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And of course, he thought of her. The echo of that night was rarely out of his thoughts. Now he had this to add one more reminder.
Each night, he wondered where she was when he climbed between the sheets at the swanky hotel they’d checked into. It wasn’t that he didn’t have a good idea where she stayed. A creature of habit, she was probably on the bus. But the fact that she hadn’t talked to him—even when they didn’t want to fuck up their friendship by…well, by fucking each other—proved that they’d still screwed up.
Everything.
So for the last three evenings, he’d tried to fill his mind by counting the candy bars and little bottles of gin in the mini bar. And he’d stupidly wondered if she would rather be in the room with him watching a shitty horror movie on Netflix and eating all his food.
He stared at the ceiling. How long would it take to get her out of his system? He was sure it wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
The breathy opener of the song started up again and he hit pause.
Yeah, he’d be playing this song.
He stood and followed Jules to the back of the bus, where Molly was sitting cross-legged in her bunk with her Beats cans over her ears and her eyes shut.
Jules was pacing outside her bunk.
“Well?”
Jules looked up at him with a shrug. “Princess is listening.”
“Doesn’t everyone know it?” Though he’d done the same just a moment ago. But when it came to Molly, she really was a jukebox. She knew every damn song that any of them threw at her.
“She knows it, but doesn’t know if it’s right for her voice.”
He was fairly certain she could make anything work for her powerhouse pipes, but he remained silent.
Molly pulled her cans off her ears. “And you want to sing with me?”
Put on the spot, Ryan glanced from Jules back to Molly. “Yes. Well, Jules thought it would be a fun idea, but I’m game.”
Molly tipped her head. “All right.”
Surprised, he snapped his mouth shut. “Really? That’s great.”
“We’ll do it in practice and see if it works.”
He nodded. “Perfect.” He wandered up to the front, stopping just short of Denver’s area. The odd-shaped theater filled the large window along the side of the bus.
“What the fuck is that?” Mal sprawled on the couch across from the window.
Ryan braced himself on the overhead compartment and leaned down to get a better look. “I guess they weren’t kidding when they named it The Egg.”
Denver ripped her curtain aside. “Five-minute warning. Get your panties, shorts, and/or shirts on.”
Mal glanced down at his lap. “Well, I do have jeans on. Guess that’s good enough.”
“No one cares about your commando status, Mal.” Elle rose off her yoga mat at the back of the living area.
“You’re just dying to get a look.”
“I’ve seen way more than I need to, thanks.” Elle put her hands on her hips.
Mal scratched his belly, dragging his shirt up a few inches. “I can guarantee you’d be way more relaxed if you had a real co—”
“Mal.” Ryan was getting tired of warning him to keep his opinions to himself.
Elle held up a hand. “Don’t embarrass yourself.” She headed to the sleeping area, her usual flips snapping as she strode off. Her piece-of-shit freeloader, Kirk, was sleeping it off in her bunk. He was useless and Ryan couldn’t figure out what she saw in him.
