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“Holy shit!” I shout.
Amy playfully wags her finger at me. “Now, don’t you dare forget I’m bound by an iron-clad NDA! I wouldn’t put it past Reed to have me murdered if he found out I told you this story.”
“I won’t say a word. But I promise Reed wouldn’t care if he found out you told me. I’m sure he’d laugh, seeing as how he’s engaged to that reporter now.”
Amy’s green eyes bug out. “What?”
“Yep. At this point, I bet Reed would love for the whole world to know he was eating his fiancée’s pussy backstage at an RCR concert, while C-Bomb was doing his mighty best to get her into his bed.”
Amy guffaws.
“How’d Caleb take it when you told him Reed had swooped in on the reporter?” I ask.
“Oh, he was pissed as hell. But, thankfully, not at me. Caleb was surprisingly nice about it when I told him. Although . . . when I told Caleb the news, I had a huge welt on my forehead from smacking into a wall after walking in on Reed, and thanks to that welt, Caleb started calling me ‘Unicorn’ that day and kept doing it for the whole rest of the tour.” She unleashes a husky, throaty laugh that sends butterflies whooshing into my belly and arousal zinging across my skin. Damn. If Amy were anyone else, that sexy laugh would be a huge turn-on for me, every bit as much as those incredible tits.
Whoa.
Hold on.
It’s suddenly dawning on me Amy might very well have just told me, in code, she had a tour fling with Caleb! Because I certainly don’t remember Caleb being particularly “nice” to a single staffer during our tour together. And he certainly never gave anyone a cute little nickname, even in jest.
On the other hand, I don’t remember Caleb banging any staffers during our tour together. So, I don’t think that’s his M.O. But I certainly wouldn’t put it past him, either. Especially if the right woman had caught his eye . . . like, maybe, a sweet cutie pie he knew he’d be glued to the hip with for the next nine months?
Adrenaline floods my veins. An acute sense of protectiveness. Or is this jealousy? I have no right to have an opinion about what Amy might have done during the tour, and with whom. But, still, I can’t deny the thought of Caleb’s huge hands on her . . .
Oh, God.
I feel sick.
“From what I saw,” Amy is saying when I tune back in, “fame isn’t everything it’s cut out to be. I wouldn’t want to trade places with anyone in the band, but especially not Dean or C-Bomb. They can’t go anywhere without being recognized.”
“It’s the same with Dax. I’m lucky. People recognize me, but not nearly as much as Dax or Dean or C-Bomb. And when they do, they’re usually pretty chill.” I look out my side of the car. “The whole concept of ‘celebrity’ is a total mindfuck. I know I’m still the same guy who lived on Cedar Street. The guy who used to get teased as a kid. But to the outside world, I’m somehow ‘special’ and ‘set apart,’ the coolest of the cool kids, through no particular worthiness on my part.”
Amy glances from the road to look at me. “You were teased as a kid?”
“Mercilessly. You remember those older kids who lived on the corner? They were relentless.”
Amy is floored. “I must have been too young to notice. What’d they tease you about?”
“For being chubby, mostly. Also, for having the wrong shoes and clothes. This was years before my mom married my stepdad, so money was extra tight in my house back then.”
She furrows her brow. “You were never chubby.”
I chuckle. “So, you’re conceding I had the wrong shoes and clothes?”
She giggles. “I never noticed what you were wearing. But I certainly remember going to the community pool with you and Logan, and your body was perfect.”
“You didn’t notice I always kept my T-shirt on while swimming?”
She’s clearly blown away. “No.”
I nod. “I never took off my shirt in public back then. I was super insecure about my body. That’s why I started playing drums, initially. Because I’d heard it’s a good workout.”
“And here I thought you did it to impress girls.”
“Well, that, too.”
“Seems like your plan worked like gangbusters, on both fronts.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, it’s all turned out okay. Once I started getting into drumming, one thing led to another. I started hitting the gym to improve my stamina while playing, and that further transformed my body and attracted even more attention from girls.”
“And here you are—an underwear model.” She gasps. “Oh my gosh! This puts that underwear ad in a whole new light!” She turns her gaze to me, her green eyes blazing and her mouth wide. “You must have felt such a huge sense of accomplishment when they asked you to model underwear!”
