by Lisa Suzanne
“What about school?” my dad asks, always the first to point out the logistics.
“Well, some pictures turned up linking Mark with me, and my principal didn’t like having one of his teachers associated with someone who has his reputation.”
“Your dad isn’t sure he likes it, either,” my dad says.
I shake my head. “Dad, you were the one who took us to all the Vail shows when we were teenagers. Remember?”
Mark saunters into the room. He’s across from me, in my line of sight but not in the camera’s view for my family to see him through the phone. He grins at me.
“How could I forget?” he says. “But you’re my daughter. I’ve heard what they say about him.”
Mark’s eyes darken as he realizes we’re talking about him. He strides over toward me.
“What they say is inaccurate,” I say. “And I’m in love with him.”
Mark steps behind me and leans down so he’s in the camera shot. He waves and kisses the top of my head. “I’m in love with her, too. Hi, I’m Mark.”
“Holy shit!” my sister squeals.
My mom gasps, and my dad and Ben’s eyes both widen.
“My publicist posts what she wants. Most of it’s not true, and I’ll be talking to her now that I’m with your daughter. I never cared about my image until I had someone in my life who I care about more than myself.”
My heart soars. I know his words are exactly what my parents need to hear.
“We’ll be in the southwest at the beginning of November,” Mark says. “I’d love to swing a trip to Phoenix and introduce myself.”
They’re all silent. I think they’re in shock, and I giggle. “He’s just a regular guy, you guys,” I say. “Dad, I caught him watching the Golf channel the other day. You two can talk golf.”
Mark shrugs and grins, and my sister’s jaw drops at his panty-dropping smile.
I giggle.
“Nice to meet you, Mark,” my dad finally says.
Mark’s phone starts ringing. “You, too. I’m so sorry, but I have to take this call.”
He answers it and strolls out of the room, and my family stares at me with their wide eyes.
“So that’s Mark...” I say.
“Reese, he’s very handsome,” my mom says. My dad elbows her and I giggle.
“What about work?” my dad asks, and I realize I didn’t finish answering his question earlier.
“My principal put me on a leave of absence after he saw the photos. I don’t want to work in a place that reacts that way, anyway, and Mark asked if I’d go on tour with him.”
My dad’s apparently the only one who can find his voice. “So that’s it?”
“Yeah. That’s it. We leave tomorrow and I’d love your support.” I’m about to add that I’m going with him whether or not they agree, but my mom comes through for me.
“Of course you have our support. Always, baby girl.”
“I love you guys,” I say.
“We love you, too,” my mom says. My dad nods, and my sister still looks shocked that she just saw Mark Ashton behind me. “We just worry about you. You better check in all the time and let us know where you are, and you better be safe.” She rambles some more, and then we chat a little about wedding plans and what life on the road will be like, and I’m thrilled that I’ll be leaving tomorrow with my family’s blessings.
Later, Mark and I luxuriate in each other with more sex—this time slow and sensual. He pulls out of me at the last second and jerks himself onto my stomach. I watch his face twist as he comes onto me, claiming me as his, marking his territory, sexy and masculine and hotter than anything I’ve ever experienced in my life.
He sits back on his heels for a few beats as we both fight to catch our breath. He eyes the mess he made on me.
“Sorry,” he says, his voice smug.
“No you’re not.”
He laughs and stands. “No, you’re right. I’m not.” He disappears for less than a minute then returns with a wet washcloth to clean me up. Even that turns me on, his warm hands running gently across my body as he takes care of me.
“What will tomorrow look like?” I ask. We’re flying to Atlanta in the morning for a show tomorrow night.
He drops the washcloth and climbs into bed beside me. “Well, usually bus call is two A.M., which means we all need to be back at the buses and ready to travel to the next city overnight. That’s what the crew will be doing.”
“How many buses are there?”
“Three. Ethan and I share one and James and Steve share one. Then there’s a crew bus.”
“You ride apart?”
