Love Resolution

Marcus gave Avery a quick shuttered glance as he stormed into the cluttered dressing room. They weren’t even past the first stop on the tour and already there were problems.

Bryan Jackson.

Shit.

Just about what he had expected, though. Avery was young and beautiful, and that alone was enough to make guys like Jackson gun for her. Add in her talent and rock star status, and it was going to be a full time job keeping her his.

He tossed his cell onto the makeup counter before turning back to face her. His visage was dark.

“What’s wrong?” Avery took a step back. “Are you ok?”

“Effing fantastic. Just great.”

Someone banged on the door. Trevor stuck his head in the room. “Ten minutes, guys.”

“Ok,” Avery acknowledged with a tense nod. “We’ll be there in a minute.”

“He’s just a local guy, Marcus.” Trevor paused, mouth twisting into a grimace. “He has very few followers. He’s not worth worrying about.”

“I know!” Marcus cut him off. “You told me already.” He worked to level his tone. “I don’t want to discuss it anymore. I’ve got a show to put on.” His gaze flicked to Avery. “I need a minute to regroup, but I can tell you I feel less than enthusiastic about going out there right now.”

“He’s just one of those guys trying to make a name for himself by trashing someone else.” Trevor continued while taking off his wire rimmed glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Haters like him only bring themselves down.”

“Marcus, what happened?” Avery asked.

“Nothing,” he lied and pulled off his t-shirt.

“Ok. You tell me then,” she said turning to Trevor, worry pinching the outer corners of her eyes.

“Just a music blogger being a real a*shole. Asking Marcus some real asinine questions, insinuating that he was just using you to revive a stalled career. Outrageous crap, clearly designed to make Marcus lose his temper.”

She frowned.

Trevor’s phone beeped. “Sorry, I gotta go get JR and Dwight. You two have three minutes,” he warned before leaving.

Avery turned back toward him as he was fastening the last two buttons on his shirt. She took a seat on the worn vinyl sofa beside him. She threaded both her arms around him and laid her head on his chest.

“I’m sorry about the interview,” she said softly.

He knew he should take the comfort she was offering, stroke her silky hair, maybe even run a finger along the top edge of the teal kimono top that barely covered the swell of her shapely breasts, but he was just too mad. The thought of anyone doubting how much he loved Avery pissed him off.

“It’s time.” Trevor stuck his head back in the room.

“Let’s go.” He untangled her arms from around his waist and stood.

“Alright,” she whispered, giving him a worried side glance as they exited the dressing room and followed Trevor. They moved quickly, winding their way through the throngs of people moving up and down the busy corridor. Dwight, Sam, and JR were already waiting for them when they reached the stage.

“Finally.” Dwight gave a relieved sigh.

“Cutting it a little close, don’t you think?” JR quipped with tawny brows raised.

Marcus gave him the finger.

“Don’t let that stupid blogger get under your skin, little brother.” Dwight clapped him on the back. “It’s just the same old bullshit every time. Tear someone else down to build yourself up.”

“I know. I know,” Marcus growled. “I’m trying to get it out of my head, but everyone keeps wanting to bring it up again.” He stretched his arm back for Avery’s hand, but she wasn’t there. Where he finally spotted her didn’t do anything to improve his mood. She was standing next to a stack of back up amps conversing with that blasted Tempest guitarist. To add insult to injury the dude was shirtless, wearing leather pants that hung so low that his hip bones stuck out.

When Jackson leaned in and touched one of Avery’s silver chandelier earrings, Marcus’ jaw clenched. He was gonna kill the bastard.

“Marcus,” Dwight said firmly, putting a hand on his shoulder and glancing over at Bryan. “I don’t think the guy means anything by it.” He gestured toward a line of scantily clad women that were milling around backstage. “Tempest’s got a slew of groupies waiting on them. And even if he did want Avery, it’d be a one sided deal. She’s totally into you. Just look at her. Even while she’s over there talking to him, her eyes are on you.”

Marcus grunted in response.

“Nice of you to come join us,” he said, when Avery returned, words writhing with sarcasm.

Her brow puckered.

At that moment, the entire arena grew quiet.

“How are you doing tonight, Seattle,” Trevor asked, speaking into the mic from onstage. The audience responded by whistling and clapping their enthusiasm at an ear splitting decibel level.

“Shit!” Marcus cursed. There wasn’t time for the group’s ritualistic huddle. “We’re on.” He made a quick cursory examination of the group, frowning when his gaze stopped on Avery. “Where the hell’s your guitar?” he bellowed.

Avery spun around, almost tripping over the guitar tech that stood there. He handed over the black Ibanez. “Thanks,” she muttered, her wounded expression making Marcus feel like a total douche.

She moved past him without another word.

Crap, Marcus thought. He stepped up behind her and gave her shoulder an apologetic squeeze, but she didn’t acknowledge it.