Ellie’s been posting her on our social media pages, and people are eating it up. She’s already more famous than us.
“Where’s Cinnamon?” I ask Penn as I walk through the kitchen.
“Hell if I know.”
I scoff and keep moving. I bet a million dollars I know where she is. “Liam, get your filthy fucking hands off my cat!” I rip his curtain back, and there they are. Curled up together on his bed, the cat tucked under his chin while they both sleep.
I reach out, about to scoop her up, but Ellie smacks the back of my head. “Stop!” she whisper-shouts. Then she pulls out her phone and snaps a picture. I glare at her, and she rolls her eyes. “It’s for the fans.”
“Psht.”
“Oh, uh, hey.”
I glance down at Liam. “Oh, good, you’re awake.”
Ellie huffs out a laugh, walking to her bunk.
“How was she?” I ask.
“Good.” He yawns. “All she does is sleep and eat. And cuddle,” he adds, stroking her fur.
Yeah, that’s enough of that. I grab my cat, and she purrs, clearly happy to see me. “Hey, sweet pea. I’m back.” I stare at Liam. “Don’t get too attached. Just because she’s a ginger doesn’t mean you get to be obsessed with her. Don’t make it weird.”
His eyes go wide, and his mouth hangs open. “What the hell, dude? I didn’t do anything!”
“Travis!” Ellie scolds from her bed. “Leave him alone. She’s not your cat!”
I gasp. “Of course she is! Shh, don’t listen to her, Cin.”
Liam shakes his head at me, and I flip him off, going to my bunk and climbing up. We don’t have long before we have shit to do. I’m going to take a little catnap.
I thoughtI’d be dragging ass this week. After all the running Ellie and I had to do for my hearing—driving and flying—only to turn around and rush back for the next show. Then another show.
I’ve been running on less than eight hours of sleep the last four days, but I feel good, barely dealing with withdrawal symptoms now. It’s definitely ’cause I fucked my frustrations and chronic blue balls away with Ellie.
She pounced on me in the hotel room and rode me to paradise after being so jealous she couldn’t stand it, and who the fuck was I to deny her?
She doesn’t know it, but I watched that guy at the pub track her the minute she walked away from the table, waiting to corner her and see if he had a shot. My blood was boiling, but I played it off. Those girls sat next to me, going on about who the hell knows what while I kept one eye on Ellie. I was just about to go over there and tell that guy to kick rocks when she walked out.
We stayed tangled in those bedsheets until we had to catch our flight the next morning. Being inside her was even better than I remember, and like the addict I am, I’m fiending for another hit of her.
She might be the solution to all my issues. Tired? Fuck Ellie until I can’t see straight, then crash out. Sad? Eat her pussy until she screams and pulls a handful of my hair from the roots. Bored? Finger fuck her under a blanket on the couch of the tour bus while everyone else is oblivious. I haven’t done that one yet, but I want to.
“You’re smiley today,” Penn notes, tilting his head to study me.
I relax my face. I was thinking about all the ways I can make Ellie scream. “Can I not be in a good mood?”
He taps his pencil against his book, continuing to stare at me, probably reading my goddamn mind. Sneaky fuck.
“Fuck you,” I scoff, and he smirks.
He knows.
I don’t know how, but I can feel it. Not that he cares or thatIcare he knows. It’s happening, and I don’t give a flying fuck what anyone thinks about it. Everyone loves Eliie. Their only concern will be us working together should something happen—like me messing it up—but I’m not even entertaining those thoughts right now.
I checkthe clock for the third time. It’s after 1 a.m., and I don’t hear a sound coming from anywhere on this bus—save for Liam’s light snoring.
I’ve been lying here for hours pretending to sleep, when really, I’ve been waiting out Penn’s cockblocking insomnia. I feel bad for him, but I feel bad for me, too. My dick has been waiting for this moment since Ellie confessed her dirty little dream to me in that pizza pub.
