More to Us Read online

  "Then I'll share them with Austin." Van points to a stack of bar napkins in Dylan's guitar case. "We'll divvy them up after the show."

  "Not interested," I say.

  "Why not? Did that girl finally agree to go out with you?"

  "No. She left right after we started playing."

  "She didn't like our music, or what?"

  "I think she might be pissed at me for not telling her I was in the band."

  "You should've told her," Dylan says, sinking into the brown leather couch that's across from the door. It's beat to hell with scratch marks all over it and cigarette burns. "Girls get pissed about that shit. Even guys do. I hate it when girls lie to me."

  "It wasn't really a lie. I just didn't mention I was in the band. You really think that's why she left?"

  "Hell if I know," Van says, tapping his empty water bottle on his leg. "I don't understand women. I don't even understand this idiot." He kicks Dylan's foot. "What's wrong with you man? Why are you acting all depressed? Everyone loved your song."

  "I'm not depressed," he mutters.

  "Van's right," I say, noticing the somber look on Dylan's face. "You seem depressed. What's going on?"

  He blows out a breath and rubs his face. "It's stupid."

  "What's stupid?" I ask, sitting next to him.

  "If I tell you guys this," he looks at me, then Van, "neither one of you laughs at me or I'll kick your asses."

  "Yeah, okay," I say.

  He waits for Van to agree to it, but Van puts his hands up. "I can't promise you that. I wouldn't be me if I didn't give you shit. And besides, you deserve it after giving me grief over the lyrics I write after a breakup." He puts his hand over his heart. "I'm baring my soul, man, and you just stomp all over it." He fakes a frown and then laughs.

  I ignore him and focus on Dylan. "Just tell us."

  Dylan sighs. "Fine." He shakes his head. "I know it's stupid, but I wanted her to be here tonight. And I had this strange feeling that she would be."

  "I thought you said she moved to New York," Van says.

  "She did, but she could've come back to visit. Maybe she has family here. I wouldn't know because she wouldn't tell me anything about herself."

  "So you're depressed because she's not here?" I ask.

  "I told you it was stupid. And what's even more stupid is that I actually felt like she really was here. Like I could feel her presence, but I think I was just feeling her through the song."

  "Damn, this girl really messed you up," Van says. "Is that why you haven't hooked up with anyone since you did it with her?"

  "You haven't had sex since May?" I ask, unable to hide the shock in my voice. As lead singer, Dylan gets a lot of girls offering to have sex with him.

  "No," he mutters.

  "You've been on a lot of dates since then," I say.

  "Yeah, but I didn't let them get that far."

  "Shit, I had no idea. So why are you holding out for this girl? She doesn't live here anymore, and you don't even know her last name."

  He stares at me. "Sound familiar? You're obsessing about some girl you met for like a minute."

  "That's true," Van says. "What the hell's wrong with you guys?"

  "I don't know," I say, more to myself than them. I have no idea why I'm so desperate to see that girl again. She showed no interest in dating me, and now she's probably mad at me, and yet I still want to see her again.

  We finish up at the bar, then go get something to eat. After that, Van and Dylan head back to their house and I go to mine. It's not really mine. It's my dad's house. I still live here. I need to get my own place but I haven't gotten around to it.

  "How'd it go?" my dad asks, startling me. It's two in the morning so I thought he was in bed. He's sitting in the living room with just a single light on, reading a magazine.

  "You scared the shit out of me." I sit on the couch. "What are you doing up this late?"

  "I had to review some contracts that have to go out tomorrow. I didn't finish up until ten. I had a late dinner and now I have heartburn. I took something, but I'm waiting for it to kick in."

  My dad works too much. So do my brothers. Wheeler Construction is growing so fast that we have more business than we can handle. I should be working more than I do and I feel guilty that I'm not, but if I did, I wouldn't have time for the band.

  "You shouldn't be working that late," I say. "It's not good for you."

  "The work had to get done and I've already got your brothers working overtime."

  "I could take on some more hours."

