Rock Me

Chapter Six

Sophia:

Once everyone fell asleep, I snuck into the bathroom amid the chorus of snores to call Elias. He was getting ready for breakfast when I got through to him; his smile, his tooth-pasty smile, healed my hurting heart. But it wasn't a call that could last, and after telling him I loved him to the point of annoying him, I went back to the kitchen, cooked breakfast, and then cleaned up the mess. I hadn't slept yet; I wasn't sure I could or would today. My mind felt so full, my anxiety had ramped up to ten, and even sitting here drinking coffee in the silence was not enough to ease the shaking of my hands or the stuttering of my heart. I couldn't help but wonder if I had made the right choice on my and Elias's part. I knew it was the right choice for Logan. But, realizing that I didn't hate Toby the way I wanted to and getting these mixed feelings from Wit on top of it all… I felt… stupid.

"You're an early bird." I smiled at Weston's sunny complexion even this early.

"Night owl." I corrected, fighting the urge to laugh when he tilted his head like the golden retriever he reminds me of.

"Early bird would imply that I had slept, which I did not," I answered his question with his eyes, making him sit down.

"You should get some sleep. I'll start the morning shift." It took me all of two seconds to realize he thought I hadn't slept because I stayed up to watch Logan. It wasn't.

"It wasn't Logan. He slept through the night. I guess I am just on bar time." I stood, making Weston a plate as he rubbed his elbow and shoulder, still strapped in a sling. When I sat the quinoa bowl down in front of him, it took him less than two seconds to rip into it, moaning and groaning with every bite of the sautéed kale, boiled egg, and avocado while I made the other three their bowls and sat it around the little table.

"What is this?" he asked, taking in the last bite of the fluffy quinoa.

"I'm sure you would rather not know," I chuckled, making him look at the empty bowl and then back at me with fear in his eyes.

"Not poisoned," I shrugged, drinking more of the coffee. I was determined not to let go cold. Would you mind waking the others?" I asked, smirking when he reluctantly did as I asked.

In minutes, the others, sleepy-headed and dragging, were shoving their faces full with the same reactions Weston had.

After they were finished, Toby did the dishes while the others got ready, and then they cleaned up the bus while Toby dressed. Again, I was back to feeling like a stranger, and along with the anxiety rattling me, it felt like too much to face right now. I didn't have the time to figure it out right now.

"What time are we starting sound check? Kayla is meeting me there, and we will head out after the show tonight." Weston asked Logan, who looked at Toby.

"Five," Toby answered Weston while drying his shaggy brown hair. His muscled back, still wet, flexed. The tattoos covering it dance with each move. He was mouthwatering.

"Are you coming to sound check?" Wit asked, and I knew why. They were worried Logan would act out, and likely, he would without me there.

"Yep." I smiled, trying to appreciate the first person to speak to me since everyone thanked me for breakfast.

"Good, thank you." He grabbed my coffee cup, got me a refill, and twirled the braid he had given me last night before joining the others in discussing tonight's show.

Toby looked back at me; I could see the jealousy burning in his eyes over how Wit had twirled my hair.

Before I could take another drink of the coffee Wit had just poured for me, Weston walked over, took it from me, and gave it to Toby. He greedily took the first drink from it with a smile. Without explanation, he went back to talking to the others.

"You need to sleep," Toby spoke without looking my way.

"I'm fine, rea—" He stood, stalking over to me like a bear, lowering his face so close to mine I couldn't help but swallow hard as his lips near my ear.

"I know you didn't sleep last night. You won't be able to keep an eye on Logan at the show tonight if you are exhausted." He paused but never moved.

"Fine," I grumbled.

"Good. Go into the back. I'll ensure you aren't disturbed." He said as he pulled away from me. "Cute braids." He said just low enough no one would hear him, twirling the opposite one around his finger just like Wit had.

Quickly, I turned, shoving my shaking hands into my jogger pockets before fleeing into the back. I don't know what surprised me more, how quickly I fell asleep once my head hit the pillow or how being back around them for one whole day had already dragged up a dream, a memory of a time I had long tried to forget.

I rubbed the tips of my fingers to work away the soreness.

After practicing, my fingers always burned.

My head ached from the countless hours of studying.

So, I dragged myself up the stairs, across the carpet, and into my room.

I lay before the fireplace, letting the heat warm my toes. I sighed when my brother's fun and heavy music vibrated through my vent.

It was one of his faster, more joyful songs.

While all their music is excellent, I liked the darker, more emotional ones best.

The ones that made the constant flow of music run freely in my mind, like a dam with open gates.

I listened intently until one of those songs began playing, and I let myself sink into it until it felt like I had somehow become a part of it.

"How cool would that sound if Daniel could actually play drums?" I spoke into my empty room.

It's always empty.

I've been homeschooled through middle and high school, and because of that, I spend all my time studying and playing cello.

I am my father's most incredible creation.

A sacrifice that I make so Logan can live normally without my father's obsessions that would lead to him rotting away on the inside… rotting away just like I am now.

