Loving Dallas - Caisey Quinn Page 0,79
because she felt sorry for my sad-sack ass.”
“Damn.”
“Well, I mean, she might want me. Most women do.”
I roll my eyes. Then nod at the brunette stealing obvious glances our way. “I guess I can see that.”
“Naw, man. They don’t give a fuck about me. They don’t even know me. They see the fame and the publicity and a chance to rub up against me in hopes some of that will rub off onto them.”
He stands, jerks his chin in a clear signal to his new friend to leave the group she’s with and head our way. She does, as if he’s yanked an invisible string.
“Then why do you do it?”
He scoffs like it’s a dumb question. Maybe it is. But then he shrugs and something about his expression is hollow and makes me feel almost sorry for him. Strange, since the brunette is bringing a friend over and I know he already got laid once tonight.
“When you lose the only person who actually matters, you realize the rest of it is just physical gratification. Life is short. You have to find what happiness you can while you can. Otherwise you’re just existing instead of living. And who wants to sit around with old-man balls knowing he sat out his chance to live?” He dips his head toward my shot glass. “You’ve got your way of numbing the pain, I’ve got mine.”
He offers his arms to the two women and they take them with matching smiles. The black-haired one with blond shot through like streaks of lightning turns to me. “You coming too, handsome?”
Before I can answer, Jase shakes his head. “Nah. He’s nursing some serious heartbreak tonight and he’s six sheets in the wind. He probably wouldn’t be able to get it up anyway.”
I kick out a leg but catch his stool with my boot instead of him.
“Too bad,” she says as Jase leads them away.
I turn around on my stool and stare at my newly refilled shot glass, placing one of my hands over the other and resting my chin on them.
Touring with Jase Wade is like getting a glimpse into my future. Where all that awaits me is arenas full of screaming fans and nights filled with meaningless sex.
It used to sound pretty damn appealing, once upon at time. It might still if I hadn’t gone on another tour just before this.
Touring with Afton Tate on the unsigned artists tour, I saw him turn down women, record labels, managers, and even big-name producers that most guys would have given their left nut to work with. On one of the nights when I joined him for a beer at a dive we’d played at I asked him why he kept shutting everyone down.
“I shut the women down because they aren’t interested in me, not really. They’re interested in what I can do for them, what my reputation and my name will mean when they can attach it to the story of hooking up with me. It isn’t real, and I don’t have time or energy for shit that isn’t real.”
It made sense. I’d nodded along. “Yeah, okay. So what about the managers and the producers? They just want to fuck you, too?”
He looked at me like I’d said something amusing. “Pretty much. They want me to leave my band, tell guys who’ve sacrificed just as much as I have and who are just as talented and driven if not more so, to take a hike so I can be the star of their bullshit show. I’d be a hell of a lot easier to manipulate on my own, without these guys having my back.”
His words had struck a chord in me, one that had been exposed since I’d left Dixie and Gavin behind to pursue this alone.
“You’re a more honorable man than I,” I told him. “Most people wouldn’t care so long as it meant they got what they wanted.”
“Most people include you?”
I’d shrugged like it wasn’t twisting my guts to hell and back to talk about. “I’d rather have my sister and my drummer with me, yeah. But it just wasn’t the way it worked out.”
Afton had stared off into the distance for a long time, watching some girl duo perform onstage before he spoke. “Maybe that’s why I’m struggling to accept anyone else’s input on my career. I’m too much of a control freak to let it just work itself out. I’m willing to work for it until I get it right.”
That brief exchange was still jammed