Ultimate Game Changer, Page 3

  By the time I make it back to the venue, the show is over, and only the last band is still loading out. I can see the silhouettes of the guys inside the van waiting for me. I’m sure Cade’s beside himself. I beeline it for the van when I hear a whistle that catches my attention.

  “You didn’t even bother to catch us play, did you?” Aiden asks, walking up to me, smoking a cigarette. “I’m hurt.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know that was requested of me,” I reply smiling. “Can I bum one?” I ask nodding my head toward his cigarette. I’m feeling good, and I know the nicotine will take me to another level.

  “Sure.” He pulls out a pack of Marlboro Reds and then hands me one with a lighter. After it’s lit, I hand him back the lighter. “So where did you go?” he asks, motioning with his head toward the city in the distance.

  “Just went to this bar down the street. Got a couple of drinks, hit a joint a few times.”

  His eyes widen as he takes me in. “So you’re that type of girl?”

  “I don’t know what that means, but I like to smoke… yes,” I answer, laughing. I take a drag off my cigarette, the smoke filling my lungs and making me feel lightheaded.

  “Emerson Jayne Tucker, what the fuck?” Cade bellows, and then I hear a door slam immediately after. He uses my full name, so I know he’s not playing around. Angry footsteps are coming right at Aiden and me.

  I take one last puff off the cigarette before dropping it to the ground and smashing it out with my shoe.

  “How long have you been standing there? We’ve all been waiting on you!” Cade huffs.

  “Only a few minutes,” I say simply.

  “Get in the van,” Cade says as if I’m a child.

  “So that’s how it’s going to be?” I ask before storming off like the child he is making me out to be.

  “Get in the van now; I’m not playing, Em, we’re tired and hungry and need to get on the road.”

  I glance at Aiden who looks like a little deer in the headlights. “I think I may find an alternate ride there.”

  “Shut the fuck up,” Cade says thinking I’m joking.

  “Aiden, do you think there’s room for one more on your bus?” I ask, knowing just how angry it’s going to make Cade.

  Aiden looks between Cade and me, appearing torn. “Dude, this is my sister, I brought her on the tour, what I say goes,” Cade says in a panicked tone.

  I hear another door open and shortly after Braxton is standing near Cade. “Get in the van, Em, it’s time to go.”

  “Oh, great, another one of my brother’s minions. Seriously, I’m tired of you guys trying to call all the shots in my life.” I am slurring my words slightly, but I don’t care. I’m still feeling good.

  “You’re drunk, get in the van,” Braxton says calmly.

  “Aiden, what would you do if you had everyone else in the world making all your decisions for you? Would you just give in and conform to their wants and needs? Or would you fight back to find your happiness?” I’m feeling philosophical, but I’m also feeling sick. The sky is spinning. “Hold that thought,” I say, falling to my knees and yacking on the concrete.

  “That’s gnarly!” I hear someone comment in the background.

  “Gross, she puked in her hair!” I hear another person chime in. Sure enough, chunks of my earlier slice of pizza are embedded in my blond hair.

  I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, the wet throw up feeling slimy on my fingers.

  “Good luck with that,” I hear Aiden softly say before his cigarette falls to the ground near me and he puts it out with his shoe.

  “God, Em, why do you have to be such a fucking mess?” Cade asks, his hands reaching under my armpits and lifting me off the ground. I’m unsteady on my feet, and everything is still spinning.

  “I don’t feel well,” I say, although I know it’s more than apparent.

  “Well, we don’t want you in the van smelling like puke. Maybe you should find another ride to the next stop,” Braxton says, although I doubt he’s serious.

  I’m groaning from the pain in my upset stomach and breathing hard. My stomach feels like a pot of soup that someone is stirring.

  “Jesus, Em, what the fuck are we going to do with you?” Cade asks, beyond irritated with me and my antics.

  “Just leave me here,” I reply, falling back to the ground. My legs feel weak, and I feel like I might puke again.

  “Goddamn it!” Cade roars, kicking the concrete ground with his foot. “Come on.” Once again I’m being lifted from the ground. Soon enough, I’m being dragged back into the venue, and down to the shower they have for the touring musicians. “Clean yourself up,” Cade orders as he turns on the shower and pushes me toward it.

  The shower is small and not as clean as I would like it to be. The thin curtain is see through, and any other day I might worry about being seen, but I don’t have a choice in this situation.

  I’m still feeling terrible, but maybe the water will help. After he leaves me alone, I strategically strip my clothes off, narrowly missing the vomit chunks in my hair and then throw myself into the small shower. Conveniently, there is a travel size shampoo sitting on the ground, so I borrow some to help with my gross hair. I spend most of the time sitting on the ground of the shower, and letting the water hit my lower back, which helps calm the storm brewing in my stomach.

  “Em?” I hear my name shortly after. This time, it’s not Cade’s overbearing brotherly tone, but the voice is still familiar. Braxton’s dark hair and face come into view from the other side of the curtain. I grip my legs tighter, making sure that his only view is my bare back, and then raise my head.