  He shakes his head. "I don't want you doing more hours of construction. It's hard on the body, even for someone in as good a shape as you." He sets his magazine down. "But I did want to talk to you about being more involved in the business."

  "Oh, yeah? Like how?"

  "I know you're not interested in sales or negotiating contracts, but I think you'd be a big help on the marketing side."

  "I don't know anything about marketing."

  "You don't need a degree in it. You're already good at it. You've promoted your band to the point that almost everyone in Chicago knows who you are."

  "Not everyone," I mumble, thinking of Kira.

  "What?"

  "Nothing. I'm just saying that it wasn't just me who promoted the band. Dylan does most of our promotions."

  "Austin, don't sell yourself short. That benefit concert you put on for Ivy's father was a huge success and you did all that yourself."

  Last spring, I organized a concert featuring local bands to raise money for Ivy's dad who needed help paying his medical bills. We thought maybe a hundred people would show up, but we ended up with almost a thousand and raised a ton of money.

  "So what do you want me to do?"

  "Come up with some events for the fall and next year. I'd like us to do some more charity events. Give back to the community. I'd rather get our name out there that way than with TV and radio ads. We can talk more about it later, but just give it some thought."

  This isn't just an idea he's tossing out there. He wants me to do it. He keeps hinting for me to get more involved in the company, but so far I haven't agreed to it. Although he hasn't come out and said it, I know he wants me to spend less time on my music. He's always supported my decision to be in the band, but he sees it as a hobby. In his mind, construction should always come first and the band second. But I'm not sure I see it that way. Right now, construction pays my bills and I don't mind doing it, but I'd like to at least try to make our band be something more than just a hobby.

  He yawns and gets up from the chair. "I need to get to bed. I have to be up at five."

  "That's only a few hours sleep. You need more than that."

  "I could say the same about you." He smiles as he gets up from his chair. "Goodnight."

  "Goodnight."

  For the most part, my dad and I get along well, which is why I don't mind living here. But he does have rules, like no bringing girls home for the night. That's one reason why I need to move out. A big reason.

  I go to bed and a few hours later I hear my dad getting up for work. I go back to sleep because I have the morning off. I'm working for Nash this week but he called last night and said I didn't need to be there until noon. Something about the supplies we needed not being delivered on time.

  At ten, I head to the gym. I go to one across town because I know the owner and he gives me a deal. I like that it's a local gym and not one of the big chains. I also like that it's not a meat market. You don't see girls wearing skimpy outfits parading themselves in front of guys. The people who go here are serious about working out. It's not fancy. It's no frills. It has the equipment I need and it's never too crowded. It's basically the perfect gym for me, which is why it's worth the drive.

  "Hey, Austin," Mike says as I pick up my water bottle. He comes over to me at the weight bench. I just finished working my arms and chest. My muscles ache but in a good way, a way that proves I've worked my body to fatigue.
r />   "Hey," I say. "You're late today."

  Mike is one of the trainers here. He usually lifts weights before work, around six or six-thirty. We got to be friends when I was in high school and used to do early morning workouts. Now I have to fit in workouts around my construction job and gigs with the band.

  "One of my clients had to meet early," he says, "so I moved my schedule around." He walks over to me. "You ever thought about being a trainer? We're looking for someone to hire."

  "I can't." I grab a towel from the stack by the water cooler. "Between the band and my job, I barely have time to sleep."

  "You get commission on each client and you wouldn't have to take on a lot of clients to start."

  "I'll give it some thought," I say, but I'm not really interested. I like working out, but I don't want to train someone else. Being a trainer isn't easy. I've seen Mike training some of the guys here. They always think they know more than him so don't follow his instructions and then get mad when they don't see results.

  "It's a good way to meet girls." Mike smiles at me as he grabs a towel. "But I guess you don't need any help in that area."

  He glances at a girl on the treadmill who's smiling at me. She's here a lot and we've talked a few times but I have no interest in going out with her. She's one of those girls who's all muscle, no curves, and she's way too thin. She doesn't even look healthy.

