“Oh.” Jazz turned around to face everyone. “That’s a great idea. Gray has fronted groups before.”
“Yeah, when I was a teenager, babe.”
“It’s okay for one night, right? Just to fill in? Then Super Slut will be back to his operatic self. We have another day between The Greek and The Hollywood Bowl. So that will give him almost four full days off.”
Simon crossed his arms over his chest, his phone in his hand. He thumbed out a text and sent it to Nick.
Nick’s phone buzzed. He pulled it out and read the message, then looked at him. “Are you sure?”
Simon shrugged. No, he wasn’t fucking sure, but it was the best option they had.
“It’s not like Simon can’t be on stage. He can run around and get everyone crazy.” Lila pulled out her iPad. “We’ll play it up that he needs a nurse to make him feel better, maybe?”
Awesome. He could just be the guy that was the mime cheerleader. That sounded like more fun than an acid wash for his nuts.
Fuck.
Nick cracked his first smile. “Do we know any strippers that could put on nurse outfits?”
Simon did a two thumbs up. There was nothing wrong with that scenario. He texted Nick.
Make sure he sings “Bad Medicine”.
Nick snorted and flashed his phone at Gray.
Gray swung his gaze to Simon. “Oh hell no. I’m not singing Bon Jovi.”
“C’mon,” Simon mouthed.
“Absolutely not.”
If he had to stay on the sidelines, at least he could have some damn fun with it.
“All right, everyone. Time to pack it in. Joe and Bobby have to take off with the busses to make it to California in a reasonable time. You have lots of press on your home turf.”
“Who the hell scheduled us in Indianapolis then to California?” Nick asked with a groan.
“We have to work around the venue schedules. You guys asked for The Greek, so we got you what you wanted.”
“My bad,” Nick said.
“Shoo, pregnant people and dads. Off we go.” Lila herded people off the bus.
Jazz ducked under Lila’s arm and came at him. Her sweet watermelon scent wrapped around him as she curled her arms around his neck. “Feel better, Super Slut.”
He rested his cheek against hers for a minute and swallowed down the lump.
Had to be bad if Jazz was voluntarily hugging him. He patted her ass to make sure she knew he was still the same old Simon. And when she punched him in the arm, he was able to find a smile.
It lasted until everyone left.
And then there were three.
Margo was quiet. She picked at the dark nail polish on her thumbnail. Nick sat next to her and neither of them would look at him.
It was going to be a long damn drive of silences.
Simon stood and stretched with a yawn. He texted to Nick that he was going to hit his bunk. He really couldn’t stand the stares, or in this case, the avoiding stares.
He was so very done with the day.
Maybe he could sleep twenty-four hours straight and save himself the muzzle.
18
“Up and at ‘em, Simon. We’re pulling in.” Nick’s voice boomed into the silence.
Or it had been silent.
Simon covered his eyes with his arm. His head was pounding. He’d watched Netflix on his tablet for about twelve hours straight. He just hadn’t been able to face anyone.
Margo left him a pot of tea every few hours. She’d attempted to pull back the curtain once, but then had let it swing closed again.
Her honeysuckle scent teased him every time she moved around the back of the bus, but neither of them seemed to know how to approach the other.
Sleep and nocturnal raids on their freezer when everyone else was sleeping covered the rest of the hours on the road. He knew it was cowardly, but he just didn’t give a shit.
If he wasn’t allowed to speak for three goddamn days, that was the perfect time to watch every episode of Daredevil.
Matt Murdock beating the ever-loving shit out of every bad guy in Hell’s Kitchen was enough to keep his rage in check.
He lived vicariously through the character.
And no one else had tried to bother him. The few times he’d pulled out his earbuds, he’d heard Margo and Nick working on a song or watching Charmed.
He didn’t have it in him to play nice. Not when he’d have to for the next thirty-six hours. He rolled out of his bunk and because he was rank, he closeted himself in the bathroom for a hot shower.
He knotted a towel at his waist and looked out the window. The spire of the University of California’s bell tower came into view as Bobby pulled around to The Greek Theater.
They’d played the smaller venue of the same name on the Rebel Rage tour. Los Angeles was, and would always be, home turf. That had given him a boner for days, but this park...
This was bigger and was fast becoming the place to play. The mere fact that Lila had gotten them in with only a request from him and Nick was just out of control.
And he couldn’t fucking sing.
He flattened his hand on the window. Before he could do something stupid like smash his fist into the glass, he stepped back. The overhead compartment came into his eyeline and he flipped it open.
Hello old friend.
He pulled down one of the Crystal Skull bottles. He downed a bottle of water, ripped off the label, and refilled it with the crystal clear vodka.
That would be one way to get through the day.
He took a hit from the eerily smiling skull and tucked it back on the shelf.
“You’re alive.”
Simon swallowed down a sound that was half groan and half seething sigh. He turned to her and lifted his eyebrows in answer. Christ, she was fresh-faced and beautiful.
Onstage, she had perfected the vamp look with her all black outfits and screaming-colored electric violin and cello. She’d taken to the rockstar skin as if she’d been born for it.