  “I’m almost done,” I say simply. “Turn around.”

  He does as he’s told and I stand quickly, my arms instantly going to cover my breasts. It’s at this exact second that I realize I don’t have a towel. “Shit,” I mutter to myself more than anything.

  “What?” Braxton asks, turning around. He is holding a familiar looking shirt and jeans. Wait, those are mine. Braxton went through my suitcase? Suddenly, I realize that I’ve been gawking at him and still completely nude.

  “No!” I scream, scrambling to hide myself any way possible, but the damage has already been done. He’s seen more of me than I care to admit.

  “Shit, Em!” he curses, immediately covering his eyes. “Where’s your towel?”

  “I don’t have one,” I say, shivering.

  “You’re some piece of work, aren’t ya?” he asks, and then I watch as he removes his sweatshirt, handing it to me.

  “What do you expect me to do with this?” I ask, eyeing the large gray sweatshirt.

  “Use it to dry off.” Once again he turns around giving me my privacy, and I quickly run the soft fabric over my skin. Once I’m dry enough, I wrestle with getting on the clothes he brought for me as fast as possible. I’m shivering because my hair is wet, but I’m thankful I don’t smell like vomit anymore.

  “Here ya go,” I say, handing Braxton back his damp sweatshirt. “Thanks.” I pick up my spoiled clothes, carrying them delicately.

  “Don’t say I never did anything for you,” he replies snidely.

  Just as we begin to ascend the stairs back to the main level of the venue, my stomach begins churning uncontrollably. “Hey, Brax,” I say, breathing hard, attempting to keep the bile down.

  “Yeah?” He shifts his gaze back to me.

  “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  Chapter Six:

  Braxton

  I wasn’t sure we were going to make it, but we lived through Hurricane Emerson. Honestly, I wasn’t sure we would. She put us through hell that night in Washington, and most of yesterday, but she finally recovered.

  I don’t know what her problem was that day and why she went to such an extreme to piss Cade and me off, but she’s calmed down since. Aiden has still been sniffing around her, and now that I know about his little arrangement with his wife, I don’t want Em anywhere near him. He�
�s no good for her. God, she’s so fucking innocent, it’d crush her if she actually started liking the guy. Cade’s been doing a decent job of his brotherly cock-blocking, but I think I may actually have to step in soon because he can’t watch her all the time.

  We played Cleveland last night, and our next stop isn’t until tomorrow night, so we drove to the next city late last night so we could spend our day off in Chicago. Hands down, Chicago is one of my favorite cities to visit. I’m never bored; the pussy is grade-A prime and constant, and the city is just alive.

  We splurged for a cheap enough place to stay for the night that it’s not considered a hotel, but expensive enough to have a gated entrance, so our van and equipment will be semi-safe. It’s a place made for kings and queens – The Motor Vu Inn. Fancy. It’s so fancy that I’ve opted to sleep on top of the bed covers just in case there might be any creepy crawlies inside the sheets. But, the coffee is black and strong and free, the most important part.

  It’s a little past nine fifteen in the morning, and I’m just finishing up my shower when I hear a knock at my door. I throw a towel around my waist and head toward the sound. Tossing the door open, I find a surprised Emerson staring down at the small towel draped around my lower half. “Good morning to you, too,” I say with a smirk. Her eyes travel slow and steady up my body to finally meet mine, but by that time her face is two shades of red.

  “Hey,” she says, seemingly contemplating her next words. “I just wanted to say thank you for taking care of me the other day; I know I’m not your responsibility and I’m just Cade’s annoying little sister, but I appreciate it.”

  I cock my head to the side. “You’re never just going to be Cade’s annoying little sister, you’ve been in my life nearly as long as you’ve been in his. You’re like my own blood. So yeah, in a way, you are my responsibility, just like I expect you to hold my hair back when I puke,” I joke, winking at her.

  She pushes me in the shoulder lightly. “Thank you, Brax, and I mean that, but sometimes, I just need you guys to back off a little bit. Let me live my life. I’m twenty-two, I don’t want to be single for the rest of my life. You guys just need to loosen the reigns a bit. Even Mischa isn’t as overbearing as the two of you, and she’s our guardian.” She sighs, leaning on the doorframe.

  “Does this have anything to do with Aiden and all of the attention he’s been showing you lately?” I ask, my gaze lowering protectively.

  She shakes her head. “No. This doesn’t have anything to do with Aiden. This has to do with the fact that when I was sixteen and Terrence Young asked me out; my brother threatened him for a week to leave me alone. This has to do with the fact that when I was seventeen, David Carrington asked me to prom and then a few days later, he miraculously had a change of heart. I had to go to prom alone while he took Tara Forner; do you know how much that sucked?” she pauses, gathering her thoughts.

  “This has to do with the fact that when I finally turned eighteen, I thought Cade was going to lighten up. I thought for once in my life, he was going to let me experience something, anything, and that was shattered when he gave my date a black eye on our first date just for kissing me. Or wait, do you remember the time when I was twenty, and it wasn’t just Cade but the whole band who ruined my relationship with Evan Driscoll?”

