Page 80 of Just Wait

Do we have enough time before we need to be clear for the show tomorrow night?

Yeah, I’m sure we do.

I’ll still pass if Lumen is going to skip it. I don’t want her to have to be the only sober one.

“Did you know Ten grew up around here?” Parish asks, laughing. “I didn’t, but apparently, we’re headed back to the hotel to party with ten of his closest friends.”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “You never tell us anything about you.”

“A couple are close friends. The others are people they brought with them.” Tennyson chuckles, shaking out the pills. There are two colors—orange and teal. “But I wanna be somewhere comfortable when these hit. So, pick your poison, and let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Malcolm reaches around Lumen, grabbing one of the bottles of water. “You good with that, Lulu?”

She licks her lips and nods. “Yeah. I’ve only tried it twice, though.”

“You stick with one until you’re good and sure you’re ready for another,” Tennyson says, his face deathly serious.

“Damn,” I mutter, holding out my hand. “I wish we had tomorrow off.”

Parish and Mal echo their agreement.

Where the hell is Kincaid?

I’m ready to get the hell out of here.

“Did you two find a lady friend for tonight?” Lumen asks, glancing between Parish and Tennyson.

Parish chuckles darkly while Ten glances at a group of people I don’t recognize.

“Not yet.” Tennyson finally looks back at Lumen, saying, “But I’m hoping luck will be on our side.”

Sometimes I feel bad for the people who stay at the same hotels we do. I’ve always wondered if the label blocks off the floor under us, or maybe the hotel does it for them to avoid noise complaints. Our shows bring in a ton of revenue for whatever city we’re playing in, but it’s still shitty for people who just want a night of sleep while they’re on vacation.

Techno plays through Bluetooth speakers that Ten or Parish brought with them.

Tennyson had this party planned well in advance. It’s not just his friends. At least another handful of people followed us over from the bar.

Lumen dances with Malcolm about ten feet away. Mal’s hands slide down her back, cupping her ass as they move together.

I’m not jealous.

At least, not exactly.

I think I feel left out.

Which is dumb.

If I went over there, I bet they would let me join them.

I’ve become one with the couch cushion. I’m a puddle of everything feels incredible and getting up seems like a fuckton of work.

Kincaid leans against the wall near the balcony, watching Lumen and Mal just as intently as I’ve been. I don’t have telepathy, but it seems like he’s experiencing the same types of feelings that I am.

One of the women who knows Tennyson comes over, sitting directly next to me on the couch.

She rests her head against my shoulder and runs her hand down my arm. “Whoa, your skin is crazy soft.”

My head rolls around the couch cushion, and I snort. “That’s the material of my shirt.”