With a practiced motion, Nat excavated a walkie-talkie from her back pocket and handed it over. “Just in case,” she said. “I’ll be back with your hearing protection and escort you to the VIP area after dinner.” Then she swiped a key card to unlock the green room door and pushed it open for him. “See you in a bit.”
“Thanks—”
Nat was already gone. Apparently she had other things to worry about while Jem was with the band.
With a deep breath, he clipped the walkie to his pants—no way was it going to fit in his pocket—and stepped inside.
The green room was playing host to not only River, Eric, and Ward, but three or four other musicians Jem vaguely recognized—touring musicians who weren’t part of the core group. No one noticed him at first, which didn’t surprise him given the volume in here. For a minute he just stood and took it in. Eric was drumming on a notebook, Ward was holding a toddler, and River and two of the other musicians seemed to be deep in conversation about fruit superiority. Any lingeringimpression Jem might’ve had that River actually fit the cool rock-star stereotype evaporated. Only a huge dork could be so passionate about mango.
Specifically, about hating it.
“—like an air freshener.” River made an exaggerated gagging noise. “If I wanted that flavor in my mouth, I’d lick a pine tree. Strawberries, on the other hand—”
“It’s a ritual,” said Amy quietly, at Jem’s elbow. “Meaningless debate before the show. Helps channel his energy.”
“I’m guessing yoga was a no-go,” Jem said, blinking as River gestured so expansively that he narrowly avoided hitting the woman next to him in the face. She dodged so fluidly Jem guessed she’d been touring with the band for a while.
Amy made a derisive sound in the back of her throat. “Have you ever tried to make him sit still? I thought the photographer at our wedding was going to tie his hands to his legs just to get a decent shot.”
Admittedly, Jem had not. He did have experience with River makinghimhold still, however, pinned under River’s mouth and on his fingers in his bed. He had a momentary flash of trying it—telling River to keep his hands where Jem could see them and sit pretty while Jem rode his dick—and then flushed and decided that was an avenue of thought he could explore another time.
“Jem!”
Apparently River had clocked his arrival.
“That’sJem?” asked the woman he’d been talking to. Her dark hair was done in two thick braids, and she wore no makeup. She could have been fifteen or thirty-five.
The expression on her face—first assessing, then calculating, then gleeful—said River was about to get yet another earful.
“Come tell Lara strawberries are the superior fruit.”
“I’m from South Carolina. It’s obviously peaches.”
Lara’s face split into a delighted grin even as River clutched at his chest. “Okay, first of all, I thought that was Georgia—”
“Oh, I forgot fruit trees respect arbitrary boundaries like state lines—”
“—secondof all, you better not be eating anyone else’s peaches.”
“You couldn’t have picked pineapple?” Amy said into the sudden chaos as everyone complained at River for the innuendo.
“Pineapples are for swingers. Even kindergarten teachers know that.”
More squawking, and then River swooped in and slung his arm around Jem’s waist and kissed him. “Hey, sunshine. I like the shirt.”
“He’d like it better on his floor,” Lara put in.
Jem had to break the second kiss because he was laughing. “I like her.”
“Back at you, Not-So-Mysterious Jem.” When Jem blinked in question, she elaborated, “River can’t shut up about you. I feel like we’re already friends.”
“Oh my God,” River said. “The two of you are not allowed to speak without a chaperone. New rule.”
Dinner in the Flat Tires green room was a chaotic free-for-all. Jem didn’t know if the group couldn’t decide or if several people had ordered assuming no one else had or what, but there was Chinese—miraculously shrimp-free—and pizza and sushi and, for some reason, KFC.
“Don’t look at me,” River said when Jem shot him a judgmental look. He clutched the bucket closer to his chest.
It was a moment so incongruous it brought Jem up short. “Since when do you eat without being tied down?”
