“Shh,” I said. “They’re getting on the bus.”
We tried to act casual as our lead singer and his muse climbed onto the bus. They were laughing about something, the end of whatever conversation they’d been having outside.
“She found me,” Riot explained, like he knew what we were all wondering. “On the roof.”
“Always on the roof,” Milo said. “Couldn’t be me. I get all woozy if I’m higher than five feet in the air!”
“Our stage tonight was almost ten feet high,” Violet pointed out.
“Which is why my drums are at the back of stage, and not near the edge!”
While they joked, I was watching Roxie and Riot. They seemed to have relaxed a small, almost imperceptible degree. Like they were relieved they hadn’t been caught.
To me, that was as much as an admission.
As the two lovebirds split up and went about their business, I exchanged a look with Milo, who grimaced. I wondered what he thought about the whole thing. When it came to crazy ideas, he liked to jump right in to see what would happen. That was the opposite of my general attitude; I preferred to take my time, gathering information before making any big decisions.
But with Roxie?
I wanted to throw caution to the wind and dive right in.
18
Roxie
Nobody knew that we’d just had sex.
Whew.
We’d totally played it cool when we got back on the bus. There were no accusations or suspicious looks, as far as I could tell. Cash was watching us, but he seemed like a watchful kind of guy in general.
Riot and I shared a post-concert drink with the rest of the band, and then we all began winding down for the night. That flew in the face of the mental image I had of rock bands staying up all night partying after a show. Apparently everyone was exhausted from the past few days. I couldn’t blame them—I was worn out, and all I’d done waswatchthem play.
I climbed into my bunk and closed the curtain. There wasn’t much room, but there was a cubby for my backpack and a shelf for my phone and other small items. I actually enjoyed my little cocoon of privacy. It reminded me of camping in a tent with my dad when I was ten years old.
But I couldn’t sleep, despite my exhaustion. A giddy, silly mood had come over me.
I had alover.
When it came to dating, the past year hadn’t been great for me. Out of the three men I’d dated—Dan, Jeremy, and Christopher—only one (Jeremy) lasted more than a month. And that relationship was more out of convenience than actual chemistry. Jeremy was a wet blanket of a man who seemed good on paper, but didn’t spark anythingrealinside me.
I’d never felt anything like this before. Thinking about Riot excited and thrilled me. Our chemistry wasinsane, in the best possible way. I felt like a teenager who had fallen in love for the first time and thought it was the most important thing in the world.
Obviously, Riot wasn’t my boyfriend. I didn’t knowwhatwe were. It was probably just meaningless sex, but that was still great! It felt freeing to do whatever I wanted, to toss aside caution and give in to the temptation of the tall, gorgeous, tattooed man.
Just play it cool, I told myself.Don’t think about it too much. Relax and see where it goes. There’s still three more months on tour, and a lot can change.
That didn’t stop me from smiling until I fell asleep, though.
Our next show was in Nashville. At a rest stop along the way, Riot and I were able to share a private kiss on the bus while the others went inside to use a real bathroom and to refresh our stockpile of snacks. But instead of tiding us over, the kiss—which included a lot of grinding and grabbing and squeezing—left both of us hungry for more.
For the next two days, we had to settle for secret smiles and private glances.
But Riot’s creativity seemed to be thriving. He was constantly sitting in one of the bus chairs with a guitar across his lap andsheets of music in front of him. I found it interesting that he played an electric guitar on stage, but did all of his songwriting with an acoustic guitar. I was tempted to ask about it, but I also didn’t want to interrupt him while he was writing new songs.
“I don’t want to play cards with you again,” Violet groaned.
“Comeon,” Milo complained. “I’m bored!”
