Page 61 of The Rogues

But then I think about the other side of him that showed up in my hotel room last night, the rough and dominant facet I’d never seen before. His rugged, husky breath and the firm grip of his fingertips against the sides of my throat. The entire experience left a stamp on my body, collapsing the rest of my resolve immediately.

I guess all of the guys are like their namesake, because Jamie Morrison definitely went rogue last night, and the payoff was astounding.

Even standing here, watching the guys perform when I should be checking my guitar and getting my makeup touched up backstage, I am still out of breath. My eyes roam over them, their instruments working in tandem as much as they are. I don’t think many people notice, but they check in with each other throughout the sets every night. Little looks here and there, subtle nods, shoulder squeezes when they pass by each other. From the outside, I bet those gestures look so normal and friendly, but to me, I know they hold weight. They love each other, in more ways than one, and it’s remarkable to witness firsthand. The band with so much grit and mystery are actually a pack full of softies.

“They’re good.” I flinch at the voice, before turning to see Jamie’s friend from the bar.

“Ethan,” I greet him. “I didn’t know you were still in town.”

“Our label had us down for two shows. I’m supposed to be on a bus right now, but I told them I would catch up. I had to come see the guys play one last time.”

My brow furrows. “One last time?”

He shrugs. “I think… traveling, being on the road all the time, it might not be for me.”

Despite the shock of hearing that, it speaks right to the doubt I’ve been having every time we’re on tour. “It’s not an easy thing to do. I agree with you completely. Do your bandmates feel the same way?”

“I’m glad you agree it’s not everything it’s cracked up to be, but it isn’t just that.” He swallows, the sound rough. “Our label is going to drop us,” he confesses, and my stomach drops. “I have this feeling. We just haven’t been performing the way we should, and to be honest, we’re not getting along anymore either. I think it’s time to call it.”

My mouth gapes. “I’m so sorry. That’s awful.”

He shakes his head, looking anything but troubled. “It’s okay.” He pauses, then says, “I thought this was what I wanted, but I think I want something else more.”

I nod, understanding. “At the end of the day, this is a job. If you’re not loving it, then there’s really no point in putting your body and mind through the stress.”

“I heard you’re the lyricist of the group; makes sense.”

I chuckle and ask, “What will you do instead?”

“I miss Kiss Cove,” he admits. “And there’s someone there I left on bad terms with. I think… I think I need to go home.”

The meaning settles over me and I can’t help but feel proud of this semi-stranger beside me.

“Just… don’t tell Jamie, okay?” Ethan says after the encore starts. “I want to tell him myself. I don’t want him to be sad about it for me. He’s like that, and I don’t need him to think it’s some major loss or anything. I’ve accepted it, and I’m ready to move on.”

I nod. “Of course. And hey, you got to live this dream for a little bit. Now, you can fulfill your other dream.”

His smile is weak, but present nonetheless. “If it’ll have me.”

The rest of the encore is short-lived. I can tell the guys are exhausted the second they step around the corner, the arena dark so they can make their getaway. Lennon is panting, and his lacey white shirt is soaked through where it hangs on his body. When the lights come back on, Ethan throws him the water bottle he was holding.

“Thanks, mate,” he says in response before downing the bottle in one go. Jamie walks toward us, his hair wet with sweat, the blond tips underneath sticking to his neck. My eyes trail to his exposed abs in that glorious crop top that he likes to wear, the rose tattoo on his hip sticking out as a teasing reminder of last night.

My omega stirs at the sight. I got very close and intimate with that tattoo. My heart thumps faster remembering when he got it, how he wanted a reminder of me even when I wasn’t reciprocating the same enthusiasm. It makes me feel whole, like everything is going to be okay despite all the odds stacked against us.

And it also makes me horny as hell.

Luckily, no one can smell my champagne scent over all the insane scents back here, not to mention the descenter that they respray every hour or so.

Jamie sees me, a smile dancing on his lips. Before he can say anything, he notices Ethan, his eyes widening. “Holy shit, man. I thought you already left.”

“I wanted to see you again before I took off to Nampa,” Ethan tells him.

“I have to get something for Lennon from the dressing room,” he says, “Walk with me?”

Jamie passes by me, his hand touching my shoulder in a reassuring squeeze before heading down the corridor. I smile, holding my shoulder.

I got one of those pack squeezes, I think happily.