CHAPTER ONE
For the past seven months, Bulletproof has been kicking ass all across America, with one sold out show after another. For the next three nights, they’ll be performing for their hometown fans in Los Angeles. There was still over a month left on the national tour, and this little stop would give them a chance to briefly visit friendsand family before the tour took them across the country again. Not tonight, though, because the band arrived at the Staples Center with barely enough time to make sound check and grab a shower before the new opening band took the stage.
The pre-show party took place in Brandon’s dressing room because Bulletproof’s lead singer always got the best digs, and it was filled with the usualgroupies, roadies and hangers-on. Derek MacAlister, the band’s guitarist, weaved through the crowd, found Brandon and slung his arm over his best friend’s shoulder. “Wanna take a walk to the side of the stage and check out our new support?”
Brandon clinked his beer bottle against Derek’s. “Right on.”
The corridor was a maze of people all racing back and forth in orderto perform whatever shit they did to make sure the show ran smoothly. The music from the opening band filled the backstage area, but Derek couldn’t appreciate it until he was face to face with the amps and the sound waves struck him in the chest. He tapped his foot and rocked his head, enjoying the new music as he stood at the side of the stage. “Pretty fucking good!”
Brandon noddedin agreement. “What’s their name again?”
“Reckless.” It was a lucky-as-shit break for the newly famous hard rock band to land a gig supporting Bulletproof. The opening band that had been touring with them for the last few months needed to pull out unexpectedly right before Bulletproof’s stop in L.A. Since Reckless was out of Orange County, they were in the right place at the righttime.
Derek pulled his long hair to the front and twisted it around his fist while he searched his memory for what he knew about Reckless. The band had burst onto the music scene a few months ago and dominated the hard rock charts. The out-of-control lead singer had made headlines with his wild behavior. Derek raised an eyebrow. That could be a good thing. Since his bandmates wereall paired off in committed relationships, maybe now he’d have someone to pal around with when they were in couple’s mode.
“I gotta get back,” Brandon shouted over the music. “I gotta do my vocal exercises.”
Brandon Bullet and his fucking vocal exercises. Derek let out a short laugh and shook his head at his friend. The guy babied his voice almost as much as he babiedhis long, blond hair. “Go ahead. I’m gonna hang here and listen to these guys for a bit.”
Derek continued to watch the band with a critical eye. The guitarist’s fingering could be a little tighter, but he was quick on the fret board. He was heavy on the whammy bar, but it gave them their own sound. The drummer and bass player were in perfect timing, and the music was fresh. The leadsinger’s voice held power and staunch. He kept the crowd engaged with confidence and swagger. Derek nodded his approval. Reckless was a nice addition to the tour.
Reckless’ lead singer slowly turned toward Derek, as if feeling his presence at the side of the stage. The singer’s eyes bore into Derek like twin beacons as they caught the light, and the intense gaze robbed Derek of hisbreath for a few moments. A crooked smile sprang onto the singer’s lips as he sang. Eyes still locked on Derek, his body swayed with playfulness as he rocked to the song.
The singer sauntered toward Derek, his free hand in the air rolling with the beat of the music, while his voice projected the lyrics throughout the arena. Derek was riveted, unable to move, frozen in place and mesmerizedby the gorgeous man headed straight to the side of the stage. As the singer got closer, the colored lights above changed the spiky, platinum blond tips of his hair red, then blue, and then purple. When the singer got about two feet away, Derek’s body finally came to life – starting with the bulge at his crotch.
Derek smiled his most devilish grin – the same smile that brought mento their knees. Only Reckless’ lead singer didn’t seem fazed. He looked like he was just having a good time, even offering his raised palm to Derek for a high five.
Derek wanted to do so much more than just slap this guy’s hand, but he did, with a quick snap of his fingers and a big smile on his lips. As quickly as the gorgeous man noticed him, he turned and headed back to the centerof the stage, leaving Derek’s lustful gaze trailing after him. The singer unexpectedly turned, caught Derek’s eye, and gave him a teasing wink.
