The creaking of a door and the sound of liquid trickling somewhere seeped into his consciousness as Dev struggled to hold on to the last ragged edges of sleep.

Without thinking, he reached for the woman he expected to be there. The woman that had haunted his dreams once he finally did fall into a fitful sleep. A sleep riddled with a cruel tangle of memories and fantasies. But when he joined the land of the living, he was alone.

A fact that his rock hard shaft complained about viciously. It refused to calm down, especially when an image of her face with those wide, crystal blue eyes flashed in his mind.

This was so wrong.

In all the years that Rory and he were best friends, little Bug had stayed in the background. Always around, but never in the forefront of his thoughts. Rory was the brother Dev never had, and by extension, Bug was Dev's sister, sort of.

Until last night.

At his third shot of Jack, with the closeness of her thigh next to his, and the way her tits looked in that t-shirt, the walls he’d erected in his head regarding Cheri had crumbled and something entirely new had erected. She’d wandered through the rubble of the “like a sister” zone into a whole other category.

Fuckable.

Shit.

"Why was it never me, Dev?"

The question haunted him now in all the ways it shouldn't. Even now, his cock twitched at the thought. Already jacked by a night racked with fevered dreams of her, it demanded release.

There wasn’t much privacy on the bus and Dev wasn’t a sexual exhibitionist, even if he did strut on the stage like he was. But he couldn't take it. One thought of Cheri standing in the alley looking fierce and sexy with her hands balled at her side like she would do damage if that girl didn't move away from him set him off. If he didn’t come, he was going to be walking around with a record case of blue-balls.

His hands pushed past the waistband of his sleep pants and he grabbed his cock. Images of her lithe body under him, her tits firm with pink nipples hardened by need filled his brain. In his head he parted her thighs as he lowered his head between them, breathing in the scent of her desire. He lapped her petal-soft sweetness, hungry and wanting more. She moaned under him and whimpered for him to slide his cock deep. He rose and pressed forward, taking her as her tight, soft flesh closed around him and her hips moved, urging him to take more of her.

His balls drew up and a rush of fire ran up his aching cock. It was fast. It was dirty. And it was over. He shuddered as he came in his hand, hard. He smashed a pillow against his face to muffle his groans, but even so, someone rapped on the section over his head while his heart was still pounding.

"You okay, buddy?" said Rory. "You sound like you’re hurting in there."

Fucking Rory.

The guilt hit him almost as hard as his climax. The last thing he needed was to be reminded of his best friend, who was the brother of the girl he just jacked off to.

"I'm fine," rasped Dev.

"Drank a little too much last night?"

"Yeah."

"Want some aspirin?"

"Jesus Christ, no. Just let me wake up," snapped Dev irritably.

"Okay, you don't have to take my head off."

It wouldn’t be the first time he and Rory had jawed off to each other, and his friend wouldn’t likely even think of it again, but Dev felt like shit. Here Rory was offering to get him aspirin when, if he’d known what had just happened, he likely would’ve busted him in the chops.

Already this shit with Cheri was causing problems and nothing had even happened between them.

Yet.

He needed to get that thought out of his head. Their schedule was frustratingly tight, with a venue every six to eight hours away from the next, so Bill declared they didn't need hotel rooms. And right now, Dev would have paid any money for the privacy a hotel room would give him. That, and a shower.

He desperately needed a shower.

When this tour was over, the band and their manager were going to have a serious sit-down in which Dev would explain to him who was in charge.

He felt around for the wipes that should have been at the head of his bed. As he groped, he wondered if someone took them, but he finally found them wedged between the slice of memory foam that served as the piss-poor mattress and the wall of the bunk.

As he cleaned his sticky mess from his hand and stomach, he stewed internally. This whole situation was ridiculous, both the sleeping arrangements and his attraction to Cheri.

What was his problem? They were just three days in, and already he was going off the rails. The failure of Providence still weighed heavily on all their minds, and maybe that was a factor. The last thing the band wanted was to gain a reputation as box office poison since this was the first time they were working with a promoter. If they didn't fill the venues or close to it, no other promoter would look at them again.

Sub-Zero would die an almost-was rock band’s death, a sad symbol of what could have been.

When they’d had a great show last night, he’d felt a momentary relief from the pressure and a building excitement. He’d wanted someone who knew him and who cared to share it with, and last night, that was Cheri.

Sensibly, very sensibly, he had walked away.

Now all he had to do was not look back.

The air seal of the bus door hissed and the telltale sound of a woman's heels clanged on the metal stairs.

"Oh, my, my," said Gina Saldano. Their PR maestro had a voice like silk and steel rolled into one. "It smells like a honky tonk at three AM in here. Wake up, gentlemen. We have DJ calls to make."

"Screw you, Saldano," said a voice through the curtain that sounded like a raspy Quinn.

