Margo’s eyes widened. A groupie banging station. Well, that was a different way to look at things.
Lila rolled her eyes. “Yeah. As I said, don’t think about it too much or you will end up carrying around a can of Lysol.”
“Too late.”
“Kitchenette and microwave.” She opened slim cupboards that were remarkably deep. “Just let me know what kind of thing you want.” She reached up to the top. “This one is a freezer, so you can get little dinners for the long rides.”
“You think of everything.”
“My job.” Lila kept moving. “And back here are the bunks. This bus was outfitted for four, so you can pick up or down.”
“They didn’t spread out?”
Lila shrugged. “They have their rituals.”
She peeked into the bunk. It was plenty big enough to sleep in and long enough for her height. That was something new.
“Bathroom there.”
Margo opened the door, expecting a closet but found a huge glass shower, a commode, and a sink. “Holy crap.”
“Yeah, all the guys ever asked for was a better bathroom, so we went with really nice.”
“I think that’s bigger than my second bathroom in my house.”
Lila laughed. “So there you have it. You can stay with me or with the heathens.”
The idea of rooming with Lila had merit. They got along well and both tended toward the quiet. But if she was on the bus with Simon and Nick, she might be able to see how they wrote together.
Watch the build of a song from the ground up.
She also got the dirty socks and unfortunate bodily functions of males in the con column.
But to be surrounded by music again? A different kind of music?
“I can see it on your face.”
“The music thing.”
Lila nodded. “You’ve got the bug. I can see it. Nick can be a little peckish about sharing when it comes to music, but I bet you can get around him. Simon…he is always scribbling. He had no problem collaborating.”
“It seems like it could be amazing.”
“The only thing I will tell you is…being a woman and knowing what’s going on because I have eyes.”
Margo crossed her arms over her chest.
“Drop the defensive act. We all know you and Simon are…” She waved her hand. “Doing stuff.”
“Great.”
“It’s no big deal. I would just recommend that you keep it off the bus. Things can get hairy and this should be a safe haven for you and for everyone.”
Margo relaxed. “That’s a good idea, actually.”
“I have them.”
“That you do.”
“Okay, let’s go get your stuff from my hotel room and get you settled.”
“Good deal.”
They turned and Simon stood in the doorway. “Ladies.”
“You have a new roommate.”
Simon’s eyes fired then did that slumberous I-just-got-out-of-bed thing and Margo’s skin prickled with goosebumps. Definitely keeping sex off the bus.
“Welcome aboard, Violin Girl.”
“Thanks,” she said quietly.
“Hurry back, now. I love bedtime stories.”
“Simon,” Lila warned.
“What?” He grinned.
Keeping sex off the bus was going to require Herculean strength.
Definitely.
16
Simon blew on his mug of ginger honey tea and stared out the window. The lush green crept out from the median and along the sides of the highway. With them heading across the country, he wasn’t sure how much longer they’d have green and vibrant instead of brown from lack of rain.
He grinned as the Brooklyn Dawn bus passed them with a yawning Jamie sitting in the sun. They didn’t have the super-tinted windows that Oblivion’s bus did and were probably dying. The sun had been ruthless for the last few days. It was mid-June and they were entering the fourth week of the tour.
As much as the thick heat of Georgia hurt to think about, he’d appreciated the heavy moisture. His throat did, especially. His vocal cords had actually felt well-lubricated.
The outdoor amphitheaters were dry as dust in most towns. Of course the Midwest was having a record-breaking heat wave, and that’s where they were headed next.
“Morning.”
Simon’s gaze swiveled to Margo and he swallowed a groan. The heat meant Margo wore a helluva lot less than she usually did. Like the boxer shorts and racerback tank top she habitually wore to sleep.
God help him.
They’d both agreed to keep sex off the bus. Well, mostly he’d gotten the directive from Margo, but knowing it was only Nick on the bus with them gave him the heebs.
No need to step into that arena with him. Things had been different a few years ago. The women he’d hooked up with had been transient. This was a whole different kind of…thing.
It wasn’t a relationship. It was more like frenetic sex in any and all available places. Last night had been in the stairwell between the venue and the locker room.
Christ, she’d tried to blow the top of his head off when she’d pushed him against the wall and sucked him off in three minutes flat. Then walked away with a flick of her tongue at the corner of her mouth.
His cum.
There, on the edge of her mouth. And she’d neatly licked her lips clean and went about her business.
Now she would sit across from him on the bus in her all purple night clothes and he wasn’t supposed to jump her.
How had his life come to this?
“Sleep all right?”
She nodded and unwound the braid she always wore to bed. Her eyes were heavy and her cheeks rosy with fresh creases on them from her pillow.
She was fucking beautiful without a lick of makeup on.
It was disgusting.
“How long until we arrive, Joe?” Margo asked.
“You’ve got a good six hours, Miss Margo.”
She tipped her head back. “Ugh. I should have slept longer.” With a disgusted groan, she stood and rummaged through the coffee cupboard. “What are you working on?”
“Nothing.” Simon looked down at his notebook. He’d been scribbling lyrics in the margins, but none of them went together. A verse, then a bridge of another song and a chorus of yet another.
