screaming in excitement. There was such a flurry of activity in front of me I could not see what all the craziness was about. Was it Synister? Did he come to surprise me? That would be totally him. I smiled and felt my heart thump faster in my chest at the possibility. My arm was pulled, and my shoulder pushed as the estrogen level went through the roof. When the sea parted, I noticed a vase with a dozen red roses beside my station. No big deal, right? It was the person holding them that created all the fuss.
“Brooklyn, what’s up?” So casual. Except that every woman in the room was moist in places that you could only imagine. The words slid off the poisonous tongue of Zeke. I knew all the girls were hoping to get his number or in his pants. I just wanted to get out of here and put some distance between us. Where was Synister?
“Zeke, what are you doing here?” I leaned forward, taking the flowers. I loved every member of Push like a brother, but Zeke I trusted as far as I could throw him. He always gave me a bad vibe. I wasn't afraid of him, just that nauseous feeling that only women understood.
“He’s out in the SUV. He asked me to just leave the flowers and then get back to the car. These damn women caught me mid-drop-and-run.” Zeke smiled and gave me a pat on the back. Now this is really odd. Of all the band mates, why would Syn send Zeke in? Everyone else was most likely still partying, so Zeke would have been the only option. Ugh.
As Zeke walked to the exit, I was surprised to see that he even signed a few autographs. Out of every guy in Push, he was the one I knew the least about. He kept to himself, didn't travel with the band, just showed up before the show and for practices. Other than that—nothing, no interaction. I watched Zeke’s backside as he pushed through the door. The minute the door closed, everyone’s head turned to me, and instantly, all the noise stopped. You could have heard a pin drop.
“Okay, Brooklyn Reigns, you need to start explaining your connection to Zeke Trettin of Push and why he is bringing you flowers,” one of the girls said.
I was seriously worried they were going to hijack me if I didn’t start giving them answers.
“He’s my friend. Well, actually, he is my best friend’s friend.”
“And who would your best friend be, Brooklyn?” The voice came from the back of the room.
“Synister Smith.” Turning away from the crowd, I grabbed my black trench coat and the flowers. Mumbled Oh my God and You have got to be kidding me filled the space. Synister had to be close, and tonight, I was finally going to answer the question that he had been asking me over and over for the last two weeks since Chicago.
I had no idea that tonight would be the night, but everything was falling into place. My days of gracing the Bally’s stage with my sequins and headgear were done. A perfect ending to that chapter of my life. Push was on a mid-tour break, so Syn and I were going to get time together alone from the band and the chaos of life on the road. I had put in for a leave at work, and although I told them I only needed a week, there was an odd sense of finality the last time I swiped my card to exit the firm’s employee parking garage. I was ready for a new chapter. Synister was even thinking about buying a permanent residence in L.A. so we could chill like real people when life permitted it.
Leaning my head down, I took a long pull of the amazing scent the roses were giving off. A huge smile spread across my face. I was happy. I hadn’t been this excited about what the future held since...well, I guess I had never been this positive about what was to come.
I think the girls were all still in shock as I pushed through them and out the door. I was bitching out by dropping the Syn bomb and then bailing, but I didn’t want to explain us. Honestly, I really did not know how to explain us. What were we really? I had always hated labels, so I steered clear of calling these
“Brooklyn, what’s up?” So casual. Except that every woman in the room was moist in places that you could only imagine. The words slid off the poisonous tongue of Zeke. I knew all the girls were hoping to get his number or in his pants. I just wanted to get out of here and put some distance between us. Where was Synister?
“Zeke, what are you doing here?” I leaned forward, taking the flowers. I loved every member of Push like a brother, but Zeke I trusted as far as I could throw him. He always gave me a bad vibe. I wasn't afraid of him, just that nauseous feeling that only women understood.
“He’s out in the SUV. He asked me to just leave the flowers and then get back to the car. These damn women caught me mid-drop-and-run.” Zeke smiled and gave me a pat on the back. Now this is really odd. Of all the band mates, why would Syn send Zeke in? Everyone else was most likely still partying, so Zeke would have been the only option. Ugh.
As Zeke walked to the exit, I was surprised to see that he even signed a few autographs. Out of every guy in Push, he was the one I knew the least about. He kept to himself, didn't travel with the band, just showed up before the show and for practices. Other than that—nothing, no interaction. I watched Zeke’s backside as he pushed through the door. The minute the door closed, everyone’s head turned to me, and instantly, all the noise stopped. You could have heard a pin drop.
“Okay, Brooklyn Reigns, you need to start explaining your connection to Zeke Trettin of Push and why he is bringing you flowers,” one of the girls said.
I was seriously worried they were going to hijack me if I didn’t start giving them answers.
“He’s my friend. Well, actually, he is my best friend’s friend.”
“And who would your best friend be, Brooklyn?” The voice came from the back of the room.
“Synister Smith.” Turning away from the crowd, I grabbed my black trench coat and the flowers. Mumbled Oh my God and You have got to be kidding me filled the space. Synister had to be close, and tonight, I was finally going to answer the question that he had been asking me over and over for the last two weeks since Chicago.
I had no idea that tonight would be the night, but everything was falling into place. My days of gracing the Bally’s stage with my sequins and headgear were done. A perfect ending to that chapter of my life. Push was on a mid-tour break, so Syn and I were going to get time together alone from the band and the chaos of life on the road. I had put in for a leave at work, and although I told them I only needed a week, there was an odd sense of finality the last time I swiped my card to exit the firm’s employee parking garage. I was ready for a new chapter. Synister was even thinking about buying a permanent residence in L.A. so we could chill like real people when life permitted it.
Leaning my head down, I took a long pull of the amazing scent the roses were giving off. A huge smile spread across my face. I was happy. I hadn’t been this excited about what the future held since...well, I guess I had never been this positive about what was to come.
I think the girls were all still in shock as I pushed through them and out the door. I was bitching out by dropping the Syn bomb and then bailing, but I didn’t want to explain us. Honestly, I really did not know how to explain us. What were we really? I had always hated labels, so I steered clear of calling these
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