The intensity in his dark eyes softened.
“And what is it that you want, presently?” I asked.
He smiled, then pulled away.
“A bag of chips and another cold beer. I’m not used to sharing up on the roof.”
“What kind of chips?”
“Pringles. Sour cream and onion.”
“I don’t want to sound melodramatic,” I said, “but I think we might be soulmates. Those are my favorite, too.”
“They’re technically Milo’s chips,” Riot said over his shoulder. “He gets mad when other people steal them.”
“Your secret’s safe with me.”
“You’re the best groupie we’ve ever had.”
I scoffed, then jogged ahead until I was walking alongside him. “I’m not a groupie! Right?”
He grinned over at me. “Nah. You’re way better than a groupie.”
I reached over and gave his ass a squeeze through his jeans. He jumped, then tried to do the same to me, but I was quicker to dart out of the grasp of his fingers.
“Hey,” he said. “It’s not a big deal or anything… but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell the others about this.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“It’s just simpler if they don’t know we’re fucking,” he explained.
“No, I totally get it. I don’t want to screw up the vibe on the bus.”
We reached the back door leading to the loading dock where our tour bus was parked. Before walking through, Riot pulled me into another kiss, his hands strong and clinging.
“But,” he whispered, “I’m looking forward to doing this again.”
“Me too.” I placed my hand on his chest. “But not on a roof, okay?”
“You’re no fun.”
We laughed and walked outside together. The electricity between us remained, but dimmed down to something quieter. Something we could ignore until the next time we found some privacy.
Our dirty little secret.
17
Cash
Riot and Roxie were fucking.
I had a sixth sense for these kinds of things, going back to high school when my sister started sleeping with her Chemistry tutor. She had our parents fooled, but I saw right through it.
Now, I saw through the facade Riot was putting up. I could read him like a book, and he was pining after this girlbad. His post-show rooftop routine usually only lasted ten or fifteen minutes, but he’d been gone almost an hour.
And, coincidentally, Roxie had disappeared after the show.
“Yo, Dollar Bills!” Milo called out to me on the bus. “You listening?”