None of them were good either.
In the middle was an owl that looked more like a dragon in disguise. He was pretty fucked up. Probably because he’d started it in his bunk last night when he’d had too much wine.
Damn Lila for bringing wine onto the tour. He was enjoying it more than booze lately. There had to be something wrong with him.
“Doesn’t look like nothing.” She tipped her head. “Looks like one of the little guys from How to Train Your Dragon.”
“Yes. Thank you. I couldn’t figure out how I’d come up with it.”
“We were on a cartoon kick last week.”
“Yes, you made us watch Tangled four times.”
She smirked over her shoulder as she added milk to her coffee. “You know you liked it.”
He and Nick had watched it a fifth time without her, but she didn’t need to know that. “More like we were thinking up ways she could use her hair for more than its healing properties.”
“Perv.”
“Indeed.”
She picked up the remote. “Want to watch Charmed?”
Simon stretched out his legs on the couch. “I do love me some Piper Halliwell.”
“Really? I thought you liked Phoebe.”
“Nah, I like the one who can blow up shit.”
“Huh.” She curled onto her couch and hit play on their Netflix account. “You surprise me sometimes.”
“Yeah, well, you surprise me every day.”
She turned her attention to him and gave him her half frown, half smile thing. It was so cute because it made her freckly nose scrunch up.
They passed the time watching the three witch si
sters blow up shit, discover Phoebe’s boyfriend was a demon, and help random idiots in every episode.
Somehow scintillating stuff.
Nick came out during hour two and watched with them.
“Okay boys and girl. T-minus thirty.”
Margo jumped up off the couch and sprinted for the showers.
Nick stood. “No…dammit.” The door slammed and the snick of the lock made him groan. “Every time.”
“I’m getting to like cold showers.”
Nick snorted. “You need them for a whole different reason.”
Simon turned in his seat, spreading his arms across the length of the couch. “It’s hard being me.”
“Oh yeah, hardship of the ages.”
“You don’t know.”
Nick rolled his eyes. “You want to take the interview for the radio station or me?”
“I’ll get the one after the show.”
Nick nodded. “Sounds good.”
By the time they pulled into Alpharetta, he and Nick had a game plan and a setlist.
“So, no on ‘Lit’ and ‘Taste of Candy’?”
Simon shrugged. “Not feeling ‘Lit’ lately. If you want to do a ‘Taste of Candy/Sugar Kiss’ medley, that’s cool.”
“Hmm. Maybe.” Nick scribbled in the little Moleskin notebook he kept in his pocket at all times. It had every setlist from the start of the tour in it. And his off the wall grading system, as well.
Margo scooted across the narrow passage between the bathroom and her bunk, flashing a lot of leg.
Christ. Damp Margo did not need to be in his head today.
He stood and grabbed a baseball cap from the overhead bin. “I’ll grab a shower later. I’m going to sweat as soon as I walk out that door.”
Nick nodded. “I’ll see you in there.”
He slapped Joe on the shoulder on his way by. “You are the man.”
Joe grunted which made Simon grin. They traded off between Joe and the new driver, Bobby. He knew Joe preferred to drive the baby bus. Mostly because he was in love with Pix, like an indulgent father with an impending grandbaby. The man was fiercely loyal to Jazz and to a lesser extent, Harper.
He hopped off the last stair and caught sight of Jamie and David from Brooklyn Dawn. “Hey guys.”
Jamison DuCaine pushed her jet black and red-streaked hair over her shoulder. “You’re up before noon. What’s wrong, forgot to go to bed?”
“I should ask the same. You were drinking me glass for glass of that California white last night, DuCaine.”
“Yeah, well it was a cool one hundred degrees on the bus. I couldn’t sleep.” She tugged her sunglasses down her nose. “Besides, wine is for pussies. May as well be drinking grape juice.”
Simon barked out a laugh. “Nice. It worked for me.”
Jamie put her shades back on. “That’s because you pickled your liver with vodka, man. You can’t hang with the big kids anymore.”
“I’m literally two years older than you.”
“I know, so old.”
Simon shook his head. “You are a cruel, cruel woman.”
“You have no idea, Pretty Boy.”
Simon sagged his shoulders. “I’m going to kill whoever told you that nickname.”
“You’d have to kill quite a few of your bandmates. They all call you that.”
“Bastards, all of you.” Simon called out to the group standing near the side entrance to the venue.
The two pregnant ladies just wiggled their butts at him.
“Nice.”
They were wearing matching denim overalls with tank tops, Harper in red and Jazz in screaming yellow. He hated to admit that they were adorable. As long as they weren’t in his bus they were adorable, anyway.
Simon climbed the stairs to the backstage area and paused when he saw Lila and Donovan both there. Well, that wasn’t good.
“What’s up, guys?” Simon asked as he met with the rest of the group.
“Where Nicholas?”
Really not good. Simon tipped back his hat. “He was getting dressed.”
Lila pulled out her phone and typed before slipping it back in her pocket. “All right. As soon as he gets here, we’re going to talk.”
