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Ashley made the decision to stop caring. It was that easy. All she’d ever needed, it seemed, was bigger fish to fry. And Molly was a whale shark on the hook. Ashley couldn’t let her slip off. She couldn’t afford to throw her back. There wouldn’t be another Molly. Ashley was sure of that.

Downstairs, a door closed. Upstairs, it didn’t matter.

The playful hesitation from before was gone, replaced by a quiet heat that made Ashley’s knees feel suddenly unreliable. She reached out instinctively, her hands gripping the fabric of Molly’s shirt, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.

Molly let out a soft sound against Ashley’s lips and shifted her weight, guiding Ashley backwards. They tumbled onto the neatly tucked covers together, a sudden tangle of limbs and breathless laughter that broke the rhythm but heightened everything else.

Ashley ended up flat on her back, looking up as Molly hovered over her.

‘Still okay?’ Molly whispered, her thumb brushing across Ashley’s lower lip. It was sweet because it wasn’t the first time for them. Yet Molly was treating her like it was. The care was unmissable.

‘Perfect,’ Ashley breathed.

Molly smiled and leaned down, her lips leaving Ashley’s mouth to trace a slow, agonisingly deliberate path down her jawline to the sensitive skin of her neck. Ashley gasped, her fingers tangling into Molly’s hair, her hips lifting slightly. Every place Molly touched felt amplified, burning away the lingering chill of the house downstairs.

‘You’re so beautiful,’ Molly murmured, the sincerity in her voice hitting deeper than any physical touch.

Ashley didn’t answer with words. She pulled Molly down tighter into her. The weight of Molly’s body pressing on hers was electric. Ashley arched into the pressure, her hands sliding down Molly’s back. Last time, she’d been the one to lead in bed. It was just as good like this. Maybe better.

The world narrowed to the sound of their combined breathing, the rustle of sheets, and the friction of skin against skin. When Molly’s hand slipped lower, finding the button of Ashley’s jeans, Ashley let her eyes close, completely giving in to the rhythm they were building together—one that belonged entirely to them, far above the rest of the world.

Eighteen

Now

Molly stood in the narrow corridor, clutching the strap of her oversized duffle bag. She had expected a vehicle of rock-and-roll debauchery, but instead, the bus looked like a Scandinavian kitchen on wheels.

‘Everyone, this is Molly,’ Ashley announced to the room.

Ashley was leaning against the kitchenette counter, looking effortlessly cool in an oversized vintage band tee and faded denim. But Molly could see the slight tension in her jaw, the way her fingers kept tapping a restless rhythm against her thigh. She was just as nervous as Molly was.

Sitting around the horseshoe-shaped leather booth at the back of the bus were three people who looked like they had been pulled straight from an indie-rock catalogue. They all stopped talking the moment Molly stepped aboard, their eyes locking onto her with a mixture of curiosity and scepticism.

‘Molly, this is my touring band,’ Ashley continued, gesturing to them. ‘Toby on drums, Jax on bass, and Elena on keys.’

‘Hi,’ Molly said, offering a small, incredibly awkward wave. ‘Nice to meet you all. Sorry if I’m... crashing the party.’

‘No worries at all, mate,’ Toby, the drummer, said smoothly. He had a thick mane of curls and a surprisingly warm smile. ‘We’ve seen the red-carpet footage. Absolute legendary dive.’

Molly felt a blush creep up her neck, but before she could reply, Jax—shaved head and a sharp glare—snorted. ‘Just don’t trip over the guitar cables backstage, yeah? Some of that gear costs more than my flat.’

‘Jax, mind your manners,’ Ashley warned, her voice sounding more protective than Molly would have expected. ‘Molly’s a guest.’

Jax shrugged, turning back to their phone, though the icy edge in the room melted just a fraction.

‘Why don’t you just piss all over the bus next time? It’s more direct,’ Elena—heavy eyeliner and a natural sneer—said dryly, nudging Jax.

Jax pretended to ignore it.

‘Come on,’ Ashley said, looking back at Molly. ‘Let me show you where you’re sleeping before we hit the motorway.’

Molly followed Ashley down the narrow hallway toward the bunk area. ‘The driver’s called Dave, by the way, but don’t expect to see him much,’ she said over her shoulder. ‘He keeps to himself unless he’s barking at you to keep to his schedule.’ The space was tight, forcing them to brush shoulders as they moved. Every time Ashley’s arm grazed hers, Molly felt a jolt of hyper-awareness.

Ashley stopped in front of a built-in wooden berth lined with heavy black privacy curtains. ‘This one’s yours. It’s got ventilation, a little reading light, and a plug for your phone. I made sure you got the double-width bunk so you wouldn’t feel totally claustrophobic.’

Molly peeked inside the cosy, cave-like space. ‘It’s actually really nice. Thank you.’ She hesitated, shifting her weight. ‘And... thanks for defending me back there. I know having a fake girlfriend tag along on your tour isn’t exactly ideal.’

Ashley leaned her back against the opposite wall of the corridor, looking down at Molly with a wry smile. ‘Are you kidding? After everything that happened with Reva, the band was terrified I was going to bring another unpredictable nightmare on the road. An adorably clumsy actress is a massive upgrade. Trust me.’