“I’m trying to suck up,” I protest. Pot’s the one thing I don’t wouldn’t mind if Davis took up. I mean, if he has to have a bad habit why not that one?
Rudd sniffs the brownies. “Too bad we can’t eat this.”
“Why not?”
He takes the pan and sets it outside. “We can’t have pot on the bus. Cops are always pulling these things over for one bullshit excuse or another.”
I grimace. “Oh crap. I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, I know. Just…don’t try so hard.” Davis pats me awkwardly on the head.
I bat his hand away. “Got it.”
His face softens, probably sensing my anxiety at this whole situation. “Come on. I’ll show you the rest of the joint.”
He drags me down the hallway pointing out all the features. Right behind the driver’s cab is a long black leather sofa. Across is another small seating area comprised of a table and a cushioned bench on either side. I presume that the table lowers and the whole thing becomes a bed. I could sleep on either the sofa or this contraption.
A press of a button and a door swishes open. Four bunks, stacked two by two, are next.
“This is like a spaceship,” I marvel. “Is it hydraulics?”
“Who knows?” Davis shrugs. He doesn’t care how the sausage is made, only that there’s meat on his plate. “Here are the bunks.” He waves a finger to either side of the bus. Each bunk has a small screen folded against the ceiling of the bunk and a short, stiff black curtain that pulls closed, giving each occupant some semblance of privacy. “This is where the band sleeps.”
We stop at another door with another push button entrance. To the left is a small hallway and a door.
“Bathroom with a shower.” I catch a glimpse of more black and stainless steel. “Door.” He gestures to the exit door across from the shower. “Back here is the lounge, I guess.” It’s a U-shaped seating arrangement. He kicks his foot against the base and an empty drawer pops open. “You can put your stuff here.”
“Where am I sleeping?” I drop my shoulder bag that I’ve rescued from his bandmate, Rudd.
“Back here.” He taps a silver switch recessed into the side of a cabinet. “Press this and the couches will fold out. There are sheets and pillows in the cabinets above.”
Crap. The biggest bed? The most sequestered space and it goes to me? This set up isn’t going to endear me to the band. Instead the guys will think I’m a spoiled princess, always needing the best.
“Wait. I can’t sleep back here,” I protest. “This is the biggest room. Give me a bunk. Or the sofa in the front. Heck, I’ll sleep on the floor. Please.” When he doesn’t immediately shut me down, I know he’s wavering. I press harder. “Seriously. If I’m going to spend eight weeks with you guys, treat me like one of the guys.”
“I don’t know.” Davis runs his hand through his hair—an action he does when he’s uncertain or frustrated. “This is Rees’s gig, and he said you should be back here.”
I suck in my lower lip. I hate seeing Davis in any mood other than serene. In the past, the ruffling of his hair was the precursor to more troubling behavior. “Was there something I said”—or you said? I think—“that made him believe I needed this?”
Davis looks everywhere but at me, his guilt on clear display.
I press my palms together, prayer-like. “Davis, you need to get along with these guys and so do I. If this is Rees’s gig, as you say, then he should have this room. I’ll take whatever bunk the rest of your band doesn’t want.”
“Fine. I’ll go get Rees.” Davis stalks off.
I glance around the room again. Is eating snakes really that bad?
Adam appears a minute later. His handsome face looks as angry as it did the other night. “Is there a problem?”
I open my mouth to deliver a firm rebuttal of his plans when my ovaries melt and my knees go weak. Since I’m finally wearing my glasses, every inch of his beautiful frame comes through with perfect clarity. I place a hand against the back of the sofa so I don’t fall over. His big tattooed arms, made strong from all the practice he does, are holding a tiny baby clad in a sunshine-yellow onesie with the words “shit happens” lettered on the back. The forearms flex as he pats one long-fingered, talented hand along the baby’s back.
Those wonderful fingers. They could soothe me anytime. My core tightens. I’m so going to hell for entertaining dirty thoughts while in the presence of a baby! Get your act together, I sternly order myself.