  I can’t help but glower back at her. Hearing his name always makes me rage. “He wasn’t a good guy, Em.”

  Emerson scoffs. “That was for me to find out, not for you guys to decide for me. So maybe he wasn’t a good guy…maybe he would have hurt me…but you know what, it would have been a hell of a lot better for me to figure that out on my own rather than being heartbroken about what could have been for weeks, even months. I didn’t forgive you guys for the entire summer.”

  I nod slowly. “I know.” I remember that summer vividly. We tried everything to get her to forgive us. Nothing worked. And then one day she just walked in and grabbed one of the controls to the Wii and began playing without saying a word. None of us ever brought it up after that, until now.

  “Look,” she says, her gaze softening, “I know you guys are only trying to help. I know you mean well, but look at me, do I look like a little girl to you?”

  My eyes drag up her body from her feet to her head. Those hips, those perky breasts, nope she’s all woman. She’s wearing a set of overalls that look like they are straight out of the ‘90s, with one side open, the white shirt underneath clinging to her lacy nude bra. I don’t normally look at Emerson like she’s some piece of meat, but when she asks the question, I take the liberty of dragging my eyes up and down her body. Cade would have my head if he saw me looking at her like this, or even had an ounce of an idea that I was checking her out. I think overprotective is the understatement of the year. Emerson is right, in Cade’s eyes no one is good enough for his sister, and they never will be.

  “No, you look like Emerson to me,” I say simply. I glance down at the damp towel around my waist. “I’m going to get dressed. You want to stay and watch? I’ll give you a nice show.” I wink at her, making her squirm under my heated gaze. I love messing with her. She’s so timid and shy; I can only imagine how inexperienced she is. I don’t mean any harm by messing with her; I just love to see how uncomfortable I can make her and just how quick.

  She pushes off the doorframe, standing straight. “I’m headed to meet Cade; we are going to get some breakfast if you want to join. I think the rest of the band is going to sleep in.”

  I nod. Typical. Cade and I can’t seem to let a day go to waste. No matter what we are doing, we are always both in the similar mindset that every day needs to be a new experience. It’s part of the reason we are so close. I’ve done more crazy shit with that guy than anyone else in my life. Walk on glass? Check. Jump out of a plane? Check. Ride an elephant? Check. It’s sick to think, but if Cade were female, he’d probably be my soulmate. I shake the nasty thought from my head and then say goodbye to Emerson, making sure to get the name of the restaurant to meet them at once I’m dressed.

  When I arrive, Cade and Emerson are already seated with ice waters and coffees in front of them. “What beverage can I get for ya, sweetheart?” the elderly waitress asks me.

  “Can I get an iced tea?” I ask, sliding into the booth next to Cade. He grunts good morning to me, handing me one of the plastic menus.

  “You sure can. Be right back.”

  “Mischa called this morning,” Emerson says from behind her menu to Cade.

  “What did she say?” he asks from behind his menu.

  “She was just making sure I was alive after the vomit heard ‘round the world. Apparently, I butt-dialed her multiple times that night, so she knew everything.”

  This is not surprising of Emerson, the clumsy-queen; in fact, I can almost imagine it. A grin begins pulling at my lips.

  “She been staying with Zach?” Cade asks.

  Emerson doesn’t even bother lowering the menu so she can see her brother before replying, “Where else?”

  “I worry about Puss and Boots,” Cade says. If I were a girl, I might have melted right then and there. Puss and Boots are their cats. They got them when they were only seven weeks old and they are brother and sister, just like Cade and Emerson.

  “Oh, come on,” Emerson replies, finally dropping her menu and rolling her eyes. “Mischa is not going to let Puss and Boots starve to death. She’s going to go home to check on them. Plus, she has to check the mail sometime. Plus, Breigh has a spare key to the house, so worse comes to worse, she can go rescue them.”

  “Breigh has a spare key to the house? Since when?” Cade asks, dropping his menu, his eyes widening at the thought.

  “Since forever,” Emerson says. “It’s not that big of a deal; it’s from when she house sat for us that summer we stayed with Grandpa and Grandma because Mischa couldn’t handle us.”

  Cade still seems unsatisfied, but he drops it.

  “I’m hungry, where’s the steaks at?” I ask more to myself than anyone els
e as I flip my menu to the last page, busying myself in the descriptions and pictures.

  Chapter Seven:

  Emerson

  “Girl, Austin is amazing, you would love it here!” I say, eyeing the city around me, and clutching my phone closer to my ear. The hustle and bustle of the city is intoxicatingly loud.

  “Well, thanks for the invite, supposed best friend,” Breigh moans.

  “Hey, number one, I am your best friend, no questions. Number two, I thought it might be even cooler if you met us in California. We have three dates there, and you could fly out for your first time. What do you think?” I’m nervous to hear her response; I’ve been working on my pitch all morning.

  A high-pitched squeal comes from the other end of the line. “Oh. My. God! Are you serious?”