Song Chaser (Chasers) (2 page)

Everyone in that party thought she was such a nerd, but all I saw was perfection.

She never knew it, but almost every song I ever played for her was about her, or made me think of her. I was convinced that she was my perfect song, the perfect lyrics to any melody I would ever hear. Every time I heard a new underground band play, or heard a classic song on the radio, or even when I got adventurous and jotted down some lyrics of my own – she was always there, dancing in my head to every word. When we talked about everything after our fight, I told her that she was the girl in all my songs.

She probably thought I was insane.

Benny and Terrence stumble off the stage as the song ends, laughing all the way back to our place at the bar. The other residents cheer and laugh and the rest of the bar seems annoyed. I thump them both on the back and order shots for all of us, desperately trying to drown my thoughts of Paisley. As we slam them down and the liquid burns through my throat, I hear the DJ announce the next singer.

“Alright
, we got a special treat tonight. This little lady is all the way from upstate New York and just graced us with her presence three nights ago. She serves a mean whiskey sour, but that’s nothing compared to what her voice can do. Give it up for Kellee Brooks!” A few people clap, the men hoot and the rest of the bar continues drinking, but when she steps under the shoddy spotlight, a blanket of silence falls over the entire place and it’s like no one can breathe until she says something.

She nervously grabs the mic and her eyes scan the audience until she finds mine.
The cockiness she just threw at me from behind the bar is completely gone, and it’s almost like she’s nervous now. “Hi y’all,” she says sweetly, the spotlight playing on her blonde hair. “Thank you for coming out tonight, I hope you won’t be too hard on me. This is one of my favorites by Faith Hill, and I hope y’all enjoy it. It’s called
Breathe
.” She closes her eyes, and that’s the last thing any of us can do – breathe. It’s like we’re all holding in our last breath because we’re afraid we’ll never breathe the same after we hear her sing.

The music starts playing, and for the next few minutes it’s all I can do to sit there and not walk straight up to that stage, pull her down, and kiss her lips like they’ve never been kissed before. I hate karaoke, I hate when people try to sing when they can’t. But in this girl’s case, I could fucking listen to her for the rest of my life. I almost pull out my phone to record her, but I know it won’t capture anything real about this moment.
Plus I’d probably look like a psychopath stalker. So instead, I sit just there and soak it all in.

“Dude, I would so tap that,” Shane says beside me, nudging me. I want to kick him off his barstool but instead I punch his arm, “Don’t fucking talk about her that way.”

“Chill dude,” he says, rubbing his arm where I just hit. “Do you even fucking know her?”

I don’t answer, I just turn back to the stage as she finishes the song, her eyes still locked on mine.
I’m not really sure why I reacted that way. Hell, any other girl and I probably would have bumped his fist in agreement. Maybe my heart has been broken for so long I’m starting to grow a vagina or something.

Or maybe I just really want to be the only one to “tap that”.

When she ends the last note, the whole bar bursts into applause and the cutest fucking blush I’ve ever seen spreads across her face. If it’s even possible, she looks sexier than before and my cock twitches as I imagine searching the rest of her body for hidden freckles. She smiles, “Thank y’all so much.” Before she steps off stage, she looks back out to me, her brow rising again, and I know it’s a challenge.

It’s my move, and I’ll be damned if I’m not going to make it.

The First of Many Firsts

Kellee

            
 
“I can’t believe I let you drag me here,” Trista says, judgingly eyeballing the cramped, musty building we’re crammed inside of. “I don’t even know this band or anything they sing. If they’re so good, wouldn’t they be famous by now?”

I shake my head and grab her hand, pushing through the crowd to get as close to the stage as I possibly can. I’ve been wanting to see
Bad News Love Story since I was a sophomore in high school, and there’s no way Trista is going to ruin my high, especially since I’m finally letting myself have a little fun. I feel like all I do is work and now Sal, the owner of the pizza place I work at, got me a gig as a bartender at The Box. The extra money is exactly what I needed, but damn I could use a break from work and school.

“Trust me,
Tee. It’s not all about what makes it on the radio. Once you hear them, you’ll fall in love.”

I hear her mumble behind me, “Don’t count on it.”

The crowd grows even thicker the closer we get, and even though we’re just a few rows back, I’m dying to get closer. I scan the edges of the stage and spot a tiny opening near the front left. “Come on,” I call back to Trista, tugging her through.

We finally reach the small opening and I release
Trista’s hand. She immediately retrieves the lip gloss from her clutch and begins applying what has to be her seventh coat. I’m not huge into makeup, but right now I kind of wish I was. Trista’s sleek black hair is edgy and frames her face perfectly, drawing attention to her uniquely shaped eyes and defined cheek bones. I’m finally getting to see one of my favorite bands, now I’m just hoping they’ll notice me and not her.

Damn, I sound like a selfish bitch.

In my tiny hometown of Osage, regardless of my insecurities, I still knew that I stood out against many of the other girls in town. It wasn’t hard to do, seeing as how my class only had thirteen other girls in it. That’s how a lot of the schools are in upstate New York. But in New York City, I feel like I’m drowning in all the beauty around me. The lights, the girls, the thousands of eyes that surround me.

Like the honey colored eyes that belong to the boy from The Box.

I have never seen eyes like that before. They were brown, but almost golden, like the maple syrup that runs so thick on my family’s farm upstate. It had been three days, yet still they were seared into my mind and I felt them in my dreams.

Don’t be stupid, Kellee.
Sal told me about him after he left that night, about how his whole world revolves around a girl from Florida.

Figures, just my luck.

“I’m going to go get a drink, do you want anything?” Trista asks, fastening her clutch.

“No, I’m not really in the mood to drink tonight,” I say, knowing I want to be completely sober for the entire night so that I don’t miss a thing. “But hurry back, it’s already crazy packed in here and people are going to push this spot.”