Dev had recalled seeing him the night before and his buddy had hit the tequila hard. He was definitely going to be hurting this morning.

"Come on, boys," said another female voice that instantly had Dev's cock stiffening back to half-mast. "I have coffee for all of you, so quit your bitching. I told you, Gina, they’re all grumpy first thing, whether or not they pour a quart of liquor down their throats. They can't function without the magical brown elixir."

Shit. Cheri.

"You're a goddess," said Mac. "Dark roast for me."

"I know what you like, Mac," said Cheri smoothly. "And I guess the great Dev Lachlan is still in bed?"

"Coffee," he croaked, poking just his arm out of the curtain hoping to deflect his mind from his thoughts and deflect Cheri from discovering his current condition.

That was it. The next groupie who threw it at him, he'd follow through. He couldn't spend another morning jacking off in his bunk like a teenager.

He wiggled his hand, hoping she would just hand him the coffee and he could avoid Cheri's ritual hazing for his drunken antics last night. He was very aware of her gaze last night when he was flirting with those girls on the dance floor. He’d even shot a guilty glance over his shoulder as he headed to the door with the girl he chose, only to see Cheri chug back another shot. He never expected her to follow them out to the alley.

And then there she stood at the entrance of the sliver of space between buildings--fury and sex combined that promised one hell of a ride.

A ride that required a ticket you can’t afford.

To his everlasting relief, she stuck the warm coffee cup in his hand, dragging him back to the present.

"There you go, light and sweet," she said. Her husky tone made Dev want to do three things. Put his coffee down, pull her on top of him, and then smack himself for being so stupid.

"Thanks, Bug," he said.

He shouldn't have used her nickname. It was a poorly thought out attempt to remind them both of their relationship. Get them back on solid ground. But all he’d managed to do was piss her off.

He heard her gasp and, a second later, the curtain slid open on its silvery hooks, sounding like a swarm of metal bees. She glared down at him until she caught sight of the erection tenting his sheets. Her blue eyes, glinting in the bright fluorescent lights of the bus, widened just a bit.

"Hey!" he protested, but it was too late. Her keen gaze had already taken in the used wipes on the bed.

Her eyes burned holes through him. "Cheri," she hissed. "My fucking name is Cheri." Then she snapped the curtain shut again.

Could he be botching this all any worse? Last night, he’d hurt her feelings, and now, he’d disrespected her by not calling her the name she’d solemnly asked him to call her.

Guilt weighed heavily on his gut and he swallowed back half the coffee in hopes of warming the ice in his belly.

Screw this.

He took out his phone, searched for the nearest hotel and called for a reservation. He was going to get a shower, a good breakfast, and then maybe, just maybe, the day would right itself.

If only he could get Little Cheri Galveston and her ridiculous proposal out of his head…

* * *

So much for his much needed “me time”.

Two hours later and, one by one, each of his band-mates had tracked him down and availed themselves of his upscale hotel room. Room service had stopped taking their mid-day breakfast calls one by one, and wound up sending up a buffet of everything. Eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes, hash browns, mixed fruit and grits, though none of the northern-bred boys could make heads or tails of the grits.

"They have no taste," said Rory with a frown.

"I’m told by room service," said Dev who was into second helpings, "that you’re supposed to put lots of butter and salt on them."

Rory shrugged. "Seems likes a waste of whatever it is."

"Corn," offered Mac, heaping a bunch of the white paste into a bowl. "Boiled, ground corn kernels. But this shit isn't a quarter good as it could be. No doubt they made it out of a box."

"How do you know so much about it?"

"Not all Irish came to America by way of New England or New York. My grandmother was raised in Georgia, from the first wave of Irish that came over way before the potato famine. I had a great, great, great grandfather who fought for General Lee in the Civil War."

"A Southern man," said Rory approvingly. "Maybe we can use that in our introductions."

"Better run that through the Iron Maiden," said Connor.

"The Iron Maiden?" said Dev.

"Saldano," replied Connor. "She's got us all on scripts now for when we speak in public."

This was the first Dev heard of it.

"Except you. She didn't give you any," said Quinn picking up on Dev's quizzical expression, "because, quote 'Dev has the good sense not to make an ass of himself' unquote.” The keyboardist put on an exaggerated version of the Brooklyn accent that seeped into Gina's speech from time to time.

Connor picked up the hotel phone.

"What are you doing?" said Dev.

"Ordering the hair of the dog," said Connor.

"Not on my tab," said Dev irritably. “I already paid for breakfast.”

"Isn’t this from band funds?"

Dev shook his head. "Nope. I wanted a little space and a place to sit and think, and clearly, Bill wasn’t about to approve it, so I paid for it myself."

"That’s nuts,” Mac said. “This should come out of the band's expenses."

"I'm tired of arguing with him about every nickel and dime. And I needed a nice long shower."