“Is he yours?” I manage to squeak. I’m torn between utter enchantment at seeing him so tenderly hold the baby and dismay that he’s taken. But why wouldn’t he be taken? He’s so damn gorgeous and so damn talented that it’d be crazier if he were single.
Do not sleep with a musician, May chastises me in my head.
“No, this little guy is Ian’s. What’s the problem here?”
“It’s too good for me,” I explain, battling back a wave of unnecessary relief that Adam isn’t taken. “I don’t need this. I’ll sleep in the top bunk over Davis and you or Ian or Rudd can sleep in here.”
“Is that right?” Adam looks over his shoulder to my brother.
Davis shrugs. “I don’t care where she sleeps.”
Adam turns back to me. “You’re sleeping back here, not because I think you’re some precious piece of porcelain that needs to be coddled. You’re back here so the boys can fuck who they want, when they want, without having to worry that you’re going to judge them. Now if you want to sit in front and watch because that’s what gets you off, then be my guest. Otherwise, you’ll sleep here.”
Okay, then. “I’ll sleep in here,” I concede, a blush creeping across my cheeks. “Thank you. I’ll just pay a greater portion of the rent then.”
“Rent?” Adam sounds confused.
Davis props his forearm against the wall and leans his head against it, as if I’m so wearying that he can’t stand upright. “She wants to pay her own way and she wants a job.”
“I’m right here.” I wave my hand. “But, yes, I’m not going to be a leech. I’m paying my own way. Food, gas, shelter. The whole shebang.”
I pull out my wallet. I made Davis stop at the bank before we came, so I have plenty of cash. But instead of taking my money, Adam’s frowning.
“No. You’ll get a per diem like the rest of us. The money that comes in will go toward the gas and paying the driver.”
“Please. I insist.”
“Trust me,” Davis interjects. “She can afford it. And if you don’t take the money from her, she’ll hassle you every spare minute of the day.”
That garners a raised eyebrow from Adam.
I clear my throat. “In college, a friend and I wrote an app and we sold it for a good amount.”
By now, the entire band has crowded into the small hallway outside of this back room.
“What app?”
“Peep,” Davis supplies.
“Peep?” Rudd exclaims from behind my brother. “I was on tour last year with Domestica and used that app every day. It’s the only way I survived that fucking snoozefest. You made that?”
“Me and my best friend May wrote it together,” I admit.
“Two girls while you were in college?” says Rudd. He sounds astounded, although I’m not sure what’s more surprising—that it was two women who wrote code, or that we did it in college.
“Peep? Isn’t that a porn site?” Ian asks.
My cheeks heat up. “We didn’t develop it for that purpose. But, yeah, I think it’s mostly used for amateur porn these days.” The code itself is licensed to a number of different companies, but the app was sold off to a media corporation that later turned around and sold it to an adult film company. Which is why I only ever say that May and I wrote an app, not the specific one we wrote.
“Best app ever.” Rudd muscles by Davis to throw an arm around my shoulder. “Goddamn. I would’ve taken more computer science classes if I knew chicks like you were there.”
“Well, that’s where we were hiding out,” I concede.
“You share anything on it? Maybe I’ve seen your work.” He waggles his eyebrows.
“Nope. I’m more of a behind-the-scenes kind of gal.” Show my naked body to strangers? I’d rather be shot and quartered.
“You could make a fortune if you had your own channel. I would totally sign up for that.”
“Rudd,” Adam says sharply.
“What?” He blinks innocently. “I’m trying to get to know our newest bandmate.”
Someone growls, which makes Rudd laugh.
“It’s fine. It’s all fine.” I pat Rudd awkwardly on the back and set a few boundaries. “Rudd and I are going to be BFFs. Right?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely. At night, we can throw slumber parties back here and rub each other’s”—another deep growl rumbles and this time I pinpoint the source as Adam—“feet,” Rudd finishes with a smirk.
“I thought our friendship would be more of a mental connection. Like a metaphysical one. It’ll be meaningful and longer lasting than any physical relationship,” I say airily.
