Take Me with You (Take Me #2)(47)
As I recalled, Grant had been thoroughly impressed with Corey’s work on their Life Raft EP, but I understood the enthusiasm. I wanted him to do well. I was being selfish. I didn’t want him to go away. I especially didn’t want him to go away when his crazy dad was on the loose and looking for him. Maybe it would be better for him. At least Grant would be gone. His dad couldn’t get to him if he wasn’t here.
“A tour and Los Angeles—big time.”
“That’s right, Princess.” He drew me in close to him and dropped a soft kiss on my mouth. “You’re dating a big-time rock star. How does it feel?”
“About the same as when you were a nobody rock star—totally and completely strange.”
He laughed, wove his fingers through my hair, and kissed me again. “I like tilting your world off balance.”
“You’re rather successful at it.”
“I’m going to keep it that way.”
“Good,” I murmured. “Now, tell me all the details about this tour.”
The Drift concert I had stumbled into the weekend before my birthday was the beginning of a small nationwide tour. They were hitting medium-sized venues all around the country, trying to gauge interest in a blowout arena tour.
The opening band Hollis had scheduled would be pulled from the lineup halfway through the tour because of lack of audience interest. I wasn’t surprised about that bit at all. The part I’d heard from them wasn’t that great, not that it was exactly my kind of music. But I remembered thinking that The Drift needed a better opener. Well, it had turned out that they were getting one—ContraBand.
Hollis wanted to plug the guys in as The Drift traveled back up the East Coast for the second half of the tour. Grant claimed it would give ContraBand a huge boost building anticipation for their upcoming album. They’d gain a larger fan base that would be anxious for more of their music. “Life Raft” was already out there, and Hollis wanted to hammer it home to their audience. That way, when they were promoting, the song would already be a hot commodity.
It all made sense logically. I just found it surprising, not that I had any knowledge of how the music industry worked. Maybe this was more common than I thought. Growing up, I’d rarely gone to concerts, and I had never been a teenybopper who religiously followed bands like some girls.
All I wanted was for Grant to be happy. If this record deal and the tour and the studio album made him happy, then I’d be there for the ride.
At the start of the next week, ContraBand was supposed to leave to pick up on The Drift’s tour, which meant I only had one more week with Grant before he would be gone for two whole months. I knew we could make the distance work, and in the grand scheme of things, it wouldn’t be that long, but I was going to miss him. I could already feel the ache of missing him settling into my chest. I’d finally found a boy who made my heart skip, and I didn’t want him to go away.
I tried to smother those feelings when we were together. I needed to cherish the moments we had while we had them rather than obsess about the fact that he was going to be gone.
God! How had I become this girl? I’d spent my whole life trying not to be a lovesick sap. Somehow, Grant McDermott, of all people, had forced it out of me.
As much as I wanted to revel in every little moment, I still had classes, not to mention tests in my Molecular Biology and Calc IV courses. It hadn’t been an easy semester, and it was even worse when I was trying to grab on to every minute with Grant.
But trying to hold onto time was like sand in a sieve, slipping away one grain at a time until there was nothing left.
Soon enough, it was the weekend, and after that, Grant would be long gone.
The guys decided to celebrate their upcoming tour with The Drift by playing at The Ivy League one last time for all their local fans. Hurst wasn’t too thrilled about the fact that they were leaving since they brought in so much business, but I knew he was secretly pleased with their success. Everyone was happy for them. We were cheering on the hometown heroes.
When I arrived at the League with Cheyenne, Gabi, and Shelby, it was already at full capacity. The bouncer at the door was having trouble with people slipping inside on his watch. The packed building was a fire hazard, but no one seemed to care. They all wanted to be there, in that moment, to witness the beginning of the band’s rise.
The crowd made me practically claustrophobic. Cheyenne needled people out of the way, but no one seemed to want to move. She was determined though. I almost told her that we should go through the backstage entrance and watch from there, but I liked the idea of being able to see the band front and center.
Eventually, we made our way through the crowd to a spot a short distance from the stage. Their instruments were already set up, even Grant’s cherry red Gibson.
The crowd chanted, “ContraBand. ContraBand. ContraBand.”
I held my breath and let the memories flood my mind. I’d first met Grant here. Listening to him sing and play guitar that first night, I’d actually seen him, and it had made me realize that he wasn’t some idiot. He was pure passion and talent. On Halloween, he’d pulled me up onstage to kiss me. He’d written music for me and sang to me and loved me.
My throat tightened as Grant walked out. There he was, in all his glory, wearing jeans, a black T-shirt, and a new leather jacket. His dark hair was perfectly tousled. His eyes searched for me out in the massive crowd. The McDermott smirk made the girls all around me swoon.