“Let’s go,” Tanner calls, strolling to the front of the bus. “We only have one hour to rehearse before the bar opens.”
I drag my ass out of my seat and follow everyone. We’re supposed to be surprising people in the area with a pit-stop show, but with two big-ass buses out front, I’m not sure how surprised they’re going to be.
The hour of rehearsal flies by, thankfully. The bar manager conveniently left two bottles of liquor in our room. He must be new. You never leave the giftbeforethe show. Not if you want the band to be sober.
A quick scope of the room is done to make sure my bandmates aren’t going to bust back in here, then I uncap the lid from the Jack Daniels, and take a drink. Then I take another, place the bottle on the table, and slip out.
“Oh my God! You’re Travis Beckett!” some girl screams in my ear as soon as I step into the main area. It was another one of Calvin’s bright ideas to come in early and see if anyone recognized us before we took the stage. Tanner argued, but even Ellie agreed it would be good for PR, so here we are.
I give the girl a fake smile but push on toward the bar. I haven’t drunk enough water the last few days, and with my constant dry mouth, I need to guzzle about a gallon before going on stage.
The girl follows, and Penn appears right on my ass, too, chasing me to the bar, only moving over an inch when he hears me order water.
“And you’re Penn Hayze. Holy shit! Is the whole band here?” The blonde girl shoots up on her toes, searching for the other half of Loose Threads.
“How about you go see if you can find them?” I grumble, not expecting her to hear, but she does. Instead of being offended, her face lights up like I just gave her a challenge, and she’s up for it. She scurries through the crowd, on a mission.
“Someone’s an ass,” Penn says, arching his brow at me. I drink my water, not answering him, and he goes on. “Girls exhausting you already? You haven’t been on the prowl for a minute.” He straightens, looking around like he just came to some sort of realization.
I refuse to react, but my heart rate spikes a little. He’s like a goddamn bloodhound.
“Is there a reason you’ve kept your dick out of groupies?” He leans forward, keeping his voice low. “A petite brunette sort of reason?”
“Nope.”
He scans my face. “She works for us, dude.”
I roll my eyes, sarcasm thick in my tone. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
“You’re different around her.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You are. You’re differentperiod.”
“Am fucking not,” I snarl.
“I’ve seen the way you watch her. Constantly. I can say that because I know what the look in your eyes means. It’s not good, man. Not right now, anyway. Once we’re home, do whatever you want.”
My molars grind together as he drones on and on. He never talks this much.
“Just don’t do anything stupid that’s going to make shit awkward.”
My hand slaps the bar top. “I’m not doing anything! I don’t have ‘a look.’ You’re wrong.” I don’t like lying to him, but everyone has been waiting for me to fuck up. So Ellie and I fooled around a bit. And guess what? No one died, everything’s fine. Besides, we’re not doing it anymore.
“I know you. I’ve seen what you look like when you’re in lo?—”
I glare at him. “Don’t push your love bullshit on me.”
His lip twitches, and he opens his mouth, about to hit me with another smartass comment, I’m sure, when his attention is pulled to his ringing phone. “It’s Olivia.”
“Really?” I gasp, feigning shock. He ignores me and hustles through the bar, phone pressed to his ear. As soon as he’s out of sight, I wave the bartender over and order a shot of tequila. I need to wash away his comments.
Was he about to say love? Psht.
He’s delusional. Just because he’s obsessed with someone doesn’t mean everyone else has to be. He can keep his disease over there. I don’t want it.
I toss the shot back quickly and order two more, then pullthe pack of gum from my pocket and toss a couple of pieces in my mouth to mask the smell.