“Bummer,” Rudd says, but his eyes are twinkling in a way that lets me know he doesn’t mind that I’m not falling into his bed.
“We good here?” Davis jiggles the keys in his pocket impatiently. He’s done with all the introductions and wants to be on the road. He was like a kid at Christmas this morning, shouting to see if I was ready every five minutes. “Because I want to get the rest of my gear.”
“I’m great. After all, I get to sleep back here while you all get the tiny, tiny bunks.”
Before anyone can give me a smart-ass rejoinder, a feminine voice hails us from the front of the bus.
“I’m back, baby. Got the medicine.”
Ian swivels around. “Hey, babe.”
“That’s Ian’s baby momma. Berry. As in strawberry,” Rudd explains. “Ian has asthma and Berry wanted him to take an extra dosage along.”
The rest of the band files down the hallway toward the newcomer. Berry’s a stunner. Dark hair, dark eyes, and a huge smile. For a woman who just had a baby, she looks surprisingly chic in her navy-and-white striped top and navy capris.
“Is Strawberry her name?” I ask.
“Naw. It’s Beryl. Family name, I guess. Weird as fuck, don’t you think?”
“I like it.” We women need to stick together. “It’s unusual. Is she coming on the tour with us?” It would be awesome to have another woman traveling with us. Plus, I’m itching to get my hands on the baby that’s still snuggled against Adam’s chest. Or was. Berry pulls the baby from Adam’s reluctant grasp. The baby voices a protest, whimpering as he’s transferred to his momma.
I can sympathize. I wouldn’t want to move from Adam’s arms, either.
“Hey, I was holding him,” he objects.
My ovaries clench again. Why is a man with a baby so damn sexy?
“Is it the baby or Adam?” Rudd asks softly.
I jerk back. “What? I…what?”
He winks at me. “You sighed.”
“I did not.”
“You did. You sighed like a girl at her first concert.”
“It was the baby,” I proclaim. Inwardly, I cringe. I’ve got to do a better job of hiding my rapidly developing crush.
Rudd chuckles. “It’s alright. I’m not going to tell anyone. We’re besties, so your secret’s safe with me.”
“It’s the baby,” I repeat.
“You keep telling yourself that.” He draws away. “Berry, come and meet our new bandmate. This is Landry.”
Grateful for the interruption, I smile at the dark-haired woman. “Hi, Berry. Your baby is so adorable.”
She shifts her tiny son to the side before reaching out and grasping my hand. “Jack? I know. He’s a peanut. So how do you feel about traveling with these jokers?”
“I’m sure it’s going to be awesome.”
She busts out laughing, which causes Jack to cry a little harder. “Girl, let’s go to the back so you don’t choke on all the lies you feel obligated to say in front of them.”
Before I can blink, Berry brushes by a protesting Ian and grabs my arm, hauling me toward the back room we just abandoned.
“Isn’t this thing amazing?” she raves. “Finn and Adam did such a great job fixing it up. Before, it was a rotted dump. I swear you could still smell the vomit and shit from the last time Adam’s dad took it out on the road.”
“Adam redid it himself?” Obviously, he’s a man of many talents, particularly talents with his hands. That thought leads to another, naughtier one, and suddenly it’s very warm in the back of the bus.
“Yup. Him and Finn. You know Finn?” The baby starts fussing loudly. Berry plops down on the edge of the sofa and pulls her shirt down. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“Nope. Feed away.”
She gives me a small smile of appreciation and proceeds to expertly flip her breast out and into little Jack’s mouth. He immediately clasps his lips around the nipple and starts to suckle. I take a seat opposite of her. The black leather feels soft as butter under my hand.
“Finn O’Malley runs the O’Malley Construction company with his uncle,” Berry explains.
“Oh wow. I’ve seen their signs around.” Everywhere from construction at the Capitol to big projects in the suburbs.