She nods dismissively and starts typing on her phone as she wades through the crowd towards the bar. I pull my phone from my pocket and snap a picture of the stage, wanting to remember everything. Even though I’m standing by myself, the biggest smile is plastered on my face. I feel bad being here, like I’m betraying my dad and doing something I shouldn’t be doing. I feel like I’m pulling something my mom would pull. But, if I’m being completely honest, I couldn’t be happier than I am right now.

“I wouldn’t stand there if I were you,” I hear a smooth voice say in my right ear. I jump a little and turn to meet those damn honey eyes.
It’s the guy from The Box, and if it’s possible he looks even sexier than he did a few nights ago. He’s got a Bad News Love Story t-shirt hugging the deeply tanned muscles of his arms and his faded gray jeans are hanging off his hips in the most delicious way. His shaggy light brown hair is tousled and I instantly want to run my fingers through it, maybe grip just a little too tight and see how he reacts. To top it all off, he’s got the same sexy half smile that he had the other night and I instantly feel my inner thighs tighten. “It’s Kellee, right?”

I smile, trying to put on the same cocky façade I did the first time we met. I can tell he’s not used to a girl calling him on his bullshit, and I kind of like the surprised look he gets when I challenge him. “Wow, good memory. I figured you would have sang to three too many women by now to remember my name.”

He laughs, “I don’t make the ‘I’ll sing if you come home with me’ promise to just anyone, Freckles.”

I scrunch my nose up at the nickname, “You’ve referred to getting me in bed only twice now and we’re already giving nicknames? I don’t even know your
real
name.”

His eyes dazzle as he reaches for my hand, “
Tanner West.”

I smile as I take his hand in return, “Freckles Brooks, nice to officially meet you. Now, are you going to tell me why you’re stalking me?”

His sexy half grin bursts into a full blown smile, “I’m not stalking you. I haven’t missed a BNLS show since I moved to New York. And I’m being serious, you shouldn’t stand there.”

I cock my brow at him, “Are you trying to steal my spot?”

Suddenly, a loud screeching of guitar strings rings deafeningly loud in my ears and I instinctively cover them with my hands. I look to the stage and see a member of the set up crew testing the lead singer’s guitar.

I turn back to Tanner, who’s now sporting the biggest shit-eating grin I’ve seen. “Nope, just trying to save those precious eardrums of yours.”

I roll my eyes, noting now that the spot I claimed is directly in front of one of the large speakers. My phone vibrates in my pocket and I retrieve it to see a text from Trista.

- Couldn’t find you in the crowd, I’m just going to go back to the dorm. I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow? –

I curse under my breath as I type a response.

- Yeah, see you tomorrow. –

I want to scream at her in all caps, but I’ve never been a fan of confrontation and honestly I was lucky to get her to come out with me at all. Trista has been my roommate since freshman year and I consider her one of my best friends in the city, but we are two very different people. She’s very bold and brutally honest, and usually doesn’t have a problem telling anyone how it really is. I feel like I have some of the same qualities, but I have this really shitty characteristic that seems to mask it.

I’m nice.

Which I’ve been told is a good thing, but in my experience it just gets you hurt.

“Everything okay? I feel like I should save your phone from that death grip,” Tanner says, eying me with that same smile on his face.

I sigh, “Yeah, my roommate just bailed, so now I’m here alone. It’s not a big deal or anything, I was just looking forward to having her here with me so I wouldn’t be a loser standing here by myself. But whatever, it’s my first time seeing this band and they’re one of my favorites, so I’m not going to let her leaving ruin my night.”

“Well, lucky for you, I’m here,” he grabs my hand and pulls me closer to his spot, nudging a few of the guys around him to make room. “And I’m also a certified Ear Drum Lifeguard, so it’s my duty to remove you from your treasured spot there.”

I’m about to offer my rebuttal when the lights go down and the crowd starts screaming wildly. Tanner pulls me in front of him, grabbing my hips and placing my back against his chest. “You said this is your first show of theirs?”

I nod, knowing he wouldn’t hear me unless I turned around and screamed above the noise. He leans into my ear again and his hot breath on my skin sends chills cascading down my body, “Good. Consider this the first of many firsts with me.”

I swallow, and as the band takes the stage, I’ve somehow lost the ability to scream.

*     *     *

“That was incredible!” I scream, adrenaline still rushing through my veins as we spill out onto the New York City streets with the rest of the crowd. I can still feel the music pumping through me, packing my nerves full of energy.

“Yeah, they were pretty good tonight. I think that’s the best I’ve seen them play,” Tanner says calmly, smiling at what I’m sure is my outrageous bouncing-walk that I’m currently doing.

“How can you be so calm right now? I feel so alive! Like I could run a marathon!” I jog around him and spin in circles, laughing.

“
I guess we should get to work on your qualifying times, Frecks. The New York City Marathon is in just a couple of months,” he jokes, grabbing my shoulders and stopping me mid-spin. He brushes a strand of hair from my face and my erratic breathing suddenly catches in my chest. Those honey eyes are glowing in the city lights, and I instantly want to throw what Sal said out the window and move in closer. But, my gut tells me there’s trouble waiting behind those eyes.

I giggle nervously and pull back from his touch, falling in step beside him as we continue walking. “Thanks for standing with me. I can never find anyone to go to those kind of concerts with me.”

“Don’t sweat it. I’m surprised you were there, I don’t know many girls who are into the underground scene unless they were introduced by a boyfriend,” he cocks his brow at me, like he’s waiting to see if that’s exactly the case with me.

“Nope, no boyfriend influence here. I’ve loved them since I was a sophomore in high school. I would have seen them earlier, but I was always too scared to go by myself.”