He made a humming noise and kept reading for a second or two more, like he was finishing a paragraph. Then he marked his spot with his finger and looked sideways at her. “Yeah. Okay, actually. The bunk is quite spacious.”
She laughed.
“Better than an army cot.”
“Okay, I’ll give you that.”
“You don’t like sleeping on the bus, eh?”
That was an opening for her to tell him that she never slept well. About the disquiet, the worry she always felt but that had gotten much worse this tour.
But then he’d know that, and worry about it, and then he might figure out how she coped…so…no. That was staying in the vault.
Besides, the bus rule was that once people started to go to sleep, you did the damn same, because a band that didn’t get enough sleep didn’t perform well.
Hence her morning nap.
“No,” she finally said. “Not that well. I never do.”
“That was a lot of thinking for such a short answer.”
She took a deep breath and held it.
He laughed gently.
“I’m being a dork,” she finally admitted in a rush of words.
“I told you that you didn’t have any social skills,” he teased, low and warm, and she blushed as she let her book drop to the ground.
He’d turned, just a bit, and his hand grazed her knee as he lifted his arm and stretched it across the back of the couch.
His hand wasright there. She could lean forward and press her lips to those long, strong fingers.
Her leg slid off the couch and she shifted.
Now she wouldn’t even need to lean forward.
Instead she turned the other way, swinging around so they sat side by side, thigh against thigh. “Share your footrest,” she whispered.
He dropped his far leg and looped his foot under the leg of the chair, pulling it closer. “Nope,” he whispered back. “This isn’t going to work. My legs are longer than yours.”
“Mmm.” She shifted again, abandoning the shared footrest idea. Her hand brushed his thigh as she turned to face him, this time with her legs curled beneath her.
“Liana…” Yes, she liked her name rolling off his tongue. Even if it was accompanied by a wary narrowing of his eyes.
“Yes?”
His phone vibrated between them. He paused, then leaned away from her and dug it out. He glanced at the screen. “This is my brother. He wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important.”
She waved her hand. “Yeah, of course. I’ll go read in my room.”
“Stay.” He touched her shoulder before standing up. “I’ll step outside.”
— —
Dean hitthe answer button as he levered the bus door open. “Sean. What’s up?”
“Hey.”
