On the bus, I rushed to my bunk and began sorting through my clothes. Tonight, I needed to look as good as ever if I wanted to get Oliver back.
When we got to the venue, the guys left the bus for sound check but I stayed behind. I kept hoping that Oliver would come out of Ritual Disruption’s bus that was parked just a little away, but all I could see were silhouettes moving behind the windows. Around eight pm, I finally saw Oliver, Jamie, and their two touring musicians, Andy and Vincent, leave together. I followed Oliver’s back with my eyes, hoping he’d turn around and see me, but he never did.
Thinking that my best chance at seeing him before the show was if I hung around backstage, I left the bus a few minutes after. In the greenroom, Bleeding Moonlight was readying to go on for their set, and I wished the guys good luck before settling down on one of the sofas and pulling out my phone. Zoey and Sophie knew about everything that had happened and had spent the past few days reassuring me that everything with Oliver would be fine.
I was typing a message when the door opened.
It was Ritual Disruption and their entourage. I saw Jamie walk in and anger surged through me at the sight of the singer. He was leaning on someone as he walked—obviously already drunk or high.Typical.
Then a familiar head of tousled-blond hair appeared through the door, and my stomach fluttered. I waved at Oliver, but he didn’t see me. His gaze was fixed on Jamie, a wrinkle between his brows.
He watches after him all the time. It must be exhausting.
I rose off the sofa and hurried toward the door, eager to get Oliver’s attention.
He saw me when I was a few feet away, and his lips curl into a familiar smirk.
“Hi.” I gave him a nervous smile.
His gaze skated down my entire form before coming back to my eyes. I nearly squealed in triumph at the dark heat of his gaze.
The outfit had worked.
“There you are,” he said, glancing back in Jamie’s direction one final time before motioning for me to follow him outside the room.
“My God, Ivy. You don’t know the bullshit I’ve had to put up with the past few days,” he said as soon as the door closed behind me.
My heart dropped. “Let’s go find a private place to talk?”
He didn’t take my hand as we weaved past the roadies rushing around backstage. When we turned a corner, Oliver opened a door labeled “Supply Closet.”
“Go on in.”
I rushed inside with him right behind me, and not a second later, he turned me around and claimed my lips with a harsh kiss.
I moaned in his mouth, days of anticipation unravelling through me in waves of relief. He still wanted me. We were fine.
“We don’t have much time,” he said, immediately pulling my crop top over my head. “Jamie has gone crazy. Not that he wasn’t before, but he’s really out of his mind now. I’ve had to deal with his shit non-stop for the past forty-eight hours. I couldn’t get away to see you.”
His right hand was kneading my right breast, his left was on my ass. I ground into his hardness, eager to prove that those two days hadn’t cost us anything important.
“What has he done?” I asked.
“I don’t want to talk about it. It’s not worth our time.”
The dismissiveness in his tone made me pause. Didn’t he owe me at least some explanation for why he hadn’t reached out these past two days?
“You still want to make me feel good?” he asked.
“Yes. But I want to know what happened with Jamie.”
“I said it doesn’t matter,” he said, his brows furrowing.
“Oliver, tell me—”
His hands stopped moving against me. “He’s taken two days from us, and now you want to give him more of our time? Why are you so interested in what’s been going on with him? You got a crush on him, too?”
I shook my head, taken aback by his completely absurd question. “Of course not. I just… Forget it. You’re right.”
