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She moves closer. "I've always wanted to end up backstage with you." She shifts her hips against mine. "I've always thought about what we could do together."
Fuck, I hate the way fame makes strangers think they have permission to touch me.
This time last year, I'd have taken her up on her clumsy offer. I'd have done it right here.
Still could.
It would be an easy half hour of pleasure.
She's pretty enough. She's certainly eager enough. But I've got zero desire to fuck her.
The way she's looking at me is empty. It makes me think of Piper, of the way our conversations are full. Not sure what they're full of but it's the opposite of the way this chick is looking at me.
I pull on my new shirt. "Thanks, honey. I'll see you around."
She pouts.
I head back to the hallway.
Ethan, Mal, and Joel are hanging by the wall, shooting the shit. I nod and head over.
The tour manager Jim, cuts between us. He's wearing the same anxious expression he always is. "Where the fuck is Pete?" Jim looks at me like he's thinking about throwing me on stage to take the Sinful Serenade bassist's place. "We only have ten minutes."
Mal chuckles.
I move out of the way. Jim is always a mess. It's best to let him work himself into a frenzy. He relaxes as soon as the band steps on stage.
Joel bounces over to Jim and stage-whispers. "He's fucking his wife." He points to the dressing room down the hall.
Jim turns red.
Joel bursts into laughter as he makes his way back to us.
"You're cruel," Mal says.
"How? I helped him locate the musician who was missing." Joel shrugs. "Not like they'll mind getting caught in the act."
Mal cocks a brow.
"Don't pretend like you haven't noticed. They get 'caught' way too often for it to be accidental." Joel looks to me. "Back me up, Lockhart."
As fun as it is seeing Joel indignant, I can't deny the truth. Every time Pete's wife, Jess, visited during the tour, the two of them ended up caught in the act. They were never far from someplace truly private.
There's something sweet about how unable they are to keep their hands off each other. I can't remember the last time I actually cared about the person I was fucking. For a long time, sex has been women using me for drugs or fame and me using them for an easy distraction.
I nod back to Joel. "The dressing room locks. If they want privacy, they have it."
"That's the man's wife," Mal says. "That should mean something."
"Thanks Mr. Monogamy. When was the last time you had a serious relationship?" Joel cocks a brow. "Oh yeah, never."
Mal ignores Joel to turn to me. "I can't hear anything. Joel's too loud."
Joel smiles. "That's what I'm told."
Mal sticks out his tongue in disgust.
I do the same.
