Over on the bed, Violet shot a glare in my direction like I was breaking some unspoken rule. Silence stretched in the bus. Three seconds. Five. Ten.
“Nowhere,” Riot finally said.
I wanted to ask more, but I was afraid of making Riot angry. There was a tension in his voice that I couldn’t quite place. Plus, Violet was still pointedly glaring at me.
I nodded to let her know that I got the message, then pulled the privacy curtain closed.
But I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about Riot’s captivating performance tonight, and the intoxicating scent of him that had filled my nose the moment he climbed into his bunk. I could hear him shifting above me, the mattress creaking every time he rolled over.
Eventually I did fall asleep, and my dreams were filled with none other than the lead singer of Cherry Midnight. Riot was on stage, practically making love to the microphone in front of the adoring fans. I was one of them; I was down in the front row, just like the show in Austin.
And then he gestured to me. Inviting me up on stage. I hopped the barrier and climbed the steps until I was standing next to him. Riot smiled, then turned and sang the rest of the song tome. It was a song I didn’t recognize, a slow ballad that didn’t seem like Cherry Midnight’s style.
But I was utterly captivated by Riot.
And then, when the song was over and the fans were cheering, Riot grabbed a handful of my shirt and tugged me toward him. Our lips locked together automatically, electricity and lust pinging between us. He felt and tasted better than I ever could have imagined. The crowd barely registered to us as he pulled me closer, hooking an arm around my waist, deepening the kiss…
“Hey. Muse,” Violet’s voice woke me up.
“Yeah?” I groaned.
“I ought to call you sleeping beauty. Just wanted to warn you that Cash is getting antsy about traffic. We’re gonna hit the road. Keep sleeping, if you want, but it might get bumpy.”
“Thanks. I’m getting up.” I rubbed my eyes with a fist and crawled out of my bunk as the bus engine rumbled to life. The other bunks and bed were empty; I was the last one awake.
“Why are we leaving so early?” I asked while joining the rest of the band up near the front.
“Milo wants to get brunch in Fort Worth,” Violet replied.
“Brunch?” I blinked. “Not exactly the rock and roll lifestyle I expected.”
“It’s not,” Violet said. “What an astute observation.”
“You haven’t even tried it!” Milo complained. “Do you know how many calories I burn playing the drums for two hours? I’mstarving. I need a brunch amount of food. Pancakes, eggs, bacon, toast…”
“We’ll stop at the first Waffle House we see once we’re out of Houston.”
“Waffle Housesucks. I want to go to a real sit-down brunch place. Somewhere with mimosas.”
“Sleep well?” Riot asked me.
His voice vibrated through my skin and into my bones, instantly waking me up better than coffee ever could. I tried to play it cool, like Riot was just a friendly neighbor and not a sinfully-sexy rock star who was currently staringveryintently at me.
“Slept great!” I lied. “The bunks aren’t so bad.”
“Told you!” Milo said. “They’re great.”
“The answer is still no,” Cash said calmly from the driver’s seat.
“Ohcome on.”
“I’m not giving you my bed privileges,” Cash said. It sounded like they were reigniting an old argument.
Violet rolled her eyes and clapped me on the arm. “Ignore these fools. You want some Pop-Tarts? I’ve got a box I hide away.”
“You said you didn’t have any!” Milo complained.
“They’re women’s Pop-Tarts. They were all out of men’s,” Violet replied.