When Logan formed his band, Dad let him go back to school. He needed to grow an audience, make friends, and find a scene for his music. Not me. I needed to be sculpted into the perfect little robot.

I dozed off in the warmth of my fireplace, in the freedom of their music, only to be interrupted when Logan barged in as usual.

"Dad said I can't go to Dalton's party if you don't go." I could tell he didn't want to invite me, but I couldn't hide my excitement. The only times I see people my age is when Dad forces me on Logan.

"Can I? I promise I won't be a bother." I asked quietly with a soft smile and pleading eyes.

Logan looked around my door frame into the hall. He was clearly getting the approval from Toby and Wit.

My palms started sweating when they agreed.

I should have known they would be going. They go everywhere together. Some part of me had hoped Toby wouldn't be. I thought he had to work at the shop. But I heard him say it was good with him, making my stomach churn.

Maybe I should stay home.

"Get dressed, Soph. Make it quick." I saw the way the girls they brought here were dressed.

I don't have clothes like that, so I changed into sweats, a tank top, and a hoodie—the best I could do on short notice. I was running down the stairs, slipping on my sneakers, when they all turned to look at me. Each one of them was dressed to impress.

"Wow, Soph… you look." Logan was trying to be friendly, a sentiment I appreciated.

"Like Adam Sandler? Yeah, I know." I chuckled, sticking my hands into the hoodie pocket.

Everyone but the girls laughed. They just looked baffled that I would go out dressed like this.

"It works. At least you'll be warm," Toby said before he handed me a helmet for his bike, which caused my throat to shut off.

"Yeah, sorry, Soph. My car is full, and Dad said yours was still in the shop.

"Okay," I croaked, earning another smile from Toby, who stepped out the front door.

I have had a big, fat crush on Toby since he moved across the street when I was six. I have always been fascinated by him.

I am fascinated by his rebellion and the lyrics he writes for my brother's band. All of him fascinates me, and knowing I was riding as his backpack tonight had me shaking. I had thought about it often but never thought it would be more than that… a thought… a daydream.

"Ready?" He asked while I took my hair down to fit the helmet properly.

"Are you sure I'm not to..." I tried hard to strengthen my voice, but my heart, sitting in my throat, wouldn't let me. I couldn't turn my lips to form the simple three-letter word.

"What?" He looked at me oddly, his brows turned in confusion.

He was going to make me say it.

"Fat, Toby. Am I too big?"

"Get on the bike, Sophia." He growled. The sound of my name rolling from his lips had my voice lodging in my throat so tightly I could only nod.

Slowly, very awkwardly, I put my hands on his ribs, fighting the urge to run back to my room when he laughed at me.

The feeling of his laughter in my palms and his body moving beneath my fingers kept me seated.

"You don't have to be scared. I promise I will be gentle." Those words sent a burning thrill through me, a double entendre that had me envisioning the filthier meaning behind them.

"Like this." His hands, much larger than mine, wrapped around my wrists, a tender grip that pulled me flush against his hard body, stealing the air from my lungs as the smell of his cologne filled my airway. My heart thundered as the motor of his bike rumbled low and soft between my thighs, making the ache he had created there worse.

"Hang on to me." With his words lighting a swarm of butterflies in my stomach, I clung to him as he pulled out of my drive.

I sat up in bed, heaving for air as if the wind from Toby's back had stolen the air in my lungs all over again. I scrambled from the bed into the bathroom, where I doused my face in cold water, trying to compose myself in any way I could as the memory from that night and every night after that slammed into my memory like an uninvited guest that I just wanted to leave. Instead of dwelling on it, I walked into the living area to find a note addressed to me on the fridge.

"Sophia,

Come inside. We didn't want to wake you.

-Wit"

I tossed the note back down and debated for some time on whether I wanted to leave the bus. Then I remembered I would have to help keep Logan right tonight, and I finally mustered the courage to get dressed and step out of their tour bus at the venue's back door. I assumed they were playing tonight, even though I had no idea where we were or what I was doing. I walked in like I owned the building, and with every passing person smiling with a soft wave or nod, I kept up that charade until a little redhead, bubbly and energetic, pulled me in for a hug.

"I'm Weston's wife, Kayla. You must be Sophia. It is so nice to finally meet you." She had the same golden retriever energy Weston had, and I hugged her back, thinking about how perfect they were for one another. I followed her to the backstage area, listening as the guys made changes to accommodate Weston tonight.

"We could totally go get dressed for tonight. They will start soon, and you do not want to wear those sweats when those lights go on. It feels like a million degrees back here between the beams and pyro." she chuckled, pulling me away from the trance the thousands of chairs surrounding the stage had put me under. I let her pull me along, letting her gush about how excited she was to have a girl backstage with her for the show and how she had so many fun ideas of how she could do my makeup and the outfits we could wear.

How she reminded me of Lester relaxed me and melted my tension away. Seeing this girl instantly eased my anxiety about all of this. So, as she wanted, I became her personal doll for the evening, letting her dress me up however she pleased.