“When we night travel, yeah. But when we day travel, lots of times we go together. My bus has a little spot where we can remix and write. But then you’re stuck on a bus with somewhere between five and ten other people for a lot of hours.”
“Who?”
He tosses an arm across my stomach. “It depends. Usually Ethan, Steve, James and me, sometimes Morgan and Angelique. Sometimes Vick or Penny depending where we are. Sometimes Keith. Sometimes Ethan has someone with him.” He omits the fact that in the past, he might’ve had someone with him, too. “Plus our driver.”
“Do you usually sleep on the bus?” I want every single detail about life on the road, and I can’t believe I’ll get to experience it starting tomorrow.
“If it’s an overnight trip, yes. But if we’re day driving, sometimes we’ll hammer out lyrics. Other times we just watch movies or play video games or poker to pass the time. The only bus rule is don’t be a dick.”
I giggle. “I promise not to be a dick.”
“So much shit can come up when you’re in close quarters and you’re stressed because of schedule fuck-ups or whatever. It’s important to remember we’re all in it together, not against each other.”
“Is anyone ever a dick?”
“Ethan pretty much always. That’s why Steve and James got their own bus.” Mark flips over to turn off the light then snuggles closer into my naked side. “I’m excited for you to come with me.”
“I am, too,” I say softly. Excited and nervous.
* * *
The air is humid in Georgia even though we’ve slipped from summer to fall. The car that carried us from the airport to the Verizon Amphitheater pulls behind the venue next to three large tour buses a little after three in the afternoon. Mark gets out of the car first and helps me out. We walk over to one of the buses, and a driver stands outside it.
Mark nods to the driver then introduces me. We step onto the bus, which is complete with couches, comfy chairs, a table, a refrigerator, and a large television. He closes the curtain separating the forward section from the bunks. The bus driver must’ve brewed coffee because I spot a pot full on the counter. Mark helps himself to a cup and grabs one for me, too.
“I’ll give you the full tour later,” he says quietly, nodding toward the curtain. “Ethan’s sleeping back there. If the curtain is closed, that’s the quiet voice signal.”
We sit on the couch, Mark’s arm around my shoulders and my hand on his thigh. Vick hops onto the bus next, a large soda in her hand. She’s a bubbly ball of energy who barely seems able to maintain her quiet. “How are you feeling?” she asks, plopping next to him.
“One hundred percent.” He tightens his arm around me. “Thanks to her.”
Vick smiles. “Good work, Reese. Glad to see you back here.”
I give Vick a warm smile back just as a blonde beauty I’ve never seen before steps onto the bus. Her wide blue eyes complete with fake lashes fall onto the man sitting beside me and she flips her long, wavy, perfect hair over her shoulder.
“Mark!” she yells with glee, obviously not understanding the rule about being quiet when the curtain is closed. She flings herself at him and perches on his lap despite the close quarters of Vick on one side of him and me on the other. She’s actually sitting on my hand since it was on Mark’s leg, and I can feel her skin through her ripped jeans. Th
e heel of one of her black hooker boots bumps my leg but she doesn’t care as she kisses him on the cheek. “How are you feeling?”
Clearly she also doesn’t know the rule about not being a dick.
He doesn’t answer her question. “What are you doing here, Zoey?” Mark asks, not removing his arm from around my shoulder as he uses his other hand to force her off his lap.
She grins widely, ignoring the fact that he just pushed her off his lap. “Came to see my favorite boys!”
Mark blows out a breath and looks at Vick.
“Zoey, can you give us a few minutes?” Vick asks.
“Of course!” She flings open the curtain and disappears behind it.
I clear my throat. “Um, who’s that?”
“That’s Zoey,” Mark says.
“Yeah, I got that,” I say dryly.
“She and Mark only dated for a little while,” Vick says.
I turn an angry gaze on Mark.
“How long is a little while?” I ask.
He glares at Vick then blows out a breath. “On and off for a year or two.”
