Banging the Band
Author
Jen Cooper
Reads
17.6K
Chapters
61
Charlotte is a dancer who lands a last-minute spot touring with the renowned rock band Hellfire—a dream job complicated by the fact that the five band members include her ex and her longtime rival. Reconnecting with her ex sends shockwaves through the group, blurring boundaries both on and off stage. As the tour rolls on, Charlotte finds herself spending far more time tangled up with band members than dancing, caught in a web of desire, jealousy, and secrecy. Determined to keep her private life hidden from the public eye, she must navigate explosive relationships, rising tensions, and the dangerous thrill of life on the road—where one wrong move could bring everything crashing down.
Chapter 1: Sweet Girl
CHARLOTTE
Maggie Fray was going on tour with Hellfire, and I was not.
I was doing my best not to be pathetic about it as we warmed down in the empty studio, the last of the afternoon light coming through the glass. The other classes had long since finished.
It was just the two of us, the way it always was at the end of the day—me staying late to learn everything she knew, her letting me, because that was Maggie.
“I still can’t believe it,” I said. “Going on tour with the hottest band in the rock world right now. Meeting them. And you’re acting like it’s a work trip.”
“It is a work trip.” She bent her legs in, reaching forward over the floor. Her green eyes cut to me sideways. “From what the manager bitch I’ve been dealing with has said, the dancers stay on the crew bus, come on stage for the sets that need us, and go back. Be seen, not heard.”
“Still.” I pressed my forehead to my knee and tried not to pout. “Blake Williams is on bass guitar.”
Maggie’s mouth curved. “Blake Williams.”
“He’s okay,” I said, which was an outright lie and we both knew it.
Ashy blond, unkempt hair, baby blue eyes, and a charming smile that I had adored. But it had been high school. A bit of fun before he said goodbye to Evanston High, replacing it with a rock star lifestyle.
But I wasn’t bitter. We’d had fun, he was hot as hell, and I missed that every now and then. I hadn’t heard from him since, though. His mom still lived next door and updated me on every little thing he was doing.
Living the dream, apparently. I was happy for him. After his father had passed, things could have gone the other way for him.
Maggie must have seen the memories in my mind because she smirked, getting to her feet. “So. You’re a Blake girl. Interesting.” She grinned, walking over to our water bottles. She took a sip. “I thought you’d be more of an Atlas girl.” She winked.
I laughed. “Atlas is hot too. But he’s still got that asshole vibe he had in high school.”
I drank some water, then pulled my sweater out of my bag. I pulled it on over my tight white crop and black Lycra shorts.
“Right. Blake, Atlas, and Felix. Evanston’s crowning achievements now.” Maggie smirked.
“The golden trio. They got away with everything back then. I suppose they still do.” I sighed wistfully.
Atlas had gotten me in trouble so many times, fucked with me, and then warned me away because I was distracting Blake.
Like it was my choice his friend kept coming back for more.
Felix was another story. He was fucked up. He had never cared either way. He just wanted to drink away the shit he was going through at home.
Everybody knew he had it rough, but nobody dared bring it up after he put a guy in hospital for mentioning his new foster family.
“Orphan” was the ultimate dig to him, and as long as you didn’t say it around him, he seemed fine.
I just stayed out of his way.
But it had been four years since those three had been in my life, and I was pretty sure they didn’t even remember I existed.
In Atlas’s case, that was probably intentional. Felix had more than likely drunk away the memories.
But Blake…sometimes I wondered if he remembered.
We had never been serious or promised each other anything, but I couldn’t forget. Some part of me hoped he couldn’t either. But that was the teenage part of me.
I was twenty-two now and had a life to create. One where I danced on stages and moved to music that didn’t come from the speaker on my phone.
“Well, they don’t carry the right equipment for me,” Maggie said, “but if you ever do get the chance, steer clear. That manager of theirs is a witch who warned us to stay away from them. And any band who can’t at least meet their crew is not worth what you have to give.”
Maggie’s warning was fair but pointless.
I was not in her league when it came to dancing on tours. But I didn’t say that—instead I just smiled and hung my bag on my shoulder. “I know. There are enough stories online about them for me to only have a mild crush on their hot-as-hell physiques.” I smirked.
No matter how many articles came out warning girls away from them—that they were the ultimate boy-band vibes, that they were toxic—there was still another one waiting to be used.
Maggie hung her bag on her shoulder and we walked to the door as the sun sank further. She opened the glass doors and we walked out.
“Are you going to be okay while I’m gone? You can handle the extra classes I gave you?”
I nodded, tucking a strand of my long, black hair behind my ear. I used to tie it up, but Maggie had taught me to wear it down.
She said if I could complete my dance with annoying strands of hair distracting me, then it would teach me to ignore the distractions of the real world when I was on stage.
“I wouldn’t have said yes if I couldn’t,” I said.
“I know. And I trust you, Charlotte. I don’t say it enough, but you’re too talented to still be where you are,” she said, her smile faltering a little.
I shrugged. “Being poor isn’t so bad. I have more than most.”
And it was true. My parents and I lived in a tiny home. I didn’t have my own laptop or my own car. But I had parents who adored me. And they believed in me, supporting my dream and helping me chase it.
And we were happy.
All those things were worth more than money, because I had seen people without them and they were far more unlucky.
Felix crossed my mind, and I chewed my lip.
“You do. Now go, get home before dark,” she said, nodding down the street. She knew I wouldn’t accept a drive. I always walked home as part of staying in shape.
“I will. Enjoy your night, and I’ll see you when you get back from tour.” I grinned.
“I’ve got to go home and finish the panels on the roof before I leave, so I don’t know about enjoying it, but make sure you do. Go out, find a nice boy, get fucked at every angle until you feel like you’ve just had a dance class.” She winked.
I laughed and she walked away, pulling her sunglasses down on her head, going to her jeep with a surfboard on it. She did everything, that woman.
I smiled, put my earbud in, then started walking the few blocks home.
It had only been a few minutes when my phone buzzed.
I looked down at it, ignoring the people walking past. I turned to Hellfire’s new album, Hot as Hell, and pressed shuffle.
Another buzz.
I checked the messages and paused mid-step.
It was a voice message from the very person I had just been thinking about.
Blake Williams.
I swallowed hard and pressed play.
“Hey, Sweet Girl. I’m back home for a few days before the tour starts. Mom is excited to see me, and you know I love her, but I was thinking about you and how long it’s been since we caught up. Want to come over tonight? Mom’s cooking lasagna—she still thinks it’s my favorite.”
I blew out a breath, my body suddenly on fire. Did I want to catch up? Holy hell, I wanted to do more than that.
His music started playing in my ear, Atlas’s annoyingly perfect rock voice full of husk and baritone backed up by the others. It made the heat inside me even worse.
I messaged him back.
Charlotte
I’ll see you soon
It was a simple message, but I knew he’d know what I meant. I wanted to catch up in every way.
I licked my lips and walked home faster.
Not because I wanted to see my parents. Not because I wanted to have lasagna.
But because I remembered what it felt like to be with Blake Williams, and now that he had me craving it, the last few blocks before home seemed impossibly long.
So I started running.