But here, she was short white shorts and tanned legs. A striped T-shirt showcased her tiny waist and amazing tits.
All he wanted to do was haul her into his arms and wrap that lush body around him. He wanted to forget that his voice sucked, that the world sucked, that his life sucked.
But he didn’t.
Because that luscious mouth of hers was pinched with worry, and her dark eyes were searching for a way to ask him if he was okay.
He wasn’t fucking okay. And he didn’t even want her to make the pretense of asking him.
As if she somehow read his mind, she rose onto her scarlet-painted toes and nipped his lower lip. “We have the whole evening to escape this bus. Since you can’t do the interviews and they’re going to play up the sick card instead of the voice card, you’re mine.” She palmed his dick through the towel then snaked her hand under the flap. “Tell me, do you think you can play college co-ed with me today?”
He resisted the urge to groan and tipped his head back as she stroked down his shaft and slipped her thumb around the crown of his cock.
She nibbled his Adam’s apple and he jerked away. Instead of looking repentant, she smiled and released him. “Get dressed.”
He grabbed the bottle and slid on his oldest pair of jeans under his towel. The knee was ripped out on one leg and there was a huge hole in the thigh of the other. An equally abused Ozzy shirt finished his college look. Half hipster douche, half irony. Sunglasses and an Angels’ baseball cap hid his overlong hair and eyes.
“That’s quite the ensemble.”
He pulled his phone out and texted.
Hey, I showered. More than most college kids.
She shook her head and looped a wide canvas purse over her head and settled it cross-body. “Want me to hold your water?”
He shook his head.
“Okay, ready?”
He gave her a thumbs up with his most sarcastic smile.
“Look at that. You don’t even need a voice to conv
ey asshole.”
He sighed.
“We will have fun. It’s an amazing word and we shall find the true meaning today. Then tonight we’ll meet up with everyone and you can stop pouting.” She held up her hand. “Don’t even deny it. I let you pout for a day and a half. That’s all you get.”
He tipped his head back and looked at the ceiling.
“Such a tough life. Okay, let’s go.”
They got off the bus and escaped down an alleyway to the main campus. Trees and reddish walkways offset all the light-colored buildings. They fell into step with students as they wandered through a huge quad with a circular fountain at its center.
A huge patinated archway lead to food vendors. Simon sipped his way through the bottle of vodka during their lazy stroll through campus and knew he needed to drink actual water or something before he stank like vodka through his pores.
It was ridiculously hot.
Feeling better with two hotdogs in his belly and a large fresh lemonade, he finally relaxed. The sun was bleeding through the trees when they finally circled around to the back end of the campus where the stage was located.
They dropped onto the stone stairs where there was finally some shade. Margo took a long drink from the tall bottle of water she’d refilled a few times.
“I can’t believe this campus. It’s so different from Boston.”
He hadn’t even thought about the novelty of a new campus for her. She was an East coast girl. Sure, she did some studio work in Los Angeles, but that was a far cry from this slice of collegiate life.
He pulled his phone out and texted her.
“Yeah, I went to college. I have a Master’s in music theory and a minor in business from Brown.”
His eyebrows shot up. Well that was certainly a far cry from his own high school diploma.
“Holy shit!”
Simon hunched up his shoulders. His half-assed disguise had worked all day. He really didn’t want to have to fend off fans. Especially when he couldn’t charm his way out of it like he usually did.
“Crap, you probably don’t remember me. I look a little different.”
Simon slid his sunglasses down and looked her over. Ass-hugging denim shorts and a bright red top initially distracted him, but her face started pulling at a memory.
He was pretty sure he hadn’t slept with her, but couldn’t be absolutely sure.
“Simon, it’s Tori.”
He frowned. That name definitely niggled.
Margo held out her hand. “I’m Margo. Simon has laryngitis, so he can’t talk.”
“Oh. Oh, wow.” Tori pulled her hair over her shoulder and twisted it into a coil.
Simon snapped his fingers. He dug out his phone and texted Margo.
She looked down at her phone then gave him a deadpan stare. “I’m not saying that.”
“Can I see?”
“It’s rude.”
Tori laughed. “I bet it is.”
Margo sighed and turned her phone around.
Tori snorted. “Yep. That would be me.”
Nick’s blowjob girl from the first tour had turned into a little bit more than just a fun flirtation. She’d gelled with Nick more than any other girl Simon had seen on tour.
Ultimately, the tour was just too much of a force and Tori had gone on to greener pastures. Yet whenever they had a show in California, Nick seemed to hook up with her.
Looked like this one might not be any different.
“I was hoping to find Nick somehow with the show tomorrow night. He gave me an all-access pass to whatever show I could get to.”
Margo tilted her head in that way that made his cock harden. So curious. “Nick doesn’t really do the backstage scene all that often. You must be something special.”
“I like to think so.” Tori flipped her dark hair over her shoulder. “He’s always so damn serious. I like to shake him up a little.”
“He…” Margo trailed off.
Simon nudged her with his shoulder.
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t want to sound bitchy.”
“Oh, girl. Nicky can be an absolute asshole. That’s why I love him so much.”
“Well yeah.” Margo tapped her middle finger against her nail. “He needs to get laid.”
