“Oh, that sucks.” I take the seat across from him, studying his face. His eyes are red, and his cheeks slightly sunken in. He looks so run-down that it makes my chest ache. Every day is justsooexhausting. The constant go go go of traveling. Not to mention the actual performing every other night. They leave every bit of themselves on the stage, busting their asses to make sure the fans have a great experience. This tour feels like a hundred years and two minutes all at the same time.
“Do you think...” I trail off, unsure if I want to ask the question on my tongue.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Not nothing, what?”
“Do you think having sex after shows would help you sleep?” A grin spreads across his face, and I roll my eyes. “I’m not offering. It was a legit question.” I read somewhere that the main reason rock stars have trouble sleeping is that after a show, their bodies are full of adrenaline. If they’re not getting that out, they can get restless. I guess that’s how groupies became a thing. There was a need, and they filled it. Or got filled…
My eyes narrow, trying to study his. His pupils are a little larger than normal. Suspicion tickles the back of my mind. Is he…on something?
I shake my head. He wouldn’t do that. They all made a pact before the tour. And I know a lot of musicians probably do the same thing and still fall into the trap, but these guys aredifferent. They have good heads on their shoulders. Their love for music outweighs fame and money. Shit, they don’t even do it for those reasons, even though it’s a great perk.
“If you’re not offering, why are you asking?”
“I mean, you were doing that before, right? Like when the tour first started, was it helping?”
“Doing what?” He looks genuinely confused.
“Having sex.”
He sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Are we really having this conversation?”
“I’m only trying to help.”
“Well, I don’t need your help, Ellie. Unless you’re offering to bend over this table after every show and help me release my adrenaline.”
My shoulders straighten at his tone, cruel and unteasing. “Don’t get snippy with me.”
He drops his head. “I’m sorry.” I nod and climb from the booth. “Don’t go.”
“I’m tired. I’m going to lay down.”
I hear him sigh but he doesn’t try to stop me. I don’t know why I always push him. He’s never going to open up to me.
26
TRAVIS
My heart rate soars.Sweat pours down the side of my face and neck. I use my shirt to wipe it away, flipping off the crowd before I blow them a kiss and stride off stage. The deafening screams dissipate as we walk to the bus. My heart starts to settle, along with a heavy weight in my gut.
No one told me how fast you’d go from feeling the highest of highs to the lowest of lows in a matter of minutes. The moment I step off stage, it’s like a switch flips. Out there, I’m somebody. They love me, they need me. I’ve never felt more alive. But the minute it’s over, I’m not sure what the fuck to do with myself.
My thoughts run rampant. What do I do now? Where are we going next? When can I shower again? Every minute of every day is scheduled to a T. These hours in between should be peaceful. Time to rest and recharge, but that shit doesn't happen on the road.
“That was fucking fun,” I say, as my ass finds the couch. The guys nod along, but they don’t say anything. Each one of them brings out their phones.
“Great job, boys,” Ellie says as she slips past us toward the bunks. We’re hitting the road for another eight-hour drive already.
“Hey, baby.” I glance up at Penn’s voice. He’s got his phone in his face, just like Liam and Tanner. They’re all FaceTiming someone.
Olivia’s sweet voice hits my ears, followed by Katie’s shrill one as she talks to Tanner. Liam’s talking to his brother. They’re pretty tight. Their parents fought a ton before they eventually divorced when Liam was sixteen. They both became so bitter, Liam and Seth clung to each other in the aftermath.
“I miss you so fucking much,” Penn says to Olivia. I’m pretty sure I hear her sniffle.
Jesus.
