I smiled down at her in a way that I’d heard melted panties and nodded my head toward the back room. She arched an eyebrow and winked. All the confirmation I needed.
“You made it, Cheyenne,” Vin called out next to me.
My head snapped to the side, my conversation with Blondie completely forgotten. Cheyenne? As in, Aribel’s roommate? Is she here? She might have been pissed with me, but maybe her friends had dragged her along. It was wishful thinking maybe, but I had to know.
“Will you just give me a minute?”
She pouted with her gloss-coated full lips. For a second, I envisioned the mess that would make on my dick, and I shuddered. Blondie had a nice rack, but she needed to take that shit off.
“Come on, baby,” Blondie purred.
“Just one minute.” I held up a finger, pulled myself from her grasp, and walked over to where Vin was standing with a tall, curly-haired ginger.
I looked around, but I didn’t see a short blonde in a cardigan. Maybe she was hidden behind the mass of people who had just come backstage. “Cheyenne,” I said in greeting.
“Oh, Grant, hey,” she said, smiling warily at me.
Not the reaction I was used to. I wondered if Aribel had told her what had happened or if gossip had traveled to her.
“Bro!” Vin said, trying to nudge me out.
He still didn’t realize that I had no interest in the girl in front of me.
“Hey, is Aribel with you tonight?”
“Aribel? Hmm…” Cheyenne glanced back at the two girls standing behind her.
One of them, a nondescript brunette, shook her head, and her eyes bulged slightly. All right, so they are going to play it like this.
“She’s not with us,” the other girl with a blonde pixie cut said so softly.
I barely caught what she had said.
“Oh, she didn’t show?” I couldn’t hide my disappointment. How the hell am I going to get to this girl?
“We tried to get her to come, Grant,” Cheyenne spoke up.
The brunette chick smacked her.
“What, Shelby? We did! Nothing wrong in telling him.”
“She’s not interested in him,” Shelby whispered.
“She’s an idiot for not being—”
“Ladies, it’s fine,” I said, shutting them up.
I didn’t want them to keep bickering, and if they kept talking about her, it was going to bring me down from the high I was on from the show. I liked to hold on to my adrenaline rush for as long as I could.
Blondie was making her way over to me, and she had a scowl on her face that did nothing for her. After just talking about Aribel, the thought of fucking Blondie in the restroom stall didn’t sound that appealing. Who the fuck am I?
“Guys,” Miller said. He had a huge smile plastered on his face. “The scout wants to talk to us!”
“What? Really?” Vin asked.
“Scout?” Cheyenne asked curiously.
“A label scout,” Vin told her. “We’re gonna get fucking signed. We’re gonna be fucking famous!”
“Vin, keep it down,” Miller said, punching him on the arm.
“Sorry, girls,” Vin said. He leaned forward and planted a bold kiss on Cheyenne’s lips. “Next time you see me, I’ll have graduated to rock god.”
Cheyenne laughed and shook her head. Yeah, she wants him.
I nodded at the girls and didn’t even glance at Blondie before turning and following my brothers to where we would meet with the label scout. Anticipation buzzed through every inch of my body, and by the time we made it to a private back room, I was practically bouncing from the shot of adrenaline. This was my future right here, my boys’ future. Our moment for fame was dangling before us on a string, and all we had to do was walk into this room and take it.
“Welcome, gentlemen,” a guy in a black suit said.
With greasy short hair, a fake smile, and beady, observant eyes, he looked exactly how I’d pictured label scouts.
“Please, sit. You want beers or water or something?”
We all shook our heads.
McAvoy was last into the room. He shut the door and took a seat.
“Great. We’re all here. I’m Frank Boseley with BankHead Records. I’m glad that I was able to come out and hear you guys live. Look, I’ll just cut to the chase. I’m not sure you’re exactly what our label is looking for right now.”
My stomach plummeted. Shit! The boys deflated around me. I knew that this was just the first of many rejections we would likely see in this industry, but we had killed it tonight. If a label didn’t want us off of that performance, when would they want us?
“Thanks for inviting me out. I wish you luck in your future.”
Miller, always the best of us, walked up and shook Frank’s hand. Miller handled the business side of the band, so he’d had the most contact with Frank. It must have hit him the hardest even though it was clear we all felt like someone had punched us in the gut.
“Thank you for the opportunity,” Miller said and then he turned back to us. “Come on, guys.”
I stood in dismay and started to leave with my friends. I couldn’t believe what had just gone down. My high was diminishing quickly, and I was going to need a drink and at least a blow job to get over this.
“Grant,” Frank called, stopping me in my tracks. “My man, do you mind staying after for a minute?”
What the fuck did he want? Miller, McAvoy, and Vin looked like they wanted to know the same damn thing. I was too curious not to stay though even if the man gave me the creeps.
“Yeah, sure. What’s up?”
“Just close that door for a minute.”
I nodded at the guys reassuringly before shutting the door. “What’s up?”
Frank crossed his arms over his chest and smiled. “I know I said that the label isn’t interested in ContraBand, Grant, but that’s only partially true.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, confused.
“They’re not interested in ContraBand. They’re interested in you.”
Oh. Motherfucker thought I was a sellout?
“The reason I’m here today is because of you. We’re looking for a front man. Solo acts are selling right now, Grant, and I’m offering you the opportunity of a lifetime to sign with BankHead Records.”
“What about the other guys?”
“Fuck the other guys. You don’t need them. You carry that band. You’re the it factor, and you’re the person fans come to watch. The screaming crowd was for you, my man. People were cramming into this bar for you. You’re filling a dive bar, and we’ll fill arenas together.”
I laughed and scratched the back of my head. Arenas. Shit.
“So, what do you say, Grant? You with us?”
“What do I say?” I said. I looked straight into that fucker’s beady eyes and told him exactly what I thought, “No. I’m going to have to say no.”
“No?” he asked in shock. “You have no idea what you’re missing out on.”
“You’re a fucking piece of shit if you think I’ll ditch my brothers for you. I’m not a sellout. I’m not a fucking dick you can jack off with the delusional promise of sold-out arenas. If I’m fucking selling out arenas, then it’s happening with my boys behind me. Without them, this business isn’t worth the headache of dealing with pieces of shit like yourself.”
I stormed out of that room like someone had lit a fire under my ass. I pushed past the guys and ignored their questions. They could see the murderous look on my face, but I didn’t have it in me to tell them the audacity that prick had.
Blondie was waiting for me as well, but I wasn’t in the mood for that bullshit tonight. I’d barely been in the mood for it before Frank Boseley had fucked up my entire night.