During lunch, I was subdued. So was Gabe. Billy didn’t do well with the silence, or our petulant attitudes.
“You two have a fight or something?” he asked, reaching for Daisy’s fries.
Contrary to Jett’s promise, the diner did not have the best chili steak fries ever. Chord and Turner had taken one bite of the pale brown concoction and hightailed it back to the bus, clutching their stomachs. Jett, on the other hand, smiled, rubbed his hands together and said, “More for me.”
Now I watched as Jett devoured his second helping of chili fries. My mouth screwed up in a grimace.
Fingers snapped in front of my face. “Little bird.”
I jerked my gaze to Billy. “I’m sorry, what?”
“You two have a fight?” he asked again.
Beside me, Gabe stiffened, his hamburger untouched. Gabe always had an obscene appetite. I’d seen him put down six hotdogs in under five minutes. I’d driven my ex-boyfriend to a hunger strike.
I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth, scrambling for an answer, an excuse. Daisy nudged Billy. “That’s none of our business,” she said.
Billy sneered. “Course it’s my business. We’re talking about my kid here and the man who’s supposed to be making her happy. But she doesn’t look too happy now, does she, Jett?”
Mouth full of fries, Jett answered, “Looks sad, man. Addy looks sad.” At that, Billy cracked his knuckles. Gabe went white as a sheet. Thanks, Uncle Jett.
I cleared my throat. “Daisy’s right, it’s none of your business.” My hand covered Gabe’s white-knuckled fist on the table, a demonstration of our solidarity. If we weren’t good on the inside, we’d at least present a united front on the outside.
Billy’s face grew mulish. He was winding up, getting ready to unleash an epic tantrum. Two-year-olds had nothing on him.
“Billy,” Daisy said, her voice the epitome of calm, loving. “Remember how we were talking about boundaries?”
“She’s my kid.” This said through his teeth.
“I know, honey. But some things you have to let her work out on her own. You can’t fix everything.”
“Fine.” Billy stood, taking Daisy with him. As he left, he dropped a black Amex card on Gabe’s plate. “You get a hotel room tonight, on me. Work your shit out before our family dinner. I don’t want anything going wrong then. It’s going to be a real classy night.”
Daisy gathered up her purse and coat, saying, “He’s been a real pill since he quit smoking. It’s not you.” She patted my shoulder as she left.
I slumped back, letting my head rest on the booth. There were brown and yellow water stains on the ceiling.
“You should tell him you’re back together with Warren.”
I jerked upright and stared at Jett. My mouth dropped open. “How do you know that?”
Jett smiled, cheeks full of chili fries and God knows what else. “Everybody knows except your old man. That sod is blind when it comes to you. Thinks you’re an angel. But we both know that ain’t true. You were born to raise hell just like your pop.”
I felt my face drain of color. “Everybody knows?”
“Course they do,” Jett said. “You and Warren could start a fire with the looks you throw each other’s way. Nobody has said anything because we know Billy will go off the rails.” Jett wiped his mouth. He grunted in satisfaction, stood and yanked a couple hundred-dollar bills from his pocket, dropping them to the center of the table. “Take it from me, kid, tell the old man. The longer you wait, the worse it’s going to be.” Jett replaced his ball cap—he always removed it when we ate—and left, signing autographs on his way out the door.
Gabe pushed his plate away and fingered the black Amex card. “We are not getting a hotel room tonight.”
Outside, the tour buses honked. No doubt Billy was anxious to get back on the road. My eyes stung. It hurt to look at him, to see the disappointment and anger in his expression. “I get it, Gabe. You can’t stand to be around me. Soon as we get to Sacramento, you can book a flight home. I’ll make up some excuse to Billy.”
Gabe exhaled. “Think I haven’t checked flights already? Everything is sold out. The only thing left is the Greyhound, and I’m not riding some shitty bus for sixteen hours, sitting next to some sweaty cheapskate.” That wasn’t very fair. The bus was a very economical form of transportation, and Gabe was being rather discriminatory. I doubted he’d appreciate my thoughts on the matter. I kept my lips zipped tight. “Like it or not, we’re stuck with each other for the next few days. I’ll get my own room tonight and I don’t need your dad to pay for it.” That said, Gabe scooted from the booth, leaving the Amex card and a whole bunch of uneaten food on the table.