“Right. So Adam and Finn are old friends. Since grade school. I think they ate sand from the sandbox or something. Anyway, the two of them bought the house over there.” She jerks her head in the general direction of the timber and glass structure just beyond the bus. “And they live there with a couple other guys who go to Central. Or maybe they’re done with Central.” Central’s the fancy private college in town. Berry continues, “I don’t really know. When Adam got the invite for the tour, he told Ian that they were going to take the bus. Ian, as you can guess, is thrilled.”
“These are nice digs,” I admit. “You coming with us? I bet Ian would be so happy if you were here and I’d love another woman. Look at all the room we’d have.” I wave a hand around the space. “You, me, and Jack. It’d be perfect.”
She laughs. “You’ve never had a kid, have you?”
I shake my head. “No. Never.”
“I can tell. A newborn is like a bus full of these guys at their drunkest. Impossible to control and incredibly loud until you give them the tit.”
I grimace. “Do you have any other coping techniques? Because I’m not down with the whole giving-them-the-tit thing.”
“They’re pretty much giant kids. Ignoring Ian works. He hates the silent treatment. Rudd needs constant attention, and Adam, it depends on his mood.” Berry doesn’t give me a chance to ask what she means by that. “I’m moving back in with my mom and dad while Ian’s gone. I have plenty of support, and this is Ian’s big chance. Besides, being on a tour is terrible. I rode with Ian for two weeks during a summer break between our junior and senior year of college. It was miserable. Of course, we were in a twelve-seater van instead of a bus like this one, but the stench.” She shudders. “I couldn’t do it again. ’Course, it sounds like you don’t have a choice.”
“Ian told you about my stalker?” I shift uncomfortably in my seat. I hate that’s the only thing some people will know about me. Oh, there’s Landry Olsen. The girl with the stalker.
“Only that you had one and that Davis didn’t want to leave you behind, which Ian totally understands.” She eyes me speculatively. “Old boyfriend?”
I sigh and rub a finger where the bruise once was. The cut is scabbing over and I have to force myself not to scratch. Revisiting Marrow’s attack is more embarrassing than painful. “I wish, because then it might be a little understandable, but no. Just another student who built up a grand romance in his head. When I didn’t acknowledge him and started dating someone, he felt…” I push up my glasses and struggle to find the right word. “Betrayed? Hurt? I don’t even know. Anyway, my therapist said that his focus on me wa
sn’t about me, but what I represented.”
“That sucks. You’ll be safe here. I can’t imagine that with all these guys around, he’d try anything.”
I hope that’s true, but my stalker doesn’t think like a rational person. In fact, if he finds out I went off with a bunch of guys, it’d probably set him off. Hopefully he doesn’t find out. Pressleytold me she asked Marrow’s parole officer to check up on him and give him a little reminder about the terms of his early release.
“Honestly? I’d be so much happier if there was another woman on board. You sure you don’t want to hang around? Even for the first week or so?”
“You’ll be fine.” She hesitates, running a hand down little Jack’s body. “Can I give you a piece of advice, though?”
“Absolutely.”
“My number one piece of advice is to not catch feelings for Adam. I know it’s going to be hard because he’s hot as sin and as sweet as candy, but he’s not even close to settling down.”
“No warnings about Rudd?” I joke.
She gives me a knowing look but doesn’t call me on my obvious bullshit. “Rudd’s harmless. Adam, on the other hand, would cause a nun to sin. Put him onstage with a guitar and it’s impossible not to be turned on. Oh, I can see that you’re a little confused since I’m married to Ian. Ian and I have been together since we were sixteen. Can you believe it?”
“No. I can’t even remember half the guys I went to high school with.”
Jack pops off the boob and without even looking, Berry switches her baby from one side to the other. Jack latches on immediately and Berry continues talking. “Ian’s my one true love and this little guy makes us even closer, but I’ve got eyes and a working vagina. Adam’s got star power or charisma. Whatever it is, he has it. That’s why Ian’s been playing with Adam for the last five years. One of these days, Adam’s going to catch fire and Ian wants to ride along.”
“Ian’s a great musician,” I say, although I don’t know what makes a good drummer versus a bad drummer, but Adam sounds like he’s very particular so Ian must be good.
Unwritten Page 6
