“Well, good luck telling them that.” He pointed outside the bus to Lenny, Kyler, the band’s keyboard player Reggie, and new guitarist, Brian.
“Oh no, I’m not being the bad guy. You tell them.”
“But I don’t care.”
“If you care about me, you will. Tell them to be mindful that there’s a woman on board. Also, it’s temporary. I’ll be out of here before anyone even notices.”
“I’ll notice.”
Daisy slinked her arms around his waist. “You only want me here so you can claim the big room, with the full-sized bed.”
The big room she was referring to was, in fact, a very tiny room, in comparison to any bedroom she’d ever seen. The bus wasn’t at all terrible, minus the stench. It was made up of six bunks, a small bathroom, and a private room in the back of the bus. Apparently, this bus was much nicer than the one they’dlived in while touring with Ace Monroe, which was shocking considering the unpleasant odor that emitted from the walls.
“Well—yes, claiming the bed,” he murmured, nudging her back against the counter, “and what we do in it.” He brushed a kiss along her neck.
“Knock it off. Someone could walk in.”
“Let them,” he rasped.
“Wasn’t last night enough?”
They’d stayed up late, giddy in the newness of this place, this life, stopping only when they ran out of protection.
“It will never be enough with you,” he said, mouth at her shoulder.
Daisy was half tempted to pull him back into the bedroom when the bus door crashed open. Lenny popped his head inside. “You ready, lovebirds? Harley is going to lose it if we’re late.”
They sighed and followed him toward the amphitheater.
The outdoor Atlanta venue was brutal in the summer. Daisy’s clothes clung and the guys were soaked before they hit the stage.
And even drenched with sweat, Jameson kept reaching for her, touches and small caresses. Normally, she’d swat him away, but with Harley’s ever-watchful eye, Daisy didn’t mind playing it up.
She kept her distance from Harley, afraid she would spew her venom at any moment, prompting Daisy to rip into her. “Okay, you’re up! Jameson—enough with the horny teenage bullshit. You’ve got a show,” Harley snapped.
Everyone froze. Daisy’s cheeks flamed as heads, NYX 5 included, swiveled.
Jameson just grinned and kissed Daisy’s cheek. “Have you seen her, Harley? How am I supposed to keep my hands to myself?”
A ripple of laughter ensued as he untangled himself from Daisy and kissed her hair. “See you later,darlin’. Good luck backstage with the dictator.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Daisy stood beside Harley in the wings. Harley texted furiously until the guys were announced. The crowd roared, a wall of sound that made Daisy shiver.
This tour was different.
For starters, the accommodations were far superior. Previously, they could barely get a decent fruit platter before shows. Now, every show was catered with whatever the guys specially requested. Lenny loved his cranberry juice and lightly salted pretzels, and Kyler only needed his baked, preferably blue, tortilla chips before a show.
Jameson was different. His requests always aligned with what Daisy would want. He had no taste for watermelon and could barely stomach the smell of seafood, but alas, that’s what they brought in. Suffice it to say, the boy was whipped.
The second thing that differentiated this tour were the venues. The guys were set to perform in arenas that held twenty thousand bodies. That’s twenty thousand more people who would hear their music, twenty thousand more people who would fall in love with their sound, and twenty thousand more people who would swoon at the sight of her boyfriend. And it was that sight the crowd screamed at as the lights hit his glistening face.
Beads of sweat were already beginning to form on his forehead when his mouth pressed against the mic.
“Hello, Atlanta! Are you ready for a good show?”
The crowd rumbled even louder.
