The slow nod that Sacha gave us in return made it seem like he wasn’t entirely sure whether Eli was lying or not. Smart guy. You could never trust Eli Anthony Barreto. Ever.
“We’re twins,” I explained. “I’m filling in for Zeke the rest of the tour.” When Sacha quirked an eyebrow—a very dark one on his smooth, almost pale skin—I remembered that tonight would only be the bands’ fourth tour date together. He might not know who exactly Zeke was. “He was the old merch guy.”
By the way he nodded and snapped his fingers, it was obvious he hadn’t known Zeke’s name. “Right.”
Someone yelled from inside the bus, telling us to hurry up. Eli squeezed my shoulder. “Grab your stuff, stinky, and I’ll meet you inside.”
My stuff. The stranger’s butt. Ugh. My face got all hot again, and I found myself smiling nervously.
I nodded and watched my brother and Mason retreat into the bus, leaving me with the man whose ass I’d just kicked. He smiled and gestured toward the open compartment. “I’ll get your bag if you promise not to kick me again.”
Throwing my hands up in surrender, I shook my head. “No ass-kicking, I swear.” I couldn’t help but choke a little before adding, “I won’t call you a dick again either.” What was wrong with me? What I’d done was bad enough, and then calling him—well, Mason really—a dick was the cherry on a shit sundae.
He tipped his head back and laughed, the sound uninhibited and wonderful. “Deal.” A moment later, he was asking me which suitcase was mine prior to pulling it out. I started yanking out clean underwear, a shirt and sweatpants while he finally managed to retrieve the big black suitcase he’d been rummaging through when the ass-kicking incident happened.
Dread knotted my stomach as I remembered what I’d done. Humiliated, I zipped up my suitcase and shoved it back inside the compartment. “Your show was amazing,” I squeaked out, keeping my eyes toward the trailer hitched up to the bus. “I wasn’t sure what to expect, but it was great.”
“Thank you,” he murmured softly. It was impossible not to absorb the tone of his voice when he thanked me. There wasn’t a hint of superiority or conceitedness in it at all. He sounded pretty genuine. “First time?” he asked.
“Yes.” I found myself toeing the ground, feeling awkward. “I hadn’t heard of you guys before tonight.” For a split second, I thought about telling him that I thought his voice was beautiful, but I didn’t want to sound like a suck-up.
“I’m glad you liked it.” Sacha zipped up his suitcase, holding a bundle of clothes to his chest. He turned to look at me, a kind smile on his five o’clock-shadowed face. “Did you get what you needed?” I nodded and followed after him silently before he waved me into the bus first with the towel in his hand. He winked. “Don’t want you to forget about our deal so soon.”
Ugh. I was never going to live this down.
“I’m really, really sorry,” I insisted, still feeling horrible as I climbed up the steps into the bus. My face was getting red all over again.
Why the hell had I done that? My subconscious answered:because you really believed he was Mason, and if it had been, no one would have thought twice.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” my twin bellowed the moment I stepped a foot past the curtain and into the living space.
I stopped like an idiot, or better yet, like a deer caught in the headlights. Eli clapped loudly until the low buzzing of chatter inside stopped. I couldn’t help but notice that there really weren’t any ladies on the bus besides me—unless you counted Mason and Gordo—and I knew my twin well enough to accept that he wouldn’t refer to me as a female. “Everyone, now that the asshole we kicked off the bus earlier today is gone, I want to introduce y’all to our newest addition.”
He reached out to grab my hand, throwing up both our arms like I’d won a boxing match. “This is my baby sister, Gaby. She’ll be with us for the next few months.” He shook my hand, still in mid-air. “Flabby, say hi,” he instructed me as if I was a little kid. Fucking Eli.
I grinned nervously at the five new faces looking me intently, and let my brother wave my hand for me. “Hi, guys.”
A low murmur of multiple “Hi” greetings were spoken while I yanked my hand away from Eli’s grasp. At that very instant a hand landed on the small of my back. Turning my head over my shoulder just barely, I saw that it was the only person it could have been—Sacha. Up close and under the decent lighting of the bus, his skin looked clear and a little glossy from how sweaty he’d become during the concert. He really was good-looking, and a little taller than Mase as well.
“Don’t bend over in front of her. She likes to kick people in the ass,” he laughed, giving me a sly smile before shimmying his way around us to walk to the back of the bus.
I groaned to myself while Eli and Mason laughed like it was the funniest thing they’d ever heard. Minutes later, I found myself squished between Mase and Gordo while the bus driver steered the traveling hotel and trailer to where I’d been informed we’d be showering that night. The couches on either side of the bus were long, but it seemed like everyone was crammed into that front area closest to the door, including the narrow kitchen and bathroom. After the mini tour Eliza had given me hours before, I knew that past the door by the bathroom were the twelve bunks we’d be sleeping in, and at the farthest end of the bus was a small room with a U-shaped couch along the walls.
Mason introduced me to two of the guys from The Cloud Collision, a big muscular guy named Julian and a lanky one named Isaiah that I recognized as being the guitar players for the band. I caught Sacha standing in the kitchen, drinking something steaming from a ceramic mug, still half-naked. Still unbelievably hot, if not hotter than before. The yellow lighting in the bus did wonders for the lean cut of his chest and for his narrow hips with their cut oblique muscles, all of which then did wonders for my panties—I mean my hormones.
“You should wear shirts like that more often.”
I slid my gaze over to Mason, whose entire side was pressed against mine. I shouldn’t have been as surprised to see his eyes on my “shirt,” and by my shirt, I really meant my breasts. The tank top had begun to ride low enough so that the edge of my lavender bra was visible. Instead of replying, I frowned and tugged my shirt up enough so at least the girls weren’t hanging out so much… since half an inch of boobage was apparently too much to begin with.
When I met Mason’s gaze again he was smirking, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “I can still see them.”
“No way.” I rolled my eyes, trying not to be too self-conscious. It wasn’t like I didn’t get the same reaction from him every time we saw each other over the last three years. Well, it was the same reaction from just about every guy that wasn’t my brothers or dad. I’d spent ten years of my life trying to keep people’s attentions away from my chest and now, after everything, I still didn’t want people looking there for longer than a quick glance.
Gordo nudged me from his spot on my other side. With hair so dark it was almost blue, a beard that was so thick and wiry it could pass as pubic hair and his naturally dark skin tone even tanner than normal, his face was one of the most familiar things in my life. “Are we going to be on the same team together?”
“The same team…?” And then I remembered what team he was talking about. “Hell, no.” No, no, no,no.
“Oh come on, Flabs,” Gordo insisted, his dark, nearly pupil-less eyes narrowing.
