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Also, he was a bitter dickhead who was jealous of his best friends getting all happily coupled up when he hadn’t even thought he minded being single. And he hadn’t.
Until fucking Denver.
It wasn’t the single part that was sticking at him. It was the not getting to touch her again. Not getting to hear her moans or her sighs or watching as she let go of the control she wore as armor. As she’d trusted him to know what she’d needed and to deliver it. That was new, all so new, but if she’d just given them a chance, they could’ve—
What? What could they have done? Two defiantly single people who’d been friends for a while—the best of friends—and lived on a bus that grew no roots. So they could fuck and travel around together and be happy. That obviously wasn’t a consideration. Because he’d fucked up by following his ego into that back room and getting into trouble. Gambling wasn’t a dirty little secret. It had just been the first thing to make him feel something in a damn long time.
Something to mask the needs that had been steadily growing for Denver. Opening that Pandora’s box had certainly made that clear. Because he sure as hell didn’t want to walk away from more of her—of them.
“We’re doing good,” Ryan muttered, affixing a smile on his face since West was waiting for some sort of reply. His normally good-spirited buddy was wandering among the clouds lately, and if he sensed even the slightest weakness in Ryan, he’d pounce.
“You okay? You seem off, man.”
Yep, there it was. The “I’m in love and fucking like a rabbit on speed and you’re not” smile of halfhearted concern. “Doing great.” Ryan shucked his sneakers and swapped his socks and jeans for the clean ones, then pulled back on his sneakers. He tossed the dirty clothes in his duffel and slung it over his shoulder. “Couldn’t be better.”
“You sure about that?” West fell into step beside him as he headed over to the refreshments table to grab a soda. Others in his band were already into the beer, but Ryan wasn’t looking to get drunk. It would be too easy to fall into a vat of liquor and not climb out until he didn’t remember Denver giving him the brush-off.
“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?” Ryan popped the top on a Mountain Dew and then cursed before he’d taken the first sip. Of course. Denver’s choice for a caffeine fix during the conversation where she’d decided to drive a skewer into his ribs.
He tossed back half the can in one swallow. Still hadn’t deflated his dick in her direction though. Far from it.
“Just, you know, everything’s changed with us. The three of us. Aw, hell.” West scratched the back of his neck and averted his gaze. “Just stuff’s different now.”
“Always eloquent, pal.” Ryan shook his head. “You’re good?”
“Yeah.” West inclined his chin in Lauren’s direction. “Really good. You know Lo. She