“Is there something wrong?” Jazz wound her arm around Gray’s.
“The whole band should be here for this,” Lila said. She looked up at Donovan. “There’s a small room over there we can use.”
Jamie pushed her sunglasses onto her head as she walked by with a frown.
“Why do I feel like I’m going to the principal’s office?” Deacon asked.
Simon snorted. “Like you were ever in detention, St. Deacon.”
“That’s what you think.”
Simon’s eyebrows shot up. “Well, well. Looks like I might have to ply you with shots tonight, Big D.”
“Unlikely.”
Simon made a face at his back. He followed everyone in and sprawled in a folding chair.
Nick came in five minutes later with his wet blond hair slicked back. “Oh, shit,” he said and stared at Donovan. He sat down next to Simon. “What’s the suit doing here?” he whispered.
Simon shrugged.
Donovan nodded to Nick and dipped his hand into his pocket. “As you know the lawsuit with William—I’m sorry, Snake—has been a beastly bit of business. I know he used to be a mate, but at this point, we’ll have to cut off any talks with him.”
Nick shrank down in his chair.
Simon nudged him. “You haven’t.”
“He’s texted me a few times.”
“Christ, Nicky.”
“What was I supposed to do?”
“Mr. Crandall?”
Nick sat up. “Yes?”
“If this goes to trial, you’re on the list for the plaintiff.”
“I’m not great with the legal-speak, but did you just say I’m on Snake’s side?”
Donovan tapped his steepled fingers together. “No. But whatever they have to bring to court on this will hinge on your testimony.”
Nick stood. “I didn’t do anything.”
Lila held up a hand. “He’s not saying that. But whatever Snake has up his sleeve will have something to do with something you said.”
“That sure sounds like I did something.”
Donovan touched her arm. “I don’t like where this is going. I’m still convinced he doesn’t have enough to win, but a sob story and a tough jury in a civil suit don’t always go together. I think we should settle.”
“Fuck that.” Nick swiped his hand through the air. “I felt bad that we replaced him with Jazz, but last year we saw just how little he cared about the actual band. He wanted us to go back to the old days when we played clubs and partied, not the actual work that goes into this shit.”
Donovan’s eyebrow arched.
Simon swallowed a snort.
“Okay, it’s not shit, but you know what I mean.”
“Yes, Nick, I know what you mean,” Donovan said. “But even that statement right there could be twisted in a few different ways if he has a good lawyer. And he’s got a bit of a shark who’s always looking to make headlines.”
“Awesome,” Nick muttered and dropped back into his seat.
“We just have to be smart. Is it worth the legal fees and getting dragged through court or do we give him the seventy-five thousand dollars he’s asking for?”
“The—” Simon sat forward. “How much?”
“It’s not a lot of money compared to what you’re making on the tour and his lawyer knows this. Sales of the albums are pennies compared to what goes on here with the tour. And we’ve just added another ten dates.”
Simon swallowed down against the tickle that was forever plaguing him these days. He probably peed ginger and honey with how much he drank it, for fuck’s sake.
And now ten more dates?
He rested his elbows on his knees and stared at the floor as everyone started talking.
“There is no way in hell we’re
settling or giving him a damn dime,” Nick said above everyone.
“Okay, okay. Just calm down. We were hoping to keep this from becoming any bigger, but I get it. We get it,” Lila said and waved a finger between herself and Donovan.
Nick doubled his fists. “If he had any part in writing it, I wouldn’t be such a dick, but he didn’t.”
“Then we’ll fight it,” Donovan said.
Nick’s shoulders and fingers relaxed. Simon sat back in his chair in reaction to his best friend coming down. The idea that everyone in this room had something to lose because of Snake—again—was just insane.
When was their past going to stop biting them on the ass?
“Now for the good news.” Donovan pulled envelopes out of his suit jacket.
“Pink slips?” Nick quipped.
“No. I think you’ll find that this is much more to your liking, Mr. Crandall.”
Donovan walked around the room and handed everyone a sealed envelope. “I don’t usually do this sort of thing with all this ceremony, but we’ve come a long way from that tense meeting a year ago.”
Understatement. Simon stared at the envelope, unsure if he really wanted to know what was inside. It felt bigger than just a check or a contract.
“Well, go on. Open it up.”
The sound of paper tearing and unfolding was the only noise for about three seconds.
“Holy shit,” Jazz shrieked and bounced to her feet for a step before plowing into Gray and strangling him.
“Okay, babe, one sec. I didn’t even—well, shit.” Gray’s voice was half whisper, half shout. Something that only he could pull off.
Simon flipped open the corner of his envelope and tore off the end. He pulled out two pieces of paper. The first one was a series of numbers with a fuckton of zeroes and then on page two they were all added together with a bank account number.
A metric fuckton of zeroes.
He was pretty sure his gut just liquefied.
“As you can see, the tour is going well, which is why we added the dates.” Donovan turned his attention to Jazz. “That’s if you can manage it, of course.”
Jazz patted her belly. “Is this extending the tour?”
Destroyed (Rockstar Romance) (Lost in Oblivion Book 3) Page 22