“A year or two?” I screech. I thought he said he’d never been in love, but he had a long-term girlfriend who looks like that?
“It was a long time ago, and it was all physical,” he says. “I never wanted more than that.”
That doesn’t make it any better, not with the mental image of her perfect little body riding on top of my man and not when I’m left to assume that she did want more. I shake my head in disgust, but I force myself to be understanding. He can’t help that girls throw themselves at him and he can’t help that he has a history. This is just a tiny preview of what I can expect going forward.
I’ve been part of his professional life for all of five minutes and this is already harder than I thought it would be.
“Why does she think she can just go wherever she wants on your bus?”
He grits his teeth together then blows out a sigh. “She’s Ethan’s sister. She lives here in Atlanta.”
The picture clarifies. So this is why Ethan hates me so much. I thought it had more to do with the fact that I was taking his wingman away from him. I figured he saw me as the girl taking away his best friend.
It could be more than that, though—it could be that Ethan assumed his sister and his best friend would end up together, that Mark would always be a part of Ethan’s family.
What Ethan might not understand, though, is that Mark and Zoey don’t need to be together for that feeling of family. What Vail has is family.
Even as that thought enters my mind, I remember what Mark told me about Steve. Their family is breaking apart, and Mark committing to me must make Ethan feel like he’s losing two brothers.
I don’t have much time to stew on that because Ethan and Zoey appear from behind the curtain just as Steve and Angelique board the bus followed by Morgan and James. Vick looks annoyed since she didn’t even get a full minute alone with Mark to talk about whatever she wanted to talk about.
“He’s back,” James says, and Mark stands and slaps each guy on the back in that bro-hug thing guys do. He gives both Morgan and Angelique a small kiss on the cheek. Morgan grabs me up into a big hug, and Angelique hangs back, looking bitter and annoyed—things I now understand much more about than I did when I first met her.
Zoey skips off the bus. Steve, James, and Ethan talk with Vick about something on one end of the bus while I stand with Mark, Morgan, and Angelique.
“How are you feeling?” Mark asks Angelique.
“Tired,” she says. “You?”
Mark shrugs. “Back to good.”
“Good. We missed you.” Her words are laden with a deeper undertone, and I get the feeling she doesn’t just mean over the past couple days. The real Mark was buried inside himself, missing in action for the past six weeks. It’s probably the nicest thing I’ve ever heard come out of her mouth. She looks at me and purses her lips. “You’re sticking around this time?”
I glance over at Mark. He’s smiling down at me with love shining in his eyes. I nod at Angelique. “That’s the plan.”
“Does she know?” Angelique asks Mark quietly.
He nods. “She knows everything.”
She shakes her head and lets out a small chuckle. “I wouldn’t have believed it if I didn’t see it with my own eyes. He told you private band stuff, so you must mean a lot to him. Congratulations to you both, and I’m sorry I was an epic cunt when we first met.”
I laugh. “That’s a little harsh.”
“All right. A really big bitch.” She smiles wryly. “Between being the reason behind Steve’s sabbatical and feeling the need to protect my Vail boys on top of pregnancy hormones, I didn’t give you a chance and I’m sorry for that.”
“Forgotten. It’s in the past,” I say.
“Thanks for bringing him back to us,” she says softly.
I give her a hug because I’m suddenly too choked up to say anything.
While the men and Vick video chat with Penny and Keith to work on their schedule, I sit on the couch and watch Mark. He’s in his element as he takes the lead, and I wonder what he was like while we were apart, if he was still the leader or if he took a backseat. Since Angelique thanked me for bringing him back, I have a feeling it was the latter. He’s truly back now, though, and he’s better and stronger than ever.
The boys have their soundcheck, a fan meet and greet, and pre-show rituals while I hang with Morgan and Angelique on the bus. It’s our little home away from home, and I’ve even gotten the full tour now. The back of the bus has an actual bedroom complete with a king-size bed that Mark already claimed for us. I even changed the sheets while he was off at his meet and greet since only God knows what went down on those sheets while Mark was away.
