walked a tightrope of saying and doing the right things to keep Lita James on the perfect Lita James path.

Griffin stared at the stars. She studied him for a moment because normally she didn’t actually watch, just listen. Great hair. Touchably soft. One of the sexiest things about him was that he seemed to have no clue he was better looking than his brother even, and she might not have liked Ryker, but he was still a handsome guy.

“Amazing out here,” Griffin said quietly. “I don’t know how I can still be amazed at how many stars there are.”

So many.

She remembered calling her ex-boyfriend on her first tour and they’d both look up at the sky and she felt sure that they were looking at the same star—all that dreamy teenage lust rolled her up into something incredibly idiotic.

Sitting next to Griffin, she knew there was no way she’d ever looked at the same star as Matt. Too many stars. Too many variables. Everything was too far away.

“You don’t do the after-parties,” he stated.

“Nope.” Lita couldn’t give him more than that answer. Not in that moment. The question was fully loaded, even though he had no idea it was. Or maybe it was the answer that was too full of things she wasn’t ready to share.

“Want me to leave you?” he asked.

No!
she screamed in her head. There was something nice about sharing the silence with someone who had lost his starry-eyed fan look after a couple days and just went to work. He had no expectations. Or, if he did, he was damn good at hiding them. She wanted him to play more. She wanted to share a few of the softer songs that kept pushing their way into her brain and onto her notebook paper. She had no idea how these thoughts ended up in her head—especially around a stranger. “You’re fine.”

He began to play again, and she watched his fingers move so easily up and down the neck of the guitar. He was better than her. Even after all her training.

“You must play a lot,” she commented, slowly sliding another chip into her mouth. Her stomach rolled a bit, but he was right, the saltiness was helping—at least a little. Exhaustion after a show usually led to a massive meal, but this trip had been different.

“All the time.” He smiled a little and ran up the same riff again.

“Are you on the road with me in the hopes you’ll get your own show?”

“I’m on the road with you in hopes I’ll fall in love with my girlfriend again.” His eyes never left the strings, but he stopped playing.

Lita froze. “That was honest.”

Griffin shook his head. “Didn’t really mean for that to come out.”

“Story?” she asked. “Or would you rather pretend your slip didn’t happen?”

“Brief story is that we’ve been together for years, and there’s a big part of me that can’t imagine my life without her, and another part of me that feels trapped by that same thing, and another part of me that says Ryker is right and I don’t love her the way I should.”

“There are a million kinds of love, I think,” Lita said wondering if she’d given up too much of herself.

“I guess there are.”

“So you’re headed back home after this?” she asked wondering why it mattered, or if it did. There was an ease around him that she hadn’t felt around a person in a long time. Some sense of stability or something.

“Yeah.” Griffin stopped playing and shoved a hand through his unkempt hair. “My mom relies on me a lot, and not just to pay the bills.”

Whoa. Paying his mom’s bills? Lita’s parents had never been
super
wealthy, but they’d always had money. Always lived in nice houses. “Nice… That you can do that for her,” she choked out.

He was maybe more a man than most guys she’d met.

“Anyone would.” He began another tune. A slower one.

“No.” Lita licked her lips, the salt bursting in her mouth again. “Not anyone.”

He didn’t comment.

But Ryker hadn’t stuck around to help out their mom. Griffin had.

“You wanna sing for me?” she asked, biting her lip once the words were out. Maybe that was too personal.

His cheeks pinked a little. Ryker’s brother blushed. The world was truly on end.

“So, weird…” He let out a sigh.

“What’s so weird?”

He stopped, holding the strings still, stopping the sound, his brown eyes watching her. “That I’m sitting alone on the stage with Lita James and she wants me to sing to her.”

I’m just a person
. She was going to let him down. He thought she was someone… He thought she was the girl on the posters and on the album covers and on the stage. “Forget it.”

“Hey.” His head cocked to the side. “Something just shifted here. You okay?”

Damn he was perceptive. “I think I’m tired.”

“You
think
you’re tired?” A corner of his mouth turned up as she stood, and him sitting down on the stage, looking up at her with that damn perfect mouth pulled all sexily crooked… Life just wasn’t quite fair to her for putting someone so genuinely good in front of her and then basically marking him with a HANDS OFF sign.

“Nice chatting with you, Griffin.” She took a step back, and he held up the bag of chips.

It felt like a mountain rested between them. This monumental gesture.