Simon tipped his head back and clapped. Oh man. If only Nick could hear what she said. And it was so very true. Nick wasn’t exactly a saint on tour, but he wasn’t hooking up in every town, either.
Hell, not even every fifth town.
The boy needed to get out of his own way when it came to pleasures of the flesh. He kind of satiated himself with the pre-game warmup, but rarely sealed the deal after a show.
At least from what Simon could tell.
Tori grinned. “Now that is one thing we always excelled at.”
“Well, you should definitely come back with us. We’re not doing anything much tonight with the big show tomorrow.”
Simon’s shoulders tightened at the reminder. The show where he would still be on stage, but not able to sing a goddamn note.
“Are you sure it’s okay?”
Simon nodded.
Margo grinned. “See? Perfect.”
The girls chattered about the tour, about Tori’s major, and Nick. By the time they found the bus again, dusk was falling.
Nick was coming down the stairs from the bus when they walked up. “Jesus, where have you guys been?”
Tori hid behind Simon, her fingers twisting into his belt loop.
“We just walked around. Figured I’d cheer up Grumpy Cat.”
Nick snorted. “Good. He needs it.”
“How’d the interviews go?”
“Same old, same old. Did a question-and-answer session with the students. I swear they ask some of the smartest and dumbest shit.”
“Ahh, college life,” Margo said with a little wistfulness in her tone. “Speaking of college life, we found you a little something.”
Nick peered around Simon. “I see you have a third person.”
“Not just any third person,” Tori said.
Nick frowned and circled Simon. “Well, fuck.”
“Yes, yes, we have,” Tori said with a happy laugh.
Nick scooped her up off the pavement. “Well hey there, stranger.”
Tori wound her arms around his neck. “I tried to text you when I saw the tour dates, but you changed your number.”
Nick laughed. “Yeah. I left my phone at one of the interviews for the new album. Someone found it and holy shit, they blew up my phone. Posted the number on Twitter.”
Tori giggled. “Oh, I missed that one.”
“How many dirty texts did you get?”
“That number is classified,” Nick said.
“I bet I can get it out of you.”
Margo looked over at Simon, then back to Nick. “So, she really is a longtime friend.”
“I told you,” Tori said. “So, do I actually get to finally see the bus?”
Nick grinned and opened the door. “This one is far more impressive than the last one.”
Tori climbed the stairs and dragged Nick after her. He gave them a happy grin and let her lead him into the bus.
Well, maybe things weren’t going to be too boring, after all.
Simon held his arm out for Margo to go ahead of him. He went up the stairs behind her, palming her ass as he crowded into her.
Instead of the usual admonishing look, she grabbed him by the neck of his T-shirt when she got to the top stair and dragged him in for a kiss.
Her tongue was wild, stroking his until she could suck it into her mouth. He stopped her on the stairs, not willing to go inside just yet in case she changed her mind about touching him within the confines of the windows and walls.
She nipped his lower lip and backed up. “I’m thirsty.” Margo reached for the overhead compartment that she’d commandeered. She pulled down a bottle of Silver Cabo tequila. “I think a little celebration is in order.”
Where the hell di
d she get the tequila?
His eyebrow winged up and Margo grinned. “I stole it from Jazz’s bus. Not like anyone over there was going to put it to use.”
Simon snorted and she waggled her finger. “Uh uh, no sounds.”
He rolled his eyes and went to the lower drawer and pulled out four shot glasses.
Tori rolled onto her knees on the couch. “Count me in on the tequila.”
Nick got up off the couch and held up a finger. He grabbed for the handle and pulled out the cushion until it was double the size.
Tori laughed and fell on her butt. “Man. Do I want to know how many times this thing has been used?”
Nick laughed. “There’s a surprising lack of sex on this bus.”
“That I do not believe.”
Margo laughed. “He’s right. We tend to have sex in the more inspirational areas of a venue or park.”
Tori’s eyes rounded. “You and…” She pointed to Nick.
Margo shook her head. “No.” She gave a head nod in Simon’s direction. “I’m partial to this guy. Don’t ask me why.”
Simon glared at her, but she just laughed and belted a shot. “Everyone drink up.”
* * *
Margo picked up the half-gone bottle of tequila. Tori had hooked up a playlist that piped through the bus’s speakers. The bass heavy Sixx AM song curled low in her belly.
She’d been introduced to a lot of different musicians since she’d started touring with Oblivion. The guys had an eclectic mix of current music, classic rock, and traditional classic rock from the seventies.
They loved their covers and had inspired her to get creative with her strings accompaniment. So much so that she was actively looking for her own songs to surprise them with.
She and Nick had spent the previous day vetting new songs since Simon had closed himself off from them. It felt weird.
She and Nick had gone from standoffish to an easy truce, but the hours on the bus had cracked the outer layer of his shields. Margo didn’t believe she’d gotten much deeper than the surface, but she felt and responded to the genius living inside him.
All her life, she’d been surrounded by classically trained artists, but this band—these men and woman—was full of natural and instinctive talent that called to her on a deeper level.
Destroyed (Lost in Oblivion #3) Page 25
