The Girl's Got Secrets (Forbidden Men #7)(26)

He barely glanced at the piece of plastic before flipping it back to me and studying a clipboard in his hand. “You’re not on the list.”

For a brief moment, my heart seized. The band had already rejected me, and my big chance to perform before an audience was over before it had even started. I opened my mouth, but it took a second for words to come. “Oh...yeah. I’m new. Just joined this week.”

Dude didn’t seem to care. And all he seemed to know how to say was, “You’re not on the list.”

Anger, fear, and worry slithered through me. I decided to let the anger take front and center. I’d come this far; I refused to give up now. “Look. I need in there so I can prepare for our show that we’re getting paid to provide your customers.” Wait, were we getting paid? I hadn’t even asked, and honestly it’d been the last thought on my mind. Didn’t matter. The point was, “I have to get to the stage and—”

“You’re not—”

“On the list!” I boomed. “Yes, so you’ve said. Repeatedly. But I swear to you, I’m not pulling your leg. Can’t you just grab one of the other band members to come out here and vouch for me?”

“Are you going to be a problem?”

I gritted my teeth. “Not if you let me in already.”

When he left the doorway and took a menacing step outside toward me, I gulped and backed away from him, suddenly remembering he saw another guy when he looked at me. He probably had no qualms about getting physical and roughing me up.

Oh hell, I didn’t want to get the shit kicked out of me the first week I was a dude.

The door behind him re-opened. “Everything okay out here, Grim?”

I peered around the hulking figure in front of me to see another gigantic guy in the doorway, except this one was drop-dead gorgeous and didn’t seem nearly as menacing as Grim—Dios, what a good name for him.

“I’m with the band,” I rushed to tell the hottie before the * in front of me could send him away. “I need in so I can help set up before we open tonight.”

“Oh, are you the new drummer?”

“Yes!” I sent him a thank-you gesture before glaring at Grim for still blocking my path.

“Hang on a second. I’ll get Asher.”

He disappeared, the door reclosing behind him so I was once again left with the moody doorman who’d crossed his arms over his chest and continued to stand guard in front of the club’s entrance.

“He’s going to get Asher,” I couldn’t help but taunt with a smug little smile.

Grim grunted in reply.

Seconds later, Asher popped his head out. When he saw me, surprise lit his face. “Oh, hey. You’re early. Come on in.” When he opened the door wider, the guy still looming in my path refused to budge, so Asher said, “Grim, man. It’s cool. He’s with the band. Sorry, I thought I’d put him on the list.”

“There’s no Remy Curran on the list,” Grim told him.

“Remy...?” Asher blinked, confused, before his eyes lit with understanding. “Oh, right. Yeah.” He motioned to me. “I never got your real name, so I just put you down as Sticks.” Then he nudged Grim aside. “Could you be so kind as to write Remy Curran next to the name Sticks? He can come in.”

Grim didn’t look too happy about it, but he nodded and reluctantly stepped aside.

Asher waved me forward, and I was finally admitted into Forbidden. I was so tempted to stick my tongue out and send good ol’ Grim a raspberry, but I refrained, because raspberries probably weren’t very manly...or mature.

“Sorry about that,” Asher told me as he led me toward the stage. “Grim’s ex-military. He doesn’t stray from the rules. Ever. If Harper had been working the door tonight, he wouldn’t have given you such a hard time. Still...you surprised me. None of the other band members show up until after we open.”

That made me frown. “What about setting everything up?”

“Oh. I usually take care of that.”

I blinked. “Every week? By yourself?”

“Yep.” He shrugged as if it were no big deal while he bounded up onto the stage. “But since you’re here, I’ll let you take care of the drum set.”

“Sure.” Hopping up behind him, I had to pause to glance around in awe, trying to imagine what the place would look like in an hour. I’d been up here once before, singing karaoke, but this felt totally different. Excitement thrummed through me.

I was going to play here...tonight! On the drums.

“So, your real name’s Remy?”

I jumped at the question and glanced Asher’s way where he was kneeling next to an amp and plugging in guitar cords. When my gaze connected with his curious green one, a tickle in my stomach made all my girly parts tweak to life. “Um...yeah.”

Wow, look at me, with my awesome extensive vocabulary around the pretty boy. If I didn’t check myself soon, I’d be drooling on him next.

He grinned, and sure enough, I had to swallow some drool. “But you’d rather go by Sticks?”

I shrugged. “Whatever.” Telling myself to say more words, I lamely added, “Either works.”

His chuckle made my hormones whimper. I tried to ignore him and prepare my area, but everything already appeared to be pretty much in order. All I had to do was lower my stool and hi-hat, move the pedals a tad bit closer, readjust the snare-drum and shift the toms an inch. So I found myself hovering around Asher, asking him if he needed me to do anything else, while around us, down on the ground floor, other bar workers milled about, preparing the club for opening.