Not kissing her is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.
I don’t know what to do with myself.
Reed hugs her so hard that he picks her up off the ground and spins her. Bonnie brings her in to lick her face after. Zeb fist bumps her, and when she turns to me, I can see the same turmoil in her eyes as is swimming in mine.
Thank fuck she has enough sense to hug me before I hesitate for too long. The smell of smoke and fire from the pyrotechnics lingers in her hair. Even still, I smell the orange scent of her soap in the crook of her neck.
“The next time you avoid me all day like this before a show, I’m bending you over my knee and turning your ass as pink as your cunt,” I say into her hair.
She laughs softly. “There’s a threat I wouldn’t mind entertaining,” she replies.
“I mean it, Andi,” I tell her.
“I didn’t want to interfere with the band or distract you,” she says.
“The only thing distracting me today was the thought of what I’m going to do to you later as punishment.”
She pulls slightly out of my arms and squeezes my biceps, the grin on her face nearly causing me to bend her over right here.
“Mads! Party!” Reed shouts down the hall. He thrusts his arms in the air and lets out a loud yell, and I curse aloud.
Andi laughs as if she can tell what I’m thinking.
“Andi! Party!” Reed also shouts.
My brows raise at the face she makes, and she shoves my stomach when I laugh at her.
“Where exactly are we partying?” Andi asks.
“Probably the fucking Attic,” I say.
She huffs, both of us staring at Reed as he slaps the hands of every person he walks by, his excitement like an epidemic.
My manager, Avie, clears his throat nearby, and I frown.
“Something wrong, Av?” I ask.
Avie is on his phone already, and I realize he’s calling The Red Attic to let them know we’re coming.
And possibly clear the club of any protestors.
“No fights,” Avie says, pointing his finger at me. “Something happens—if you even fucking see that shithead—you call me. You call James. You give that asshat no attention. He’s a bullet waiting in the chamber. Heartless has a team on his fucking ass, but until he’s signed the NDA and paid off, you give him nothing.”
Andi balks. “Wait—paying him off? You’re giving him money?”
“If we need to—” Avie holds up one finger to us as someone answers the phone, then looks at me “—Hey. I mean it. No fuck ups,” he tells me.
Avie walks away, and Andi sinks her face into her hand. “I’m getting too old for this shit,” she mutters. “Fuck it. Let’s go.” She glances back over her shoulder in my direction. “You can ride with me. I’ll protect you,” she adds with a smirk.
Hell yes.
“Sold.”
By the time we pack up and head back to sign a few autographs, my adrenaline is starting to wear. Zeb hands me an energy drink, which I kick back to wake myself up.
Fans have lined up across the back fence, and when we leave through the back door, their cheers echo off the building.
James is waiting with the Escalade at the end of the line. I look around for Andi and her car, though the moment I open the back door, I realize why I don’t see her car.
