We leave Ohio today and head for Indiana. It’s been three days of illness, laughs, hugs, cuddling and “sexy times,” as my girl likes to call them. I love what I do; music is a part of me. It’s just that Stacy . . . well, she’s my heart. I can’t live without her. I’m not ready to leave this hotel room, this bubble we’ve been in for the past three days. I want to stay here, wrapped up in us.
“Okay, I think I’ve got everything.”
I watch as she walks around the room, making sure we won’t be leaving anything behind. It’s very . . . domestic, and I’m digging it.
“Did you get your medicine?” I ask. I know she’s feeling better, but the doctor said she had to take them all. I won’t let her forget. I don’t want to see her sick again, at least not any time soon. Breaks my fucking heart.
“Got it.” She looks in her purse just to make sure she really does have it.
“Tristan just sent me a text saying they’re here. The bus is parked in the back lot. It’s our best bet to avoid the crowds.”
“I still can’t believe people have been hanging around here since we checked in just to get a glimpse of us.”
“Welcome to my world.”
“It’s kind of my world now too, you know?”
“You’re damn right it is.” I pull her into a kiss. She finally let me kiss her yesterday. Fuck you, strep throat!
“Yeah, I mean, I’m the band’s assistant to the assistant, or whatever you want to call me.”
No, you’re mine. “You’re more than that,” I correct her as I kiss her again.
“Hmmm, you’re right. I’m the lead singer’s wife’s best friend.”
She’s baiting me. That’s fine—I’ll tell her a thousand times a day, if that’s what it takes.
“You’re that too, but there’s still more. The most important.”
“Let’s see.” She taps her index finger against her chin. “You’re right! I completely forgot about Tristan, Gavin and Kacen. Those guys are like brothers to me.”
What? She brings my boys into this before me? “You’re mine,” I growl before crashing my lips against hers. Thankfully, my cell beeps, reminding me that we need to go.
“That’s Tristan. We should head out.” I kiss her one more time. Our privacy is gone again, at least for the next four weeks. After that, I’m locking us both in my place for a week, maybe longer. I don’t know that I’ll ever be okay with sharing her.
She steps back, but I grab her and pull her close again. “I need to hear you say it, sweets.”
Smiling up at me, she crooks her finger, beckoning me closer. I bend down until her lips are next to my ear. “There’s this guy. His name is Cole Hampton, and he’s this big-time rock star, but it’s more than that. He makes my heart skip a beat every time he tells me I’m his.”
I crush her to my chest. “Always,” I breathe against her neck.
My phone goes off again. Fucking Tristan. I’m having a moment with my girl.
“Sweets, we have to go.”
“I know. If my boyfriend, Cole, finds me with you, he’s going to be pissed.”
I smack her ass and she runs toward the door, laughing.
“Come on, slow poke, Tristan’s waiting.”
When we walk on the bus, they all stop and stare at us. This is the first time we’ve seen them during the break.
“How are you feeling?” Logan asks Stacy.
“So much better. I’m no longer contagious, I’ve been fever-free for over forty-eight hours, and I’m still taking my medicine.” She crouches down in front of Logan, who is sitting on the couch. “How’s this little guy? You been feeling okay? I didn’t get you sick, did I?”
Logan laughs. “No, I feel great. This one,”—she pats her ever-growing belly—“he likes to pretend he’s playing soccer, and there really isn’t that much room.”
“How long, eight weeks left?” Stacy asks.
“Yep. I had a checkup yesterday. We actually went to this ‘Mommy and Me’ place, and I got to have a 4-D ultrasound. You have to see these pictures.” She goes to stand, but Tristan scolds her.
“Don’t move, woman, I got this.” He pulls the pictures from the clip off the refrigerator and hands them to Stacy.
“So, you ready for one of those?” Tristan asks, pointing to the pictures the girls and Kace are now gushing over.
Am I? “Someday,” I reply, brushing him off. I’ve never given it much thought until now. I like kids, and Mia is a ball to be around. I’ve never thought about being with one woman long enough to want my own, but standing here, watching Stacy smile with Logan as they look at the pictures, I can see it. I can see her growing round with our baby. The thought doesn’t scare me; a year ago, it would have.
“She good?” he asks, nodding toward Stacy.
I clap him on the shoulder. “Yeah, man. She’s good.” Better than good—she’s fucking amazing.
“Now that we’re all here, the label is putting together an after-party. It’s scheduled right after the show in two weeks. They would like for all of us to attend,” Gavin explains.
“I guess we’ve been lucky up to this point. This is the first time they’ve summoned us,” Kacen comments.
“I thought we were going to get lucky,” Tristan adds.
“Is this a bad thing?” Logan asks.
“Not really, it’s just a fucking dog and pony show. The last thing any of us want to do is schmooze after putting on a show,” Kacen explains.
“Girls’ night,” Stacy says, high-fiving Logan.
“Oh no, sweets. ‘All of us’ includes the two of you.” I hold a hand out to help her up, and she immediately tucks into my side. I fucking love that shit. Love that she knows that’s where I want her.
“But we’re not part of the band,” Logan chimes in.
“Baby, you’re my wife. Of course you are.” Kacen kisses her.
“And you.” Stacy lifts her head to look at me. “You’re mine, remember?” I say, just for her ears only.
She grins. “I might be able to get away from my boyfriend, but he gets jealous easily, so we’ll have to be covert about it.”
I kiss her.
What the hell else am I going to do with her? She gets me, yet she’s still mine.
“Ugh, I have nothing party-worthy that fits. Do we have to go?” Logan whines.
“Yes, baby, I want you there. You look beautiful in anything. Besides, it’s two weeks from now, which gives you two time to find something new,” Kacen croons.
“Something sexy,” I whisper in Stacy’s ear.
“I’ll let them know that we’re in,” Gavin announces.
“Do we have a choice?” Tristan fires back.
“No, but it’s nice to make them think we’re playing the game. Because that’s exactly what this is,” Gavin replies.
“Fucking Wilson,” I mumble. The CEO of Stone Records is a dick. He knows we hate this shit, especially after a show, but he doesn’t care. It would be different if the party was for the band, because we could come straight from the show, but it’s the label’s shindig. We have to appear “presentable”—straight from the dick’s mouth.
On the bright side, my girl gets to buy a sexy dress, and this time, she’ll be going home with me at the end of the night. She makes everything better.