CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Are you going to give me the spare room key, or am I going to have to knock?” Olivia rolled her eyes at my question, grinning slightly even as her cheeks lit up with reddish-pink.
“Only if you don’t lose it this time,” Olivia said quietly, shifting her backpack on her shoulders as we walked towards the elevators. Her hotel rooms were separate from ours; the magazine booked and paid for her stays on the road. I told her more than once in the month and a half since the tour started that she could save them the trouble and the expense by simply staying in my room, but she insisted that she wanted to delay her bosses finding out about our relationship as long as she possibly could. “It was embarrassing to have to pretend like I lost my own key to get another spare.”
“People lose keys all the time,” I pointed out, glancing around briefly before I brushed a lock of her short hair out of Olivia’s face. “Especially when they get absolutely bombed on champagne.”
“That was your fault,” Olivia told me, wagging a finger in my direction. “I am not the one who smuggled an entire case of champagne out of the venue.”
“Hey! It was on the rider, and if we didn’t drink it, it was just going to go to the crew there. I left the beers behind for them.” Olivia punched the elevator button and snickered.
“Right. Playing champagne-pong in the hotel rec room was totally the only proper thing to do,” she said.
“You’re the one who decided to up the ante by making it strip champagne-pong,” I pointed out.
“On round four, after you got me bombed,” Olivia insisted. She stuck her tongue out at me. The elevator chimed and we both stepped on quickly.
“It’s not my fault that I’m so much better than you at champagne-pong,” I told her. The doors closed behind us and I took advantage of being alone with Olivia to lean in and kiss her quickly on the lips. “Besides, if I remember correctly, there was enough champagne left over for some fun experiments…” I cupped one of her tits through her clothes and gave it a quick squeeze. “I seem to recall you enjoyed the bubbles fizzing against your clit.”
“Here,” she said, giving me a little push away from her and slapping a cold plastic rectangle into my hand. “Don’t lose it this time.”
“If I do I could just invite you over to my place,” I suggested with a smirk.
“I’m not explaining to my boss how I lost another card,” Olivia said, shaking her head.
“You’re partying with musicians,” I pointed out. “These things happen. It makes your reports more realistic if you participate.” Olivia chuckled, shaking her head.
“You are a terrible influence,” she told me, poking me in the chest.
“I am the best possible influence for you,” I said. “After all, if it weren’t for me, how would you have learned that you prefer vaping pot to smoking it out of a bong?”
“Or that spicy foods are a terrible idea if you’ve already gotten drunk to the point of nausea?” Olivia shook her head again. “This is on tour. I don’t really expect this to last, Nick.”
“Why not?” I moved a little closer to her. “We started out before the tour did. We can last after it.”
“Is that really what you want?” She looked up at me and I had to make myself look at her eyes instead of her eyelashes, her lips, the pink in her cheeks. “You’ve done a great job of not hitting on anyone else…at least as far as I’ve seen,” she said. She licked her lips and it almost ruined any chance I had for focusing on her words. “But in another month or two, you’re going to get bored of me.”
“You?” I snorted, shaking my head. “How can I get bored of someone who goes into every experience totally fresh?”
“We’re running out of first times,” Olivia pointed out. “Just about the only drugs you haven’t managed to score for us are coke, meth, and E.”
“I don’t do the first two anymore, and E you really need to have a full night to enjoy. Preferably at a club somewhere.” I kissed her forehead. “You’ve smoked out with me what—five times? And every time it’s like it’s new to you. I know you smoked before—no one takes a hit that big without coughing up a lung if they’re a newbie. So it’s just who you are.”
“We’ve also done so many things sexually that we’re going to run out of new things to try there,” Olivia pointed out. We got off the elevator and started down the hall. “Face it, Nicky: you’re all about novelty, and when that wears off, you’ll get the itch again. I’ve made my peace with it.” I reached out and grabbed her hand, stopping her in the hallway.
“I want more than novelty now,” I told her lowly. “I want you. You’re excited, interested, engaged.” I smiled. “How many times do I have to tell you that it’s you I want, not just the ‘hard to get’ woman?” Olivia took a deep breath.
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” she said. She stood up on the balls of her feet and kissed me lightly. “Now let’s get our stuff put away so we don’t throw off Ron’s precious schedule.”
I walked Olivia to her hotel room door and went further down the hall to my own room; the rest of the guys had gone up already, but I’d waited for Olivia to check in, loitering in the lobby. She was right; Ron was all about our schedule while we were on tour. He especially wanted to take advantage of the increased press this time around, since Alex had made us media darlings. So, every date on the tour there was guaranteed to be at least two interviews with two different radio stations, along with some kind of promotional opportunity after the show was over—and of course, Olivia’s coverage of the tour was a constant thing.
I thought about the way things stood between Olivia and me. We’d been on tour almost two months; I’d managed to keep from even really looking at the girls who made their way backstage. Jules, Mark and Dan had managed to score about a dozen times since we’d first left for the tour—I’d stuck by Olivia. The question is: is she right? As soon as the novelty wears off, are you going to start getting that itch? Looking for something new, something fun and exciting, something mindless? I pulled my dirty clothes out of my suitcase and tossed it aside, sorting through what little I had clean to change before the radio interview.
I stripped my clothes off and threw them at the laundry bag. I didn’t think it was just novelty. The more time I spent with Olivia the more interesting I found her. Maybe that’s because she’s not just some dumb bimbo you’re picking up to sleep with once and then never see again. I grinned to myself, tugging a pair of jeans up my legs. But what if she’s right? What if it’s just exciting right now? What do I do when we’ve exhausted all of the possibilities? A second later, though, I was shaking my head again. As if two people could ever exhaust all the possibilities of things you can do in bed. I threw on a shirt and grabbed a jacket to wear over it—radio studios always seemed to be either freezing or sweltering. I pulled my shoes on and headed for the door, checking to make sure that I had all the things I needed: phone, keys, cigarettes, both key cards, and wallet. Apart from that I wouldn’t need much of anything that wasn’t in my backpack on the bus. Things will work out, I told myself.