Jen vigorously shakes her head. “Not happening. I’m not some band aide from Almost Famous. I’m a professional photographer who did you a favor; believe me, my generosity has been stretched to the max in regards to this band.” Her eyes slide to mine as she enunciates the last bit of her sentence. I take the hint. It’s not that she’s done with the band, she’s doesn’t want to have to deal with me.

Fuck that. I can’t let this opportunity slip through our fingers just because neither of us knows how to handle our attraction for each other. While I turn into a bumbling idiot who is one glue lick away from being required to use safety scissors and wear a teddy bear harness backpack, she wants to scare me away as a way to avoid it altogether. I refuse to let her intimidate me. I plan to chisel away at her frozen exterior, one ice chip at a time.

“Jen, can I speak to you alone for a minute?” I ask her. Somehow, I have to convince her we both can be professional and put whatever it is between us on the back burner or extinguish it entirely. She looks at me like I’ve grown two heads. She rolls her whisky brown eyes before sliding out of the booth to stand next to me. The guys move out of our way and she ushers me to lead her away from everyone.

The place is beginning to fill up, so finding a quiet space to talk is nearly impossible. I lead her toward the parking lot, where I at least know we won’t be interrupted. I look back at the guys to signal to them I’ll get everything smoothed out. Royce once again proves himself the king of the dickheads as he dry humps the air. John notices and pushes him back into the booth.

“Oh yeah, how tempting. I can’t wait to join the ranks,” she sneers after witnessing the immature Royce-ism. Yes, we’ve actually named the stupid shit he does; Royce-ism is all we could come up with to cover all of his moments which embarrass the hell out of us.

I don’t answer her. Instead, I lightly place my hand on the small of her back and push her toward the exit. The thin, soft fabric of her cotton dress snags on my callused hand, but I refuse to move away from her. I want to savor this small, physical moment, as it might be the only one I ever get.

When we hit cool air and the open space of the outside, she moves away from me to gain some distance. She veers in the direction of her car, but I grab her hand and pull her toward my truck. She looks at me somewhat conflicted, but continues to follow me.

My truck is parked in the back half of the lot; it’s my baby and I don’t trust the parking skills of the rest of society to not scratch it. I always take extra precautions when it comes to Nelly. Nelly is a black 1956 Ford truck I found at a junkyard, rusted out and missing most of her parts. It took several years and a lot of money, but she is now completely restored.

“Holy shit!” she gasps. “How does a starving musician afford a truck like this?” she asks when we arrive at Nelly.

“I get that a lot,” I smirk. “I said I was a musician, but I never said I was starving,” I tell her as she walks around the truck, admiring each polished and waxed piece until she meets me at the driver’s side door.

“Oh, I get it. You’re a spoiled rich kid who has chosen to follow his artistic talents instead of the family business,” she huffs. The comment couldn’t be further from the truth, and it rubs me the wrong way considering her own upbringing.

I lean up against the side of the truck, careful not to scratch the pristine paint job. “Actually no,” I explain. “I was raised by my grandmother on food stamps in a single-wide trailer. I invested what little money I was making once I left home and I did well for myself. I play guitar because I love it. Don’t take this the wrong way, but isn’t that kind of the pot calling the kettle?”

Her back stiffens and I raise my hands up in surrender. “I don’t mean to piss you off, Jen. It just seems pretty shitty to knock me for possibly having money growing up, when I know you did.”

“Yes, I had money, Casen,” she admits, placing her hands on her hips. “However, while you earned your fortune probably with the support of your family, when I graduated college I walked away from mine. What I have, I earned on my own.”

“You know, we really aren’t too different from one another. If you weren’t so busy protecting the saddle on that high horse of yours, you would see that.”

“High horse? High horse? I’ve only been reacting to your self-absorbed, arrogant comments which you’ve continuously whirled at me since we met. If anyone has been sabotaging any kind of working relationship, it’s you,” she spits back.

If I think about our few encounters, half of the time it was me who egged her on and acted in a manner, which resembled pulling a girl’s pigtails on the playground.

“I think we are both at fault, yet I also think there is no reason you can’t take the job. We’re grown-ups, and it’s not like you are going to follow us around like some stalker fan. You’ll show up to gigs, take some pictures, and go home…just like any other photo shoot.”

She begins to mull over her options and, no doubt, her thoughts about me. She then starts moving closer to me, jabbing her finger toward me with each step. “I’m not hanging out with your groupies; I will not photograph any of them. And if you guys, i.e. Royce, can’t keep it decent around me I swear on your shriveled dick I’ll quit.”

Her tirade leaves her only centimeters from me, and I feel her toned body rub against mine with every breath she takes. Her coconut lotion smells so good, I want nothing more than to live in her scent. Towering over her tiny frame, I struggle with my desire to pick her up and spread her out across the hood of Nelly. As much as I want to, I realize it will only complicate our working relationship. Until the tour is over, it’s essential to remain friendly yet contained. Before I commit to my new hands-off policy, I need to send her a similar message. When I see her eyes bounce from my eyes to my lips, I know I have the green light to send my message.

I quickly pull her hips toward me and spin her up against the driver’s side door. She is taken completely by surprise, but I crash my lips onto hers before she can say or do anything to stop me. Her lips are soft and when I demand more from her she obliges. I grip onto the back of her dress, bunching the fabric in my strong grasp to hold her in place, putting everything I have into this kiss, hoping it will be the first of more to come after the tour.

When I feel her begin to lose to control and melt into me, I quickly pull away. “I don’t know why you would think I wouldn’t want more of that, but for now you can pretend you don’t want me either,” I whisper in her ear. I lightly kiss her neck just behind her ear, spin her around, and climb into my truck. I reverse, leaving her there dumbfounded, standing wobbly-legged in the parking lot. I can’t help but grin at achieving the task of flustering Jen to the point of both confusion and excitement. I only hope her anticipation wins out in the end.

Casen

“I think I’m going to throw up,” Seiger announces as he rushes through the dressing room to get to the staging area.

John is oblivious with his headphones on. He’s been drumming on every hard surface he can find for the past hour. He needs to get ahold of his nerves before we’re forced to use a back-up drummer. He won’t be able to perform with us because he’ll be too busy dislodging the drumstick I’m going to shove up his ass.

Royce strolls into the room while passing Seiger in the doorway, offering a look of confusion. “I don’t know what his problem is,” he says to me once he’s in the dressing room and seated on the table with what little food and drinks have been offered by the venue. It’s usually not much, just a package of bottled water, a few pieces of fruit, and a box of whatever cookies were on sale at the local grocery store bakery. Tonight is no different, but to Royce, this is a feast. Whatever is leftover at the end of the night will be packed in his backpack and taken home to fill his cupboards until the next gig…yeah he’s that guy. You should see him at hotels. It’s embarrassing, the man takes everything but the remote and towels.