Liz curls up next to me, tucking her arms around me and throwing her legs over my lap. We’re in the back row of the van, on the way to Atlanta, to play our first big music festival. There’s a tense excitement in the air, and I’m so glad I invited her. She calms me, gives me focus, and keeps me from overanalyzing all the shit I have going on in my head that I don’t need to think about right now. All I can do is take it one day at a time, and here we are.

We absolutely cannot sign a contract with him. We gave Tim a chance to prove that he cares about the band as much as we do, and he didn’t show up for either rehearsal we had for this festival set. After this weekend, we’ll get everything squared away. We have a few days before we go on tour with Walk on Mars. We should have kicked him out before we hit the road today, but how the hell were we going to find another bass player in such a short time?

Liz pulls her hair away from her neck, giving me a view of her soft, smooth collarbone and full breasts practically bursting out of her skimpy sundress. My dick presses against my jeans. Everything about her gets me hard. I want to reach under her skirt and play with her pussy while the guys goof off. They’ll never know. Even if they do, they don’t give a fuck. They know how I feel about Liz. Not only is she my muse, she’s the person keeping me going as we navigate these exciting, but stressful times.

It makes me crazy knowing that she wears loose, flowy dresses for me. My shy, proper, straight-laced doctor knows that I want access to her at all times. She loves fulfilling every fantasy. She loves that there’s no weirdness. It’s all respect and open minds and mind-blowing orgasms.

I slide my fingers up the inside of her thigh, teasing her by rubbing through her panties. She arches into me, which spurs me on.

“You’ve got to be quiet, Miss Honey,” I whisper. “Unless you want the guys to hear you.”

Her forehead rubs against my chest, her way of giving me permission without speaking. I slip a finger inside her, turned on at how wet she is already. I work her with one finger before adding a second, excited at her involuntary reaction to squeeze me tightly. I love how she tries to contain herself. It must be killing her, because she’s normally really loud.

When my thumb starts to rub on the outside of her underwear, her pussy tightens around my fingers. She knows she’ll be coming soon. My cock swells under her legs. She writhes against my fingers, silently asking for more. I’m moving fast now, tapping her G-spot while rubbing fast circles with my thumb. I know she’s gonna explode. I can’t wait to feel her all over my hand.

I’m working furiously, not giving a fuck that it’s obvious to anyone who looks back here what I’m doing. But I want Liz to come hard. She needs it. She needs to know that this is the sexy, part of life. It’s normal to want each other. It’s normal to fuck. Maybe not in a van with six other guys, but hey, fantasy is fantasy.

Her teeth dig into my shoulder, and I know she’s coming. She’s riding my hand, grinding and squeezing. It’s so fucking hot. I want her mouth on my cock so fucking badly, but that’s out of the question. Later, I’ll make sure we’re alone somewhere.

If finger-fucking her here, in the van, where we’re slightly concealed, gets me this hard, I can only imagine what it’ll be like when I’m doing this to her as we stand in the crowd, watching a concert.

Thankfully, our set isn’t until tomorrow, so we have all day to relax and get our bearings in Atlanta today.

“We should get back to the van before the guys tonight so we can take this seat again.”

“When are we going to the hotel?” Liz asks, words coming out as pants between breaths.

“We don’t have a hotel. We sleep in the van at festivals.”

Liz practically dries up on the spot; her pussy feels like my mouth after smoking weed. Shit.

“You sleep in the van?”

“Yeah. Hotels are expensive. We don’t really have that budget yet.”

“Okaaaay,” she says. “But you asked me to come this weekend. Don’t you think you should have said something?”

Fuck me. Yes, I should’ve.

“Yeah—I’m—Jesus, Liz. I’m sorry. I’ve been running around, trying to get everything ready for this, and I honestly didn’t even think about it.”

I expect her wrath. Hell, I deserve her wrath. The fact that it didn’t even cross my mind to suggest to Liz that she might want to get a hotel makes me feel like a complete asshole. And I wasn’t even trying to be. I really did forget.

“It’s okay.” She curls her fingers over my shoulders. “I know you’ve been really stressed.”

“I really am sorry, baby. Fuck! I’m such an idiot.”

She places a hand on my cheek and smiles. “I’m not mad at you, Austin. I’m proud of everything you’ve done to get here. This moment right here.” She looks into my eyes. “You’ve worked your ass off. I haven’t known you long, but I can see that.”

There’s nothing better she could have said in that moment. Nothing.

“Thank you, babe. That means the world to me.” I squeeze her into my side and place my lips on the top of her head, breathing in the botanical scent of her hair and the positivity she emits.

How many girls would have railed me? Absolutely railed me for not telling her that we didn’t have a hotel. Liz is used to having everything planned out, yet she can still put her expectations aside and see the situation from my point of view. The point of view of a guy doing everything I possibly can to make this band a success. She can forgive my oversight. I’ve never met a kinder woman.