Derek replied with a naughty smile, shaking his head slowly. “You don’t know what the hell you’re in for.” He knew there was no way the singer could have heard him over the music, but the singer laughed through the next lyric as if he readDerek’s lips, before returning his attention to the audience.
Derek stepped back a few feet, out of the singer’s sightline, and pulled the phone from his pocket. He wanted to know everything about Reckless, specifically the singer, and quickly tapped the name of the band onto the keypad. There were the usual stories about a local Orange County band getting a recording contract witha major label and claiming the number one spot on the rock charts. That didn’t interest Derek. He wanted to know intimate details about the singer. His name was Travis Fontana. Derek looked back at the stage. Hidden behind a piece of equipment, he spied on the sexy man, gawking at his muscled back and his tight ass in body-hugging black jeans.
Without warning, Travis turned towardthe side of the stage to look for Derek. It made Derek’s heart thump, and he held his breath for a brief second. He leaned back slightly to remain hidden by the shadows, and started scrolling through images of Travis. He stopped on one that made his brow furrow. Travis was kissing a girl on the lips. In another photo, Travis was between two girls, an arm around each of them. He scrolled through theimages and found more with Travis with an array of different ladies, all laughing and sharing flirtatious eye contact and gestures. Travis was fucking straight? God fucking damn it. Derek pursed his lips to the side and shook his head. “What a fucking shame.”
After the show, Bulletproof returnedto the hotel too exhausted to partake in an afterparty. It was the usual split – Brandon, his boyfriend, and their black Lab in one suite, and Derek with the rest of the guys in another. They used to all share the same suite, but once Brandon found insta-love with Cameron Douglas while on vacation in Rio, the wild parties, filled with groupies and free sex, put too much stress on their relationship,and the two decided to book a separate room.
Jeremy Kagan and Alan Delgado, Bulletproof’s bassist and drummer, surprised everyone with their relationship two months ago, which left Derek the only single member of the band. And that’s exactly the way he liked it. The endless string of available men that showed up at every turn kept his nights fresh and stimulating. The only problemwas that the all-night wild parties had dwindled to a fraction of the lascivious free-for-alls they used to be, and Derek needed more excitement. “Let’s go out.”
“We just got back to the room,” Jeremy complained, as he stretched out on the couch. “We were on the road all day, went straight to sound check, and then the show.”
“And we have another show tomorrow.” Alan yawnedinto Jeremy’s shoulder. “I’m beat.”
Derek had the feeling the two of them just wanted to screw around, and it left him feeling like the odd man out. He must have had a glum frown on his face because Jeremy suddenly grabbed his hand and pulled him down onto the couch.
“Sit. We’ll watch a movie.” Jeremy clicked off the music, which was the only stimulating thing going onin the room. “We’re not gonna bail on ya, bruh.”
Alan moved to the opposite side of the couch, sandwiching Derek in the middle. Stretching one long, muscled arm around the back of the couch, Alan extended his arm to include both Derek and Jeremy. “See? Just like old times. Three bros watching a movie.”
Derek gave his friend a sarcastic smirk. “Are we 12? I don’t wantto watch a movie. Let’s do some shots.”
“Alright.” Jeremy nodded enthusiastically, his long hair falling over his shoulder. “I could go a few rounds. I’m tired, but I ain’t dead!”
“Cool.” Derek jumped from the couch, grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels from the bar, along with three shot glasses, and returned to the seat between his friends. Before he filled the glasseswith the amber bourbon, he turned the music back on and paused to enjoy the melodic beauty ofWish You Were Hereas performed by Avenged Sevenfold. Deviating from the breathy vocal style of the original, covering an iconic Pink Floyd masterpiece took guts and could have gone horribly wrong, but A7X crushed it.
Derek, Alan, and Jeremy decided to play a drinking game. They each chosea word and took a shot every time they heard it in a song. After a while, they started changing their word to accommodate the lyrics, just so they could drink more often. After about two hours, the bottle of Jack Daniels was nearly empty and three very drunk musicians laughed much too loudly.
Derek watched his glassy-eyed bass player sway haphazardly as he placed his shot glass onthe table, where it promptly fell over and rolled to the floor.
