Mayhem

His phone beeps a third time, and I use my hands to coax his face back to mine. I’m trying to tell him he needs to check his phone because I think he might be late, but he covers my mouth with his before I can, doing this thing with his tongue that makes me forget whatever it was I was going to say.

His phone beeps again, and I wiggle down and reach into his back pocket. I check the time on his phone and see that he’s five minutes late and has four missed texts from Shawn.

“You’re late,” I say between kisses.

“I’m always late.”

The door to the room suddenly swings open and Shawn is standing there rolling his eyes. “For fuck’s sake, Adam, you’ve just been making out for twenty-five damn minutes?”

I can’t help laughing, too drunk by now to feel embarrassed. Adam smiles down at me. “She’s a really good kisser.”

Shawn walks over and grabs Adam by the back of his jeans, hauling him off of me. “Come on, man. You can see her after.” Looking down at me, he adds, “Sorry.”

I straighten my top and sit up, feeling all kinds of giggly inside. I just made out with Adam Everest, who was, hands down, the best kisser of my life.

“Shawn, this is Peach,” Adam says, and as soon as I stand up, Shawn reluctantly reaches forward to shake my hand.

“Hi Shawn.”

“Hi Peach.”

Adam shakes the zipper of his jeans as he adjusts himself, and a fierce blush heats my cheeks. “See,” he says, “we’re all friends now. Stop getting your panties in a bunch, Shawn.”

Shawn sighs. “Peach, you can hang backstage during the show if you want.” He shoots a look at Adam. “But we do have a show we need to put on. Five minutes ago.”

“I can’t,” I say as we’re walking back through the hallway. “I’m here with a friend.”

“So bring her back too,” Adam says from behind me.

I don’t reply because that is such a bad idea. Dee has been with a lot of guys, but none like Adam or Shawn. Bad combination. Bad.

I stay silent as I descend the stairs. Adam and Shawn patiently wait for me to put my shoes back on, and then we slip back into Mayhem, entering through a backstage door. Before I can leave to find Dee, Adam wraps his hand around my waist and tugs me into a corner.

“Come back to the bus after the show,” he says.

I press my hands over his ears and pull him down to my lips, kissing him because I know it’ll be the last time I ever get to. I make it count, savoring every last second of the way his silky-soft lips mesh with mine. When I release him, he looks like he’s seriously contemplating mauling me right there on the backstage floor, and I grin up at him.

Then I walk away.

When I fish my phone out of my purse, I have three missed texts from Dee.

You’re kidding.

You’re not kidding!

OMG, what are you doing, getting pregnant?!

I chuckle and text her back, asking where she is, and she tells me she’ll meet me at the bar. The whole time I’m walking, I’m paranoid I’ll see Brady. My eyes dart to every guy with moussed blond hair I see. I kind of wish I had left my heels off, because I’m still tipsy as hell and using people’s shoulders to keep me balanced as I weave through the crowd.

Dee suddenly bounds up to me from the direction of the bar and slaps her hands on my shoulders with a huge grin on her face. “You are DRUNK!”

I realize I’m squinting my right eye—my telltale giveaway—at the same time I tip to the side from the impact of her hands. I grip her arms to steady myself. “A little,” I admit with a sheepish grin.

“So what did he look like?!”

The squeal of a microphone interrupts our conversation, and we both look up to the stage as everyone starts screaming their heads off and surging to move closer to where Adam is standing, front and center. He grips the microphone and pulls it from its stand, swinging the cord around to move closer to the edge of the stage.

I turn back to Dee, needing to tell her about Brady before I lose my nerve. “Dee—”

Adam’s voice interrupts me. “I see a lot of pretty girls in the crowd tonight.” The girls scream even louder, making my attempts to speak to Dee futile. She screams right along with them, and I give up, surrendering all of my attention to Adam and feeling my skin heat at the sight of him. When Dee invited me to the show, she told me that the band is really popular around here and is only getting bigger; judging by the crowd’s enthusiasm, they must be incredible.

Adam runs a hand through his hair, tugging it away from his eyes and dropping it to the side. “Shawn over here just pulled me away from the hottest one here less than two minutes ago!” Shawn laughs, and so does the crowd. Adam mumbles, “Thanks a lot, Shawn.”

Shawn leans into his back-up microphone and says, “You’re welcome, Adam.” He points out at the audience. “Can I get a ‘Thank you, Shawn’?”

Adam holds his microphone to the audience, and in unison, everyone shouts, “Thank you, Shawn!”

Adam shakes his head. “You all suck.” He says it with a chuckle, and everyone laughs. “Peach!” he suddenly yells. And even though he has no idea where I am in the crowd, my skin flushes a fiery shade of pink. “I want you to know that your boyfriend is a goddamned idiot. I can’t wait to help you forget about him some more as soon as we’re done with this set!”

With that, the band starts playing, and Adam launches right into their first song. I suddenly feel the need to fan myself off, and when I glance at Dee, she looks like she could use some air just as much as I could. She turns to me and says, “He is so. fucking. hot!”