“It’s true.”
“It’s not my business if it’s not.”
“Isn’t it?”
Corina narrowed her eyes, frowning hard enough to draw Ollie away from Shay’s bed. He padded to the kitchen and loaded the coffee machine. The temptation to take a mug back to Shay’s bed was so fucking strong, but dawn had brought with it perspective, and whatever Corina was trying to convey with her glare was probably right. He had no business falling asleep in Shay’s bed.
You had no business kissing him again either.
Semantics.
Ollie retreated to his own bunk, then realised he’d left his laptop behind. Under the weight of Corina’s scowl, he crept back down the aisle and retrieved it from where it had become wedged between Shay’s bed and the wall. Shay stirred. Ollie wanted to brush his hair out of his face and kiss his temple. He settled for drawing the curtain around him and tiptoeing away.
He sat on his bed and opened the laptop. The film from last night was still on the screen. Ollie didn’t remember falling asleep, but he couldn’t recall watching much of the film either, and he certainly didn’t remember pausing it. If the screen was right, Shay had stopped it thirty-seven minutes in. Which meant he’d consciously let Ollie spend the rest of the night on his bed.
Ollie shivered and imagined Shay in his king-size bed in London. How they could utilise the space before they passed out wrapped up in each other. It was there; Ollie could almost taste it, but the fantasy wasn’t real. In a few weeks’ time, Ollie would go home alone, and Shay would carry on living his best life.
And it was better that way… for everyone.
For long minutes, Ollie was almost convinced as he stared at a freeze-framed Tom Hardy, but his heart protested, and the conflict raging inside made his skin burn all over again.Fuck, fuck, fuck.It was moments like these when Ollie wanted to die. Fleeting flashes of absolute despair. They always faded to a dull roar of misery, but they hurt all the same.
He rubbed his chest and opened up the research document he needed for his next session with Shay. Corina couldn’t spare him until they reached Sunderland, but they had shows booked in Newcastle first. A week ago, Ollie would’ve left the tour and gone home, rejoining at the last possible opportunity. Now he wanted to run home so badly his bones ached, but the pull of the sleeping man two beds away was stronger.
Wasn’t it?
* * *
“We cando it ourselves,” Shay said. “I don’t get what the problem is.”
Jumbo flicked a balled-up crisp packet at him. “That’s because you’ve never had to haul your own kit around. If we have to lug our gear onto every stage for the next few weeks, I guarantee someone—probably you—is gonna drop down dead.”
Ollie winced. Jumbo was hardly known for his tact, but that was a low blow. Shay managed his condition as well as he could on the road, and he had more energy on stage than any performer Ollie had ever seen. Certainly more than Jumbo, who had a tendency to hide behind his double bass.
He did have a point, though. Losing their roadie squad to a postpub squabble meant extra hours before and after each show, more stress, and less time to recuperate between gigs. They were stretched thin as it was.
The band continued to bicker. Ollie kept his head down. The bus was on the road, and he’d sensed Shay watching him since he’d woken up an hour ago, but for the first time in a while, he had the monster under control. Had it trapped in the corner while he fed it scraps of anxiety and got on with his work. He couldn’t deny that the argument going on around him helped.
Or that witnessing Shay lose his temper was shamefully hot.
Knew he was a firecracker.
Ollie opened his emails. He ignored most of them and clicked on the latest one from his boss, asking him how he was getting on, and questioning why his expense receipts totalled next to nothing when the last dude they’d sent on a band tour had spent half a year’s salary on booze.
Morning, Amir,
Project is going fine, thanks. Shay is responding well on film, and the research is holding up. Doing some more digging on the road, and hope to finish up in Leeds at the end of the tour.
Ollie
The tour actually concluded in Derby—Shay’s home city—but Ollie had been unable to find a connection to the city that wasn’t tied to his adoptive parents. He sent the email, not expecting a reply anytime soon from Amir’s saturated inbox.
An email pinged straight back.
Ollie, I know all that. I was more interested in your welfare.
Amir
Ollie sighed. Amir was a great boss on a creative level—his predilection for giving Ollie free rein on fluid projects was the reason Ollie had signed with Sky—but emotionally he was a pain in the arse.