When I release her, she digs into her purse and retrieves her phone.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Checking out hotels.” Her fingers dance across her screen. “Oooh, the Marriott has a room available.”

“I bet that costs a mint tonight. They up the prices for festivals.”

“It’s no big deal,” she says absently.

“It’s just a place to sleep and put your stuff.”

Liz looks up from her phone. “And shower.” She winks.

While I appreciate her dirty mind, I don’t think she’s getting my point. “Well, a motel on the outskirts of the city serves the same purpose. And it’s probably one third the price.”

“I’m sure it is, but I’d rather stay at the Marriott.”

“Why? What does it matter? You’re not even gonna be there for most of the time.”

“Because I like to be comfortable and close. And honestly—because I can.”

My mouth had been open, poised to strike, but I can’t do it. Instead, I shake my head and smile. “Exactly.”

“I don’t have to defend myself to you.”

“Never said you did.”

“I can tell by your look.”

“What can you tell by my look?”

“That you think I’m a spoiled, wasteful, rich bitch.” She glances out the window, avoiding my eyes.

As much as I hate to admit it, the thought passed through my head. And it pisses me off that it was there, no matter how fleeting. I’m an asshole for putting that stereotype on Liz, when I know she’s so much more than that.

“I don’t feel that way about you at all, Liz. I’m sorry if it came across that way.”

“I’m used to it.” She shrugs.

“Maybe you are—” I run my hand through her hair and lock eyes with her. “But I never want to be the person who makes you feel that way.”

By the way her expression changes from hurt to surprise, I can tell she’s not expecting my words. She thinks I’m gonna call her out, treat her like shit like so many people before me. But I know she’s a good person. She doesn’t flaunt her wealth, she’s just used to having it—and using it. She’s trying to help in the way she knows how.

“Thank you.”

I close my fist in her, pulling gently, holding her in place. Her breath hitches every time I do it, which is always my clue that she loves it. Sweat runs down my back, fueled by the intimate stance with Liz and the scorching Atlanta sun streaming through the window.

“I think it’s silly to pay hundreds of dollars for a place to sleep—but that doesn’t say anything about how I think of you as a person. I see your generosity. I know you just want us to be comfortable. Hell, someday I hope I don’t give a fuck about how much a hotel room costs.”

“It’ll happen,” Liz assures me, nudging my nose with hers. “And you’ll still care, because not being wasteful is instilled in you. We’ll spend our money wisely.”

“We?” I ask.

“Yeah, we. Future us.”

“I love when you talk like that.”

Her acknowledgment of a future is exciting and scary simultaneously. I love that Liz sees a future with me. But whenever I think too far ahead, it seems to come crashing down around me. All I want to focus on is right now. It’s all I can control.

Liz slides her hand onto my neck and massages the back. I melt into her touch, pulling our bodies even closer.

I can’t help the slow moan that escapes as she kneads my neck. It’s an erogenous zone. And Liz knows every time she touches me there, it gets me all worked up. It’s like a secret weapon she uses to get me to chill out. She thinks she’s tricky, and I let her. Because I love her hands on me.

“Too bad we don’t have a room,” I whisper in her ear. “I want to fuck you so badly right now.”

She pulls away slightly and looks me in the eye. “Are you trying to pick a fight?”

My lips turn up in a smile, because I know she’s kidding.

“I like when you get all feisty, babe. Makes you savage in bed.”

“Whatever.” Liz rolls her eyes.

But I’m not letting it go that easily. “You start scratching my back and biting my shoulder. You ask me to slam into you harder.”

I can tell my words affect her by the way her breathing increases. She shivers and presses her body against mine. Heat pools in my torso and spreads straight to my dick. That same heat must be getting to Liz, too, because her cheeks flush a beautiful rosy pink. Which means I’m not gonna stop.

“I love the feeling of you grinding and writhing against my cock. It’s so fucking sexy.”

Suddenly, Liz’s lips crash onto mine almost as if she can’t help it. Magnets pulled together involuntarily. She moans into my mouth when I press my cock against her. I’m so ready to fuck my girl, I don’t know if I’ll be able to wait for a hotel room.

“Please let me fuck you?” I ask, breathing heavy onto her lips. “Right here.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

I laugh. “It sounds much cooler than it would really be, right?” I glance down, though I can’t even see the bench under our bodies. “This thing is too hard and small and covered in piss and—”

“Oh my god! Stop!” Liz sits up slightly.

I laugh again and hug her to me. “Sorry I mentioned that after we drove all the way here, sitting on it.”

“I feel the need to Lysol my butt.”

“Oh girl!” I nuzzle my face into her neck. “I’ll take care of your ass. Don’t you worry.”

“You suck.”

“Actually, you do. And you’re so fucking good at it.”

My comment makes her dip her head, hiding her face in my chest. I don’t understand how she can be so good at sex, yet so shy about it at the same time. As if she doesn’t realize she’s a fucking goddess. I consider it my personal mission to make her aware. Over and over again.