  Mike takes off for the free weights while I fill my water bottle at the cooler. Throughout the week, I alternate working my upper and lower body. Today was upper body, so I'm done and heading to work soon. As I'm drinking my water, my eyes catch a flash of orange shorts as a girl darts around one of the weight machines to adjust it. She's bent over so I can't see her, except for her legs, which are tan and shapely and solid muscle. She stands up, her back to me, and moves her neck side to side. She's wearing a white tank top, the kind girls work out in, with narrow straps at the top and a stretchy fabric that clings to her body. My eyes go to her bare shoulders and arms which look strong, her muscles flexing as she adjusts her long dark hair in her ponytail.

  She's facing the wall but takes a step back and leans forward, placing her hands against the wall as she stretches the back of her legs. Seeing her bent over like that, her tight round ass on display, I feel a twitch in my shorts. I glance over at the TVs suspended above the treadmills and take a drink of water. I'm dying to look back at the girl but I promised myself I wouldn't be one of those guys who stares at girls at the gym.

  I hear the weights clank and a girl's voice say "shit." I glance back at the girl and see her trying to adjust the machine, her head down.

  I walk over to her. "Need some help?"

  "Maybe. I was trying to—" She stops as her head lifts and she sees it's me.

  It's that girl. The one from the bar last night. Kira. What's she doing at my gym? Out of all the gyms in Chicago, she joins this one? A small, local, no-frills gym? I can't help but smile. I never thought I'd see her again, and here she is, lifting weights at my gym, looking hotter than hell in those orange workout shorts and that skimpy white tank. Underneath it is an orange sports bra that matches her shorts. Normally a sports bra flattens a girl's chest, but not this one. This one pushes up her breasts and creates some nice cleavage which I have a good view of because I'm about a foot taller than her.

  "So...we meet again." I toss my towel over my shoulder and lean against the weight machine next to hers.

  She's staring at me, a shocked look on her face. "You belong to this gym?" She doesn't sound happy about it.

  "Yeah. I have for the past five years."

  "Great," she mumbles to herself. She turns back to her machine. "Well, enjoy your workout."

  I go around the machine and face her. "You trying to get rid of me?"

  She looks up at me, a scowl on her face that I find to be more cute than angry. "I don't like players, so I'd appreciate it if you'd just go away."

  "Player? I'm not a player."

  She puts her hands on her hips. "Then what the hell was last night? Why did you lie to me? You introduce yourself, I ask you about the band, and you don't even bother to tell me you're in it?"

  "That doesn't make me a player. And I didn't lie to you. I told you I like their music and that I went to all their concerts. All true." I smile, trying to make a joke of it because that's all it was supposed to be. I was just kidding around, but I guess she didn't take it that way because she seems really mad.

  "I don't know what kind of game you were playing but it wasn't funny. I felt like an idiot. I told my friends I met this guy named Austin and they said you were in the band and I kept insisting you weren't. You know how stupid I felt not knowing?"

  "You told your friends about me?" I'm trying to be serious like Kira is, but I have to smile at the fact she told her friends about me after meeting me for just a few minutes. I did the same thing, telling Dylan and Van about her. I never tell them about a girl I like until I'm actually dating her. Otherwise I have to deal with hearing their stupid comments or advice. But for some reason, I felt the need to tell them about Kira.

  She huffs. "I only told them about you because they asked if I talked to anyone while I was waiting for them. I told them this nice guy got me a table, but that was before I knew you lied to me." She goes to pull the pin out of the weights but it's stuck so she tugs on it repeatedly.

  "Hey." I hold her wrist, stopping her. "I AM a nice guy. I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was in the band. You're right. I should've told you."

  She glances at my hand on her wrist and pulls it back, placing it at her side. "Then why didn't you?"

  "Because when you said you didn't know who I was, I was surprised. And relieved. Every girl I meet knows I'm part of Vandyl and sometimes I wonder if that's the only reason they talk to me, or want to go out with me."

