"We'll figure it out," I promised, letting him peel off my shirt. His thumbs brushed over my nipples slowly. Looking away from the movement of his fingers, I smiled, taking in that handsome face. "We have to."
"Twelve men?" The van driver, who was also our translator, confirmed with Julian our group number before relaying the information to the receptionist working at the front desk of the hotel in Muenster.
I shot a side-glance over to my brother, who was standing next to me. "Pretty sure I'm not a man," I whispered.
Eli snickered, throwing an elbow out to catch me on my lowest rib. "Notice how no one bothered to correct him?"
"Jerk."
"Just speaking the truth, Flabby. You're pretty much a dude." He laughed. "Except Sacha thinks you're pretty, and I guess you do have nice hair."
"I think your hair is nicer, you douchebag.” I elbowed him back. "But thanks for telling me you like my hair."
Eliza rolled his eyes, poking me in the forehead before we followed Christof, our translator extraordinaire, down the hallway that led to our hotel rooms. "Want to go eat at that little restaurant we passed on the walk over here?"
I nodded at him, pausing at a door that Christof explained would be my room. My brother followed after him. I’d barely opened the door when a presence came up behind me. "Princess,” Sacha said as he reached over me and pushed the door open wider.
"Sas," I grinned up him, stepping inside.
He followed in after me, dropping his bag right by the door. "I missed you today."
"Me too," I said, dropping my bag alongside his and wrapping my arms around his waist.
He'd been busy all day. There'd been two interviews with German magazines, a television interview, then a soundcheck in a venue with bad PA equipment that took twice as long as it should have. We'd only seen each other when we’d woken up and had breakfast, and then in passing during the day. I'd spent the afternoon at thePrinzipalmarktand the Pablo Picasso museum with Carter before we headed back to set up merch.
How the hell was I supposed to cope with not being around him in a few days? Instead of being separated by doors and fans, it was going to be thousands of miles and mountain ranges that separated us. It made my heart ache thinking about it.
"I'm really tired," he murmured, kissing my nose. "My throat is starting to hurt, too."
I winced. "Eli said something about going to eat, do you want me to bring you something back so you can stay here and rest?"
Sacha nodded, sighing. "Please. Just food. I'm just going to make some tea, shower and lay down—"
"Naked?" I asked him, waggling my eyebrows to get his mind away from feeling crappy.
He snickered. "For you, anything."
Planting another kiss on his lips that lingered decades, I dropped another one on his throat and started backing away toward the door before stopping. What the hell was I doing leaving? “Do you want me to stay?”
“I’ll be fine. I’d rather stay here and you bring me something back.”
I eyed him for a second before nodding. "Call Eli if you need me, okay?"
"I will," he scoffed halfheartedly. "Cheap-ass."
Still on my case about refusing to turn on my cell phone so that I could avoid roaming charges, I winked and walked out of the room. Eli stood down the hall with his hands buried in the pockets of his loose shorts. He waved me over before we made our way out of the hotel and toward an open restaurant.
"You all right?" I asked.
He nodded slowly, the growing curls on his head catching my attention. "I still feel like shit, and I’m ready to go home."
"I hear ya.” Because I did. I was tired of hotels, little to no privacy, and always being on the move, but the idea of not seeing the people I’d grown so close to over the last three months regularly, bummed me out even more.
Opening the door before me, he narrowed his eyes. "Did you figure out what you're doing yet when we get back?"
I groaned. "No."
"No idea?" He didn't believe me. I usually had a plan for everything.