Rory pulled out his wallet. "Sorry, man. Let me kick in some."

"Yeah," said Mac taking out his. Quinn and Connor followed suit.

Dev held out his hand, instantly sorry for being such a dick. "I won't take your money, so forget it."

But the cash flew on the table.

"Listen," said Rory. "Keep the room 'til after the show. We'll come back here and do some decent partying while the roadies break the equipment down."

"Yeah," chorused the others.

Dev's phone rang and the screen flashed Bill’s name. He put the phone on speaker.

"Where the hell are you?" yelled a panicked Bill.

"Resting," said Dev.

"Relaxing," replied Rory.

"Congregating," added Connor.

"Oh, thank god,” Bill muttered, blowing out a sigh. "You're all together. I thought I was going to have to send out a search party."

"What do you want, Bill?"

"Sound check at five. You got awhile, but don’t be late."

"Yeah, yeah," said Dev and he clicked off the call, then turned his phone off. With wicked smiles, the rest of the band followed suit.

"So you don't like him either," said Mac.

Dev shrugged. He didn't want to get into a discussion about Bill right now. Connor flipped through a laminated hotel pamphlet and grinned.

"Gentlemen, this fine establishment has masseuses on call."

"Hell, yes," said Quinn enthusiastically. "Bring on the masseuses."

By the time they got to the venue, they were all clean and loose from their massages. Mac had even called the barber and they all got shaves and haircuts.

They made it back ten minutes late for sound check. The venue was an opera-style theater in the heart of Alexandria that sat maybe fifteen hundred people. Still, this gig was as important as the others. They had to keep the good momentum going if they wanted to outrun that rough first night. Before he could think too much about it, Bill ran at them frantically.

"You’re late,” he snapped. He was clearly frustrated and even less diplomatic than usual. "You should have taken at least one guy from security with you. Don't you know there are a dozen crazies that would do anything to get a piece of you?"

"Relax, Bill," said Dev dismissively. "We’re here now, in one piece and ready to work."

"Where did you go?"

"None of your fucking business," said Rory pushing past him.

It was Bill's business to some extent, but Dev wasn't going to get into the middle of it with Rory and the manager. Besides, a flash of dark hair caught Dev's attention as they walked onto the theater stage.

Below him in the orchestra pit was Cheri, leaning over the soundboards with Cobb behind her. A little too close behind her, in fact, and Dev’s gut clenched. The sound man said something and Cheri laughed. Under the glare of the stage lights that spilled into the orchestra pit, he noticed the red streaks in her hair and the way her firm ass pushed out as she leaned in.

Cheri was dead wrong in her assessment that she didn't know how to attract a man. And it seemed like Cobb was zeroing in on her.

Cheri swatted Cobb's hand away playfully and jogged away. Dev couldn't help but to watch her as she bounded up the stairs at the far end of the stage on her way to her next task. Her energy was electric. Her body was totally sick. Now that he’d seen her, truly seen her, it was like he could stuff that genie back into the bottle.

How had he been so blind?

"Lachlan!" called Connor. "Sound check!"

"Yeah, yeah," grumbled Dev. He pushed back to the microphone thinking about Cobb's hand on Cheri and liking it less and less. Not because he was jealous. He wasn’t. The sound man just wasn’t good enough for Cheri, and they sure as shit didn’t need any drama on this tour.

He made a mental note to find her after the show and have a talk with her.

The curtain went up as usual, but because Dev was still distracted thinking about Cobb and Cheri, he missed the first cue. Connor gave him a warning glare and he did his best to focus. He got all the way through the first hour without mishap, but his heart wasn’t in it. At the drum solo, Connor followed him off the stage while Dev grabbed a bottle of water. He looked for Cheri but didn't see her.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" asked Connor.

"What are you talking about?"

"You're bringing your ‘B’ game to the field when we need your ‘A’ game. You act like you’re sleepwalking. Get your head out of your ass."

Shit. He hadn’t realized it was so bad that it showed on stage.

"Sorry, man," he said. "Head’s out of my ass now."

Connor smiled. It wasn't like him to get angry, and he never could stay mad long.

"No problem, buddy."

"And if my head is up my ass again, I expect you'll tell me about it."

"Damn straight I will."

He slapped Connor's shoulder good-naturedly.

"Good. Now let's go play some music and finish strong.”

By the time Dev bid the audience good night, after two encores, the crowd was still screaming. As he made his way backstage, he spotted Cheri and strode over to the corner where she was checking off items on a tablet.

"Hey," he said.

"I’m busy," she replied icily.

"Sorry about that. But I wanted to talk to you."

"About what, Lachlan? Make it quick.” She leveled him with a glare. “We've a lot to get done in a short amount of time."

He hadn’t planned it, but the words came tumbling out.

"I’ve been thinking about last night."