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Frigid December air hit him immediately and a shiver ripped through him, his nipples pebbling in protest. When he saw who it was, his urge to pound the person into the ground dissipated and, instead, he jerked his head toward the interior of Crazy Pete’s.
After Rex stepped inside, Dodge slammed the door shut behind him, shutting out the cold winter night.
“Looking for Syn. She still in here?”
“You don’t know where she is?”
“She said something about finding a place to shower—”
“Yeah. That’s where she’s at.”
“And where is that?”
He studied the man before him. The urge to pound him returned. “Where the fuck d’you think it is?”
“Take me to her.”
This asshole thought he could make demands. He was wrong. “No. She probably never gets privacy. Leave her alone for now.”
“We’re not leaving her here,” Rex insisted.
We’re? Only one guy stood in front of him in the narrow hallway. Dodge had purposely positioned himself so he blocked Rex from moving farther inside.
“Good for you. Glad you’re protectin’ her ass. Don’t want you leavin’ her here, either. She ain’t a fuckin’ stray cat.” Though, she did wear those stupid cat ears. “When she’s done, I’ll shoo her back to your piece of shit on wheels.”
“I’ll wait for her.”
Someone was confused on who was in charge of the domain they stood in. “She’s safe here.”
Rex’s gaze slid over Dodge’s bare chest, his tattoos, his white boxer shorts and his bare legs. Not in a sexual way but more in a sizing Dodge up way. “With you?”
He should be fucking insulted. “Yeah, with me. Never had to force myself on any woman. Ain’t gonna start tonight.”
“How do we know that?”
We again. “You don’t. But just like I trusted her when she told me your band was good, she musta trusted me enough to ask to use my shower.”
“I’ll wait for her,” he grumbled again, his gaze lifting over Dodge’s bare shoulder toward the interior of the bar.
“You doin’ her?”
A muscle in Rex’s clean-shaven jaw twitched.
It had to be the only explanation for Rex being so damn protective. Either that or he was worried about something happening to his meal ticket. Because without her, the band most likely wouldn’t even get offered an open bar tab. Maybe at a college bar somewhere where most of the patrons were drunk off their asses and thought Justin Bieber was good music.
Dodge tried again. “Any of you doin’ her?”
The lead guitarist’s muscle twitch rose into his cheek. “None of us are doing her. We know better than to fuck up a good thing. We’re not stupid and are aware we’d be shit without her. Without her, we’d be working some minimum wage job somewhere dying a little more inside every fucking day. We might not make a lot of money doing what we do—yet—but at least we love what we do. We can go to sleep content and not miserable every fucking night.”
He suddenly found a little bit of respect for the man before him. “Money ain’t everythin’.”
“But it helps.”
“Can’t argue that. Look, our club owns a motel on the other side of town—”
Rex quickly interrupted. “We’re okay. We’re used to living in the bus.”
Yeah, money ain’t everything but it was needed to rent a motel room. He sighed.
He couldn’t put them up for free at the motel. He didn’t have the power to make that decision. More importantly, he doubted Trip or Ozzy would be happy about being woken up in the middle of the night over some almost-homeless band.
“All right. Go back to your bus. I’ll make sure she gets back safely.”
Rex stared at him a few more seconds, then his lips flattened out and his expression turned slightly sheepish. “Do you have any extra cases of water?”
Dodge’s eyebrows rose.
Rex quickly continued. “We only made twenty-one bucks in tips and that won’t even pay for enough diesel to get to a store. Even if it did, when we got there, we’d have nothing left…”
Christ. Was it more important they go to bed content every night? Or with their guts full? He got that working a shitty job sucked but sometimes you had to nut up and be responsible.
Dodge made him squirm a few seconds before he said, “Yeah,” and tipped his head toward the end of the hallway. “Come with me.”
Rex followed him in the storage area and Dodge pointed to a stack of bottled water. “Take a case now. Will give you another tomorrow when you come in for food. I’ll cover your food ’til after you play Friday night, then that’s it. And anyway, our food selection sucks.”
“Better than nothing,” Rex mumbled as he heaved a twenty-four pack into his arms.
True. Something was better than nothing. Trip’s words to live by.
Dodge snagged a case of Coke, too, and set it on top of the water in his arms, making Rex dip a little with the weight. “There you go.”
