Evan was quiet for a few more seconds before he swore. “Fuck. You guys are pricks. Now I’m not even going to be able to jack off to these pics.”
“As you shouldn’t, you dirty old perve.”
“Hey! She sent them to me!” Evan tossed his hands up in mock surrender. “Obviously, she wanted me to jerk off to them.”
“Don’t send anything back,” I reminded him, my frown growing. “Least not until you’ve had Tai look into her.”
Evan grumbled, scowling at his phone. “Fine, fine.” He fired off a quick text. “Are you happy?”
“Moderately,” I sighed, massaging my temples. “I’d still prefer it if you checked into ages before you started communicating with fans. Remember what happened to that other band?”
I didn’t need to bring up the name of the band for Evan to catch my reference. We’d only gotten the opportunity to open for Killian Barkerbecauseof the media scandal the front man of Knight Fury caused when it came out that he’d had several inappropriate interactions with female fans younger than eighteen.
I’d decided early on that I’d keep my bed empty unless I could trust the person filling the spot, and I had. I was the pickiest out of the bunch. Not all that surprising, considering my hard-on for Connor. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking of her since our night together.
I might have told Connor I couldn’t be the boyfriend she needed, but a huge part of me wanted to try. It’s why I kept texting her casual things, but I was purposely keeping that line of communication open.
It hadn’t been long since our night together, and I’d already had to talk myself out of texting her a hundred times—and I’d given in a handful of times. Not talking to her felt wrong. It felt as if I was treating her like all the other one-night stands, and she was the furthest thing from a one-night stand. She was my forever, one night with her had just solidified the fact no one else would do.
Replaying the night again over in my head, I went back to my song…scribbling out lyrics onto the page.
About thirty-five minutes later, the tour bus went over another pothole, jarring me into the window and making my pen rush across the page mid-word. “Fuck,” I muttered, rubbing at my head where it’d hit the hard glass pane. The line through the song made it a little harder to read, but I could still make out the words.
I glanced around, noticing for the first time that I was the only one still awake. Cal had stretched out over the bench seat while Evan had disappeared into his bunk. I snapped a picture of Cal drooling like a toddler and sent it to Connor.
A few moments later she replied with a laughing emoticon, then asked me how the tour was going.
These text messages weren’t much different from previous ones we’d have over the years. Occasionally, I’d get a hilarious snapshot of Cal and share it with her to pass on to her mother and grandfather. Still, just talking to her made me feel things were right in the universe.
* * *
We arrivedwith only a couple of hours to spare before the show. We were slated to go on at nine, so we only had a little bit of time before we had to be on stage for soundcheck.
When the tour bus rolled to a stop, Calum came to. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and stood up, stretching with a yawn. Evan heard him stirring and climbed out of his bunk. The door opened and Tai stepped onto the bus, her iPad in hand.
“I’m starving. First up better be a food stop,” Evan complained, rubbing his stomach as if it hurt. I glanced out the window, we were behind the Little Caesars Arena.
“I’ve ordered food to your dressing room. We have an interview before the show withThe Detroit News. They’re doing an entertainment feature on you guys.”
Calum let out a deep groan. “Last thing I want to do right now is an interview.”
“You have about an hour to change your mind about that,” Tai said cheerfully. “We expect you to answer these questions with a personable attitude, preferably.” She handed Calum a list of questions the label had pre-approved. Cal read it over, his jaw ticking with irritation.
“Fine.” He finally conceded, earning a satisfied nod from Tai. He handed off the sheet to Evan, who had a quick read before passing it off to me.
Most of the questions were centered on the album we were on tour to promote, with a few questions about our collaborations with Killian and Two Stoned. It shouldn’t be too strenuous. We followed Tai off the bus and into the venue. Roadies were already busy bringing our instruments in off the van.
We made our way to backstage to the dressing rooms. On the table was a pile of deli sandwiches, bottles of water, and bags of chips.
“Killian, Jeramiah and Tate are just rolling up now. They’ll be here shortly,” Tai said, reading a message off her phone. “Try to save some food for them too, okay, Evan?” she added, shaking her head.
“Oh, I thought all these sandwiches were for me, my apologies.” Evan grinned. He took a huge, messy bite of the sandwich in his hand. Tai rolled her eyes, exasperated with him already.
“The reporter will be here within the hour, so make sure your game faces are on by then,” Tai instructed, tucking her hair behind her ear. Tai was perfectly made up, down to the last meticulous detail—just like her schedule.
Calum nodded, his jaw ticking with tension. Interviews made him nervous, even when the reporter sent along a list of questions in advance. That didn’t mean the reporter would stick to the pre-approved questions and dealing with that kind of nerve-wracking tension before a show wasn’t going to be pleasant.
Hopefully, the label stressed the importance of not setting off our star performer.