  She rolls her eyes. "Seriously? You really think that's the only reason?" Her eyes move down my body, then back up at my face. "Have you looked in a mirror lately?"

  "What? Because I have muscles? That doesn't mean anything. A lot of guys work out." I motion to the free weights where there are at least five guys as big as me lifting weights.

  Her eyes go to them, then back to me. "Yeah, it's uh, not quite the same."

  "And why is that?" I try to be serious, but knowing she thinks I'm hotter than those other guys makes me smile.

  She rolls her eyes again. "I'm not going to stand here and give you compliments. The bottom line is that you lied to me last night and made me feel like an idiot in front of my friends." She turns away and sits on the machine next to the one she was trying to use. It's the lat press but when she goes to use it, she realizes she forgot to adjust the weight. It's set with two hundred and forty pounds which is probably twice what she weighs.

  I reach behind her and take the pin out of the weights. "What do you want it at?"

  She sighs. "Sixty."

  I replace the pin, then come around in front of her. "I'm sorry, okay? I really am. The only reason I didn't tell you is because I liked the fact that you didn't know who I was. I wasn't lying when I said that I'm never sure if a girl really likes me for me, or because I'm in a band. So when I realized you didn't know, I wanted to keep it going and see if you'd go out with me because you like me, not because I'm in a band." I smile. "I knew you weren't interested in me just for my body because it was dark so you couldn't see all this." I motion to myself.

  She finally smiles, but just barely. "I could see it."

  I lean back against the machine behind me and cross my arms over my chest. "So you're saying you only talked to me because of how I look?"

  "Yep." She faces forward and does another rep, her arm and shoulder muscles flexing. I love this girl's body. Strong and lean, yet soft and curvy in all the right places.

  "That's really shallow," I say, moving in front of her. "I gotta say, I'm a little offended."

  She laughs. "Yeah, I'm sure you are. Now would you move please?"

  I stay where I'm at, facing h
er, my feet planted right in front of hers. "You've got plenty of space. Full range of motion."

  She extends her arms again, breathing through the move. "Maybe I don't want you standing there while I'm trying to lift weights."

  Her eyes are on mine as she does another rep. She has gorgeous eyes, a deep brown with flecks of gold. And her mouth. I love her lips. With each rep, my eyes go to those lips as she forces out a breath. I feel another twitch in my shorts. Damn, I need to stop looking at her or the twitch is going to be a lot more than that and I'll embarrass myself.

  "Go out with me," I blurt out.

  "What?" she asks, her arms fully extended in the move.

  "Go out with me." I say it again because it's already out there and I know she heard me the first time. "Just once. Dinner. Coffee. Whatever you want."

  "No," she says as she brings her arms back, completing the move.

  She turned me down. Again.

  What's the deal with this girl? She admitted she's attracted to me, so why won't she go out with me?

  Chapter Six

  Kira

  "Then don't think of it as a date," Austin says. "Think of it as an apology for not telling you I was in the band. I'll take you to dinner."

  "You already apologized. You don't have to take me to dinner." I continue on the lat press but I've lost count of my reps. My muscles are starting to ache but I keep the motion going to distract me from Austin, who I've now decided is the hottest guy I've ever seen, at least in person. Last night in the bar, I couldn't really see him that well, but now, in the bright light of the gym, I'm able to get a good look at him, and holy crap, he's hot. Every part of him is ripped muscle, and unfortunately, I have a weakness for guys with muscles, which is why I'm focusing on the weights and not him.

  "If you're accepting my apology," he says, "then why are you so against going out with me? It doesn't have to be a date. We can just go out as friends."

  "I already have a friend. Amber. She's also my roommate."

  "And you're only allowed to have one friend? You can't have another?" He smiles and my eyes get caught on his smooth perfect lips and those straight white teeth. As if the muscles weren't enough. He has to have a perfect smile. And beautiful blue eyes. And of course he hasn't shaved yet today, so there's a sexy layer of stubble covering his rugged face.