I placed my hands around my coffee cup, flexing my fingers. I didn’t want to get back on the bus. For obvious reasons. My phone chirped with an incoming text. It was Warren. He’d sent one word: Tonight.
I shivered and at the same time felt warmth pool in my belly. I wanted Warren. I wanted him more than anything: food, water, air. Was this what addiction felt like? I was willing to do anything for him. Lie to my father. Burn down my friendship with Gabe. It didn’t matter who got in my way, or what I had to do. A warning light in my head blinked: danger, danger, danger. But I was past the point of reason. Warren Price was my own personal drug.
Kelly returned from the bathroom. Hands still damp, he wiped them on his jeans. “What’d I miss? Where did everyone go?”
“Nothing,” I lied with a grimace. I closed my eyes, searching for a calm, happy place. All I saw was Warren.
When we pulled near the arena, the streets were lined with fans. Barely dressed women held up glittery signs declaring their love for their favorite band member. Once through the gates, Billy and the band deboarded for sound check. Gabe also checked out, leaving me behind with Kelly.
I turned to my murse. “Your services won’t be needed tonight.”
The jolly blond giant studied me. “Going to see that husband of yours, are you?”
I glanced around, making sure we were alone. “Yes.”
“All right, I’ll make myself scarce after the concert. But you stay on the Wild Minds bus or with Warren and his security team. Don’t get me fired.” He pointed at me.
I gave him a beatific smile to reassure him. “No worries.”
Kelly’s face grew more serious, brows drawn together. He pinned me with his eyes. “All this sneaking around. All this lying. Are you sure you know what you’re doing, lass?”
My heart beat double time. “No,” I said. “I actually haven’t got a clue.” What I did know was I was hours away from seeing Warren. And the time couldn’t go fast enough. Yeah, I was definitely going down in flames. It’d never felt so good.
Backstage was the same. Busy people. Equipment being pulled from here to there. The stadium was sold out, nineteen thousand rabid fans. Wild Minds had just finished their first set and Wanks and Janks were taking the stage. As Wild Minds exited to my side, I drank in my secret husband.
Warren wore black boots, faded jeans, his wallet chain and a gray T-shirt. He whipped the T-shirt off, wiping down sweat. Screams erupted from the auditorium as Wanks and Janks lit into their first number-one single, Blue Dream, an autobiographical song penned by Billy, about a kid with working-class parents making it big.
Seeing me, a satisfied gleam entered Warren’s eyes. He advanced. I backed up, cornering myself in the shadows between two large speakers.
“War,” I practically purred. Heat pooled in my belly and then between my legs. It was like Warren had a remote control to my nether regions—all he had to do was push play.
“Fuck, baby, been thinking about you all day,” he said, crowding me against a curtained wall.
“Not as much as I’ve been thinking about you.” My body buzzed.
“You tell Billy ’bout us?” Warren asked. He palmed a breast. I felt the heat of his hand through my thin T-shirt and bra. I sucked in a breath, my nipple peaking under his thumb.
“No.” I was breathless, weightless. He crossed his massive, tattooed arms and gave me a dour look. I felt the loss of him like a slap to the face. “Don’t be mad,” I said. “Please, don’t be mad.”
A long-suffering sigh. “What’s going on, Addy?”
I’m afraid he won’t love me anymore, was what I wanted to say. Instead, I said, “Billy’s been in a piss-poor mood all day, something about quitting smoking.”
“This sneaking around, it’s not what I’m about anymore, babe.”
He was never about it. But I didn’t correct him. “I know,” I agreed, hoping it would make Warren more agreeable, i.e. return palm to breast.
Blue Dream came to an end. Another song started, Broken Moment. Jett sang this one, about losing a girl to another guy. A grunt from Warren, but not of disapproval, rather, resigned acceptance.
“You’re not mad?”
“Oh, I’m mad. But I’m too hard to care.” To demonstrate, Warren adjusted himself in his jeans. I jumped him, wrapping my legs around his waist, then I kissed him good and long. “I love you, Addy,” he said against my lips.