They’re just chips. Get a grip.

“Eat. Enjoy. They’re my favorite, and I have lots.”

His favorite? She wanted to taste the salt again. She also wanted to study his face in the dim light. “Thanks.” And then her heart sank a little as she forced herself to move off the stage.

Huh. He was continually…surprising. Something to think about. Or to try and not think about.

PART II

I Want You Bad

The Offspring (2000)

Eight

The bus lurched around another corner as they made their way out of the Gorge and toward Seattle. Griffin held his phone against his ear as he sat in one of the few chairs instead of the small couch or around the table.

Pick up. Pick up. Pick up…

It wasn’t at all like Stacy to let so much time pass. He’d texted her twice that morning, and silence. She was three hours ahead, which meant it had to be afternoon in Georgia. After sitting with Lita the night before, he felt even more like he should be talking to Stacy. Wasn’t that a boyfriend/girlfriend thing? When you’re apart make sure you’re not spending too much time with the opposite sex? Make sure you call if you do? Maybe he was over-thinking.

He ended the call when her voicemail picked up and took in a long breath to prepare to talk to his mother before hitting ‘call’.

“Griffin!” she yelled into the phone.

“Hey, Ma.” He chuckled a little to himself. “I’m looking for Stacy.”

“Oh,” she answered. “Stacy must have come in sometime in the middle of the night. She’s crashed in your bed.”

“Okay. Let her sleep. The girls must have had fun last night.”

“I miss you, Griff.” Her voice had that overly sweet tone to it that he never knew what to do with. He wasn’t eight anymore, and on top of that, he shouldn’t be annoyed by something so simple.

“You too. We’ll talk soon.” And he hung up before she had a chance to bombard him with questions or problems he didn’t want to talk about or solve.

The bus hit another sharp corner and he sat up a little taller, the backdrop of the crew chatting and guitars being strummed so normal, he barely registered them anymore.

Griffin closed his eyes, but once he relaxed, all he could see was Lita, and all he could think about was if she’d gotten enough rest. If her pale cheeks and shadowed eyes were from their schedule, or something else.

Lita stared at her phone. How had she missed her dad’s call? They’d just been shopping, not rehearsing. She quickly called him back, but his phone cut straight to voicemail. Of course. Her heart squeezed as she tossed her phone on to the hotel room bed next to the bags she’d acquired.

After her day of shopping, which included a lot more posing for pictures and signing whatever people had nearby, she was ready for a nap. This wasn’t good when she had another packed stadium to play to in just hours. Seattle. The floor to ceiling windows in her hotel had an amazing view of Puget Sound, from the city to the Ferry docks to the Peninsula, but it made her feel exposed, open. Lita pulled the curtains shut.

“Coffee? Croissant?” Bridget asked as she pushed into Lita’s bedroom that stemmed out from the living room of her suite. “I got your Starbucks fav…”

“Thanks.” This would work. She pinched off a small bite of the croissant, and slipped the buttery bread into her mouth. It almost felt as if the bread expanded on her tongue, but she was probably just tired. She swallowed what felt like a mushy lump, her stomach already dancing in nerves at her next show. Seattle had been famous for rock music since the nineties, or maybe even before. How would she do there?

She shoved off the boots she’d worn through town because being seen
not
looking like Lita James wasn’t an option. Her feet ached as she rubbed her arches and slipped another small bite into her mouth, but even chewing felt exhausting.

Lita rummaged through the couple bags she’d gathered on their quick shopping trip and handed one to Bridget as she tugged off another bite. “Can you get that to Griffin?”

Lita immediately dumped her other bags out on the bed, eyeing her simple tank tops and thinking how nice it would be to do a show once in a while in just a tank and jeans, barefoot instead of rocket-high heels… Maybe she wouldn’t be so tired when she finished.

“For
Griffin
?” Bridget’s tone was all suspicion and Lita forced her eyes to stay on the few things she’d purchased for herself. “Did you get them a size too small so we can get a good look at that ass?”

“No.” Lita rolled her eyes.

“But we’re buying presents for the crew now?” Bridget asked.

Lita swallowed. They were just black jeans. No big deal. She tried for her best breezy voice. “Yeah. Thanks. He’s been out of uniform.” And she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since they sat on the stage together. His voice. The smoothness of his words through his thick Georgian accent. The way he played… How they’d just sat and it hadn’t felt… It hadn’t felt forced or awkward like it could have.