“Uh, what articles and what pictures?”
Jules’s face stretches into an awkward grimace and I take a step closer to Sin, pulling her into my lap. Something tells me we won’t want to hear whatever Jules has to say next.
“Ah, I kinda forgot you haven’t been up all night, too. There are... some, uh, pictures of you online. You and Cal... and Micah...”
“Right.”
“And of you with Iri... and Dorian. They’re... well, they’re seriously sexy, babe.” Jules taps on her laptop, which is open on the table, and spins it around so Sin can see.
I lean forward, scanning the images at the same time as the woman in my lap.
There’s one of Sin sandwiched between Micah and me at the airport. I have my arm wrapped tightly around her, holding her up as she straddles Micah’s waist while my face is buried in her neck.
The next one is of Dorian and Sin. I don’t know where the hell they are, but he’s on his knees in front of her, looking about two seconds from hiking up her skirt and burying his face in her sweet cunt.
Then there’s the picture of Iri right after last night’s gig, outside the arena. He’s staring at Sin with such hunger in his eyes.
Jules is right. A lot of them are downright erotic.
There are dozens of pictures. Some are slightly blurry and others are in perfect focus. They were taken over the past few weeks, stretching back as far as to that night before we left the city to head to the cabin. One photo shows Micah and Sin standing just outside the hotel we stayed in, and he’s staring down at her like she’s the first ray of sunlight after a long winter.
“You’re right,” Sin replies, sounding a little breathless. “These are hot as fuck. Creepy, since it’s clear someone’s been following us on all our dates, but still—” She fans herself. “—I’d quite like to frame some of these.”
“We could start our own horny scrapbook,” Dorian replies.
“We should,” Sin mutters, her eyes still on the screen.
Then she scrolls down, pausing when she reaches the comments section.
One thing I’ve learned from ten years in the band. You never read the comments.
“Ah, apparently I’m skanky trash and a fat bitch who shouldn’t be within ten feet of you guys.”
Jules winces. “Yeah, welcome to the internet. The comments are fucking toxic. You should never bother with them, especially when they’re about you. That’s a surefire way to never wanting to leave the house again.”
Iri reaches over and drags the laptop away from Sin, shutting the screen with a snap.
“Right, we need a statement on you boning the band, Sin,” Jules says. “We’ve also moved our next flight up to today. Once we’reacross the ocean, no one’s going to notice you anywhere near as much as they will here.”
“Our statement is that our private life is our own fucking business,” Iri growls.
Sin has stiffened in my lap. Her gaze on the floor.
“All right, love?” I ask, tipping her chin up so she’s looking me in the eye.
“I guess my face is out there now, huh? It might sound dumb, but I never expected to see myself plastered all over the trashy online sites.”
Guilt hits me like a punch to the gut and I press my lips to hers.
I know how careful she’s been for years now.
And we’ve just exposed her to the world.
Fuck.
“Don’t worry, love. Whatever happens, we’ll protect you.”
I just hope I can keep that promise.