My chest flooded with gooey feelings as I slid down his big body. “And I love how reasonable you’re being.”
Warren slowly grinned. “I think such maturity deserves a reward, don’t you?”
“What were you thinking?”
“I’ve had this image in my head all day of you on your knees.”
“Oh.” I licked my bottom lip. Why did that make me so hot?
“Yeah. Maybe even calling me ‘sir’ or ‘master.’”
I screwed up my nose.
War chuckled, low and husky. “Or maybe not.”
“You can have the blowjob, but not the subservience.”
“Fuck, baby, I’ll take it.” His voice dropped an octave.
I brushed a thumb over one flat, brown nipple then began kissing my way down his chest. He tasted like salt and sweat. I licked his side, my tongue tracing a tattoo of a red fox with the words Breathe Out so I can Breathe You In curved around its bushy tail. Under my mouth, I felt Warren suck in a breath, abdomen tightening. I curled my tongue around his belly button, continuing my descent down his happy trail. His hard-on bulged under his zipper.
“Addy.” My name on Warren’s lips sounded like a prayer, an absolution.
I glanced up. His eyes were dark blue twin abysses. He moved my hair over my shoulder. More tattoos disappeared into the waistband of his jeans—a yellow submarine, a brick wall, and a dream catcher—all homages to his favorite bands. I loved his ink, loved it meant something to him.
With a flick of my fingers, I released the button on his fly, and then pulled down the zipper. He wasn’t wearing underwear. He shifted, helping me pull down the jeans just below his hips. His cock sprang free. And it was a thing of beauty, long and thick, ridged with veins. I fisted the base and then stroked it. Another sharp intake of breath from Warren. I pumped up and down a couple times.
“You’re a bad girl, Addy. Aren’t you? My bad girl,” he groaned.
I lifted a shoulder, a smile teasing my lips. I flicked my tongue out, licking the head of his cock, tasting pre-cum.
“You’re such a tease.” A hand tangled in my hair. “You’ll pay for this later.”
Using the tip of my tongue, I traced the vein in his shaft. The hand in my hair tightened. Warren was at the edge. I gave him what he wanted. I took his entire cock in my mouth, tipping him over. I let my jaw go slack, drawing him deep. It was no small feat—Warren was huge. I’d only had two partners, but I knew Warren was sizable from internet research. No judgment, please.
Above, Warren whimpered, whispering unintelligible words of praise. Warren was at my mercy. Pleasing him pleased me. His hips thrust, urging his cock deeper. I answered in kind, sucking hard. He shouted. His hands fisted my hair, stilling me, keeping me in place while he came. I drank him up. Wiping the corner of my mouth, I drew up, a smug smile on my lips. I stood, feeling energized, feeling like I could run a couple laps. Warren, on the other hand, looked dazed, sleep-deprived, befuddled.
He buttoned his pants then grabbed me. He held me, a slight tremor still working its way through his body.
“That was…” Warren trailed off, nose in my hair.
“Yeah,” I said, giving him a wholehearted smile.
A towel snapped, whipping Warren in the neck. “Ow.” He winced, turning.
Ash stood there, frowning, towel dangling from his hand. “Let’s go, asshole. Not everybody has a hole to stick their dick in between sets.”
“Shut your face, don’t talk about Addy that way.” Still scowling, Ash stalked away. Warren faced me. “Ignore him, he’s pissed because Lily changed her number.”
“Yeah, she texted me this morning with her new digits.” Her parents had gotten in touch and she was able to give them her new number.
“Don’t let Ash know that. He was ready to hop a plane and hunt her down.” Warren leaned his forehead against mine. “I gotta go.” He slipped a piece of plastic from his pocket and into mine. “We’re staying at the Hyatt tonight. The band’s got a whole floor. I’ll see you there.”
“K,” I muttered. I watched Warren as he caught up with Ash. I was right back where I’d started three years ago. But this time things would be different. I’d tell Warren about the baby tonight. Then Warren would stand by my side when I told Billy about us. I was a shitty daughter. A bad friend. But I could be a good wife.