The Redemption(20)

After my shower, I lay on the bed as she digs through her suitcase. With a shirt in her hands, she asks, “What do you think about the red, one shoulder number for tonight?”

“With the dark jeans? Sexy.”

“Black ankle boots or black shimmer heels?”

“Ankle boots.”

“Sex with Dex or kissing only?”

I stare at the back of her head, surprised by her question, but not shocked. When she turns around, she grins with her hand on her hip. “I can tell you’re into him. You can’t hide the truth from me.”

“I like him, but it feels self-indulgent.”

She sits on the edge of the bed and I move over to give her more space. “Since when is happiness self-indulgent?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yes, I do, but here’s the reality. You are a single woman, whether you wanted to be or not. It’s been years. You don’t have to forget, but don’t do your heart the injustice of never letting it race again either.”

“What will people say if Dex and I do end up dating?”

“What people? Because everyone that is important in your life wants you to be happy. If it’s happy with Mr. Smooth and Sexy, then even better.”

“You think he’s sexy?”

“God, Rochelle. You were totally right. He’s hot, hotter than even I remembered and I remember him being pretty damn hot. I think his old hairstyle, that ratty bandana, and sunglasses hid that sexy man for too long.”

“He smells good too.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Oh really?”

“Yep,” I say, nodding. “He does.”

She giggles and that makes me giggle too. It feels good to talk to someone about Dex. It feels good to be unburdened from the guilt that’s weighed me down for so long and just feel giddy again.

“Did you sleep with him yet?”

No one knows of our one night years ago, except Tommy, and I’m not telling now. “Lara!”

“I’ll take that as a yes. I’m not judging by the way. I’d drop my panties for those captivating brown eyes any day.”

She gets up and grabs the red top again.

To move this topic along to something else, I say, “We need to leave in thirty if we’re gonna make it to the show in time.”





Johnny looks back at Dex sitting on his pedestal as he beats down the end of the song on his drum kit, closing the show. Dex gets up, walks to the edge of the stage and the crowd goes nuts. He launches the drumsticks into the audience and I shake my head. He pays a fine every time he does that, but he still does it because he knows how much the fans love it. He’s been warned a million times not to do it, but I kind of love that he still does. Johnny exits the stage first, then Dex, Kaz, and Derrick trailing.

“Good show,” I say as they pass. They’re usually moody or high-strung after a performance, so I like to give them space until they’re grounded again. Lara and I walk to the exit, wanting some fresh air because it smells backstage. A lot of sweaty men moving heavy equipment and lights around will do that.

With my back against the grey wall, I slide down and balance as Lara lights a cigarette. The doors open again and Kaz and Dex are there. They nod in acknowledgment, but continue talking about some screw up that pissed off Johnny. Dex winks at me before telling Kaz, “Fuck, just hit the riff. It’s not hard. You do it in rehearsal.” Dex lights up, then brings the cigarette to his mouth and inhales. The action is sexier than it should be. I’m not sure if it’s the way he holds it or the way his lips caress it, but either way, I can’t stop staring.

Through smoke-filled exhales, Kaz says, “No one notices that shit.”

“Everybody f*cking notices,” Dex snaps, aggravated. “Fans know these songs inside and out. How the f*ck do you mess up a song you’ve been playing for two years?”

“Fuck you,” Kaz gripes. “Maybe it wasn’t a mess up but my own f*cking spin on it.”

Dex is quick with his response, “Nobody wants your spin on it, man. They want Cory’s.”

Kaz takes a drag and then says, “Fuck that music. That music is dead just like him. It’s time for us to make our own.”

I’m on my feet, moving to the door.

Kaz grabs my arm. “Oh f*ck, Rochelle. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

I yank my arm free and go inside, not running though it’s all I want to do. I can’t breakdown in front of them. I can’t show my weakness, or how affected I still get. I go as fast as I can, now running despite all the strength I try to pretend to have. But I’m stopped and pulled into a dark doorway. I gasp, the sudden impact a surprise and I look up into sympathetic, but warm eyes.

My own eyes start to water, the tears forcing themselves out. Dex pulls me against him. His scent—sweat from the show under a clean shirt—sexy and strong, masculine, but overpowering. His large hand covers the back of my head and he strokes. I breathe him in, finding the comfort I need.

“Rochelle.”

We jump apart when Kaz appears. “Rochelle, I’m sorry. I really am. You know Cory was my idol.”

Slowly stepping back into the light, I clear my throat and steady myself. “Then treat him with the respect he deserves. He wrote that song, the one you were complaining about, when he was nineteen. It came from somewhere deep inside, somewhere slightly dark. You don’t get that. You play notes that you feel forced to play, so you’re pushing back. I do get that. But The Resistance isn’t about you, Kaz. It’s about the music and a band as a whole. You play over an hour of new songs. The encore will always be about the hits and what the fans love. So do us all the courtesy of setting your ego aside and playing for them instead of yourself.”