Chapter Eighteen

Cross

 

 

When my eyes opened I somehow knew it was too early to be awake, yet I wouldn’t be able to fall back to sleep. The post-show last night had been a fucking nightmare. The girls, the squealing, the watching Drink consume far too much alcohol. I didn’t know how Dixon put up with him—share a bus, all of it. I was thinking we needed to have another sit down with Lawson to see where we were at on the whole situation. And soon. I didn’t know how much longer I’d be able to do this with Drink around.

After getting dressed and brushing my teeth as quietly as I could since Ransom was still asleep, I wanted breakfast. I could’ve gone into the venue to find food, gone out myself, or even sent someone to get it for me, but I settled for a bagel and orange juice on the bus. Anything else seemed like too much trouble.

As I finished up, someone knocked on the bus door. I honestly wasn’t expecting Indie to be on the other side.

“Can I come in?” she asked, looking up at me with those bright, blue eyes.

I couldn’t say no to her and stepped aside so she could get by me. The smell of vanilla hit me hard. Not because it was overwhelmingly strong but because it was distinctly Indie.

“I came to apologize,” she said, pinning me with her gaze.

I leaned against the counter only a foot away from her. “Apologize? For what?”

“My dad.”

I chuckled at her admission. “It’s fine. He’s a dad.”

“Yeah. But he’s not just a dad, is he?”

I shrugged her off. “Yeah, he is. I’ve been given the dad talk before. It’s fine.”

“He said he’d break your neck. Is that what all the dads say?”

No, but one had threatened me with a shotgun when I’d been sixteen. “You’ve got me there. Dads aren’t usually that specific.”

“So as I said, I’m sorry for that. He’s… well, him.”

“Listen.” I moved a few steps closer to her. “Apology accepted. It’s fine. I didn’t take him seriously.”

“Oh, he’s completely serious, but he shouldn’t have said it.”

I nodded as I ran my tongue over my bottom lip and looked from her eyes to her mouth and back again. Indie had kissed me on the cheek last night and that wasn’t exactly how I’d been planning to end the night. What I wanted then might make a good start to the morning, though.

“Have you had breakfast?” she asked suddenly.

“Sort of.” But I’d eat again if she wanted me to.

“Then how about coffee? It’s still early. I promise I won’t out you this time.”

I smiled at the memory. This time I also wouldn’t be hiding. “Let me grab my wallet.”

“OK, but I’m paying.”

It only took me a second to grab my wallet, then we stepped off the bus. The fact that we were in a new city meant that I didn’t actually know where the coffee would be, but I didn’t sweat it. There had to be something nearby. There usually was.

We set out in search of coffee, like two explorers looking for an endangered species. Either one of us could’ve easily pulled out our phone to do a quick search. But we didn’t. We seemed content to just find it ourselves.

“When did you talk to your dad?” I asked.

“Huh?”

“You talked to your dad about his little chat with me? He dropped me off at my dressing room yesterday, then I assume went to get ready, but you’d already left and I didn’t see you after the show. I know I didn’t tell you about his talk.”

“Were you looking for me?”

“Yeah.”

Indie smiled over at me, this small grin like I’d told her a secret. Wanting to spend time with her was no secret.

“He came by my bus this morning. We chatted.” She took my hand in hers as we kept walking. “But next time you’re looking for me, text. I’ll answer.”

“I’ll remember that.” And I was an idiot for not thinking to do that last night.

Two blocks from the arena we found a little place. Not a chain, but a cozy coffee shop that smelled like freshly ground beans when we walked in. Indie ordered an iced caramel macchiato, meaning she liked her coffee sweet. I’d remember that. I liked a lot of the flavors but really needed the full jolt to get through the day. Black it was.

Once they called out our names, or the name I’d given them anyway, we claimed a table in the back.

“So, I really did have a good time at dinner yesterday,” she said after taking a big drink of her coffee. “Though I hoped it might’ve ended differently.”

“Yeah?” I leaned in toward her.

“Yeah. My father getting in your face and threatening you wasn’t part of my plan.”

I chuckled because I felt the same way. “It was interesting at least.”

“True.” She took two more drinks and glanced around before talking again. “Would you maybe want to do it again, then?”

“Aren’t we right now?”

Indie rolled her eyes and grinned. “Not what I meant and you know it.”

“I definitely want to do it again. You know the schedule might make it tough, though.”

She nodded, then said, “I’m well aware, but I was thinking… ” She leaned across the table a little, bringing her close enough for me to take in that vanilla again. “Would it be possible for you to get out of the meet and greet tonight?”

“Probably.”

“Well, how about a movie on my bus?”

I couldn’t think of a better way to spend the hours after the show. What would be perfect, though, is a night off. We had one coming up in the near future and that was going to seriously be date night. I was already getting some great ideas. Just had to double check where we’d be when that night came.

Being on the road made dating hard, if not impossible. Guys who had girlfriends often brought those girls with them, even if for only part of the tour. Those who didn’t have someone typically reveled in the random sex that came with being in a band. I didn’t have the first and didn’t prefer the ladder.

But Indie… she knew this life. She’d be flexible with early dinners and super late night movies. She was as close to perfect as a woman could get for me.

I couldn’t stop watching her as she talked about school and her plans for her last year. When she reached across the table and put her hand on mine, so naturally as if we’d done that a hundred times before, my thoughts changed. All I could focus on was the feel of her hand against mine, how soft her skin was compared to my much rougher hand.

“We better get back,” she said, bringing me out of my head.

“Oh, right.” I went to stand, but she stopped me.

“I think there’s one more thing I should mention.” She was blinking and running her upper teeth over her bottom lip like she was nervous about what was to come. “Listen, I know we’re not… together. but”—she pushed her hair back behind her ear—“I wanted to talk about the medic issue.”

“What?” I gave her a half-smile.

“Groupies. I know what you guys do after shows. I’ve been around a long time.”

“I see.”

“I’m not trying to stop you from doing whatever you want to do. Unless this”—she waved her finger between us—“goes somewhere. I’m just asking that you be extra, extra discreet. My dad will freak if we’re hanging out, then he sees you with random women. It’s really close quarters on tour.”

Indie was such an amazingly odd woman. She wasn’t demanding I not to see other people. She was just asking I not rub it in her face. I’d hoped she knew I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else while with her, but I’d never said it.

“Understood,” I said, instead of saying what I should’ve mostly because we didn’t have much time and I thought we shouldn’t be rushed.

We both got up and dropped our cups in the trash, then began the walk back. Outside the shop, I slid my arm around Indie’s shoulders and without missing a beat, she did the same around my waist. Having her close made me feel like the day was going to be the best one yet.

In the short time we had, I told her a bit about my family. My parents were still married and had given me a brother and a sister. All of whom lead extremely normal lives. Dad was a teacher. Mom worked at a bank. Totally normal. Then there was me. The tattooed rebel who never intended to go to college and had rarely made curfew in high school.

We slipped into the arena without many of the fans outside noticing. Most of them were looking for Kissing Cinder anyway. Inside, I maneuvered us into a corner in the hopes of giving her a proper good-bye this time. The opposite of what we’d had the night before.

“So after the show, I’ll meet you back here?” I asked, leaning an arm on the wall and boxing her in.

“No,” she said. “Come to my bus. Less obvious that way. And after your show. Not after Kissing Cinder. If you can manage it.”

“I’ll be there,” I said quietly.

Then her gaze went from me to something next to me. I turned to see what had caught her attention. Fucking Drink. And he was glaring at Indie, which was pissing me off.

“I’ll… uh… see you later,” she said, dipping under my arm and scurrying out the door.

What the fuck was going on between those two?