“Those weeks you two were apart were hell on all of us,” Morgan says as I grab a bottle of water from the fridge. I plop on the couch next to her. “Well, maybe except Ethan.”
“Why?” I ask.
“When he wasn’t being an asshole to everyone, he was moody and unpredictable,” Morgan says. “He wasn’t himself.”
“He was unfocused and unhinged,” Angelique adds from a recliner across from us. Her hands rest protectively over her abdomen.
“And now?” I ask.
“Even just in the few phone conversations he’s had with Steve since you came back, he’s himself again,” Angelique says.
Morgan turns back and smiles warmly at me. “A better version of himself.”
I wonder what that means, how I make him a better version of himself, but I bask in their words. I bask in this moment—I’m really, actually a part of this group, the significant others club. I’m part of the in crowd with the wives of the members of Vail.
Five months ago, I was a fan with a fantasy. And now...this is my life.
I blow out a breath of disbelief as we relax in the air-conditioned cab of a tour bus behind a amphitheater and Morgan and Angelique fill me in on everything I missed.
I debate asking them about Zoey, but I trust Mark, so I leave it alone. Soon we’re heading back to the dressing room for our pre-show shot.
I hold my tiny shot glass filled with Jägermeister up next to Morgan’s. Angelique shoots me a grin from across our tight circle as she holds up a shot glass filled with water. My hand is steady this time as I wait for the rhyme I know the words to.
“To show six eighty-eight,” Mark says. “Good pitches, no hitches, no forgets.”
Everyone, including me this time, chimes in together with, “No regrets!”
I swallow down the black licoricey-tasting liquid and set my glass on the table with everyone else. We’re all standing, and as soon as Mark drops his glass on the table, he pulls me into him. He presses his lips gently to mine.
“Wish me luck,” he says just like he said last time as he leans his forehead to mine.
I say the same thing I said last time, too. “You? Nah, you don’t need it.”
He laughs at o
ur new little ritual. “Nah, you’re probably right,” he says, and we both laugh.
He kisses me again. “Watch me from side stage?”
“Nowhere else I’d rather be.”
Vick leads the boys out of the dressing room and toward the stage. Mark clutches my hand as we follow. I glance over at him. His gaze is focused ahead of us, intense as he prepares to take the stage in front of a sold-out crowd at a venue that fits twelve thousand people. He must feel my eyes on him because he looks over at me.
Vick picks up the pace because it’s show time. The boys don’t have time to waste, but Mark spares a second to kiss me once more.
It’s a slow, sensual, tender kiss. I hear a drum somewhere in my periphery. I hear a bass guitar join in. But Mark is still kissing me.
He pulls away and his eyes meet mine for one intense second, and then he runs to the stage just in time to join the music with the first line of their opening song. His eyes meet mine more than once as he works the stage and does what he does best, and I find my feelings growing inexplicably stronger with every note he sings.
* * *
“What the fuck, Pen?”
Mark is pissed. He should be celebrating his big return to the stage after a drug overdose, but instead he’s yelling at his publicist on a video chat a little after one in the morning.
“People needed to know you’re okay,” she says.
“I’m capable of telling people I’m okay, and I have a girlfriend now. Stop tweeting pictures of me with other women.”
She sighs. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d even notice.”
“That’s not an excuse. I know you think I can’t handle my own social media, but I don’t want Reese getting the wrong idea. Or my fans, for that matter. I’m with someone, and it’s serious. I don’t want people thinking I’m out with a different woman every night anymore. It’s not fair to her or them.”
“You’re right, and I apologize to you both.”
I wave at her from behind Mark to indicate that I’m not mad. He’s more upset about it than I am, to be honest. He’s lying on the bed with his iPad and I’m sitting behind him, propped against the headboard. The bed is just like the ones in all three of his homes that I’ve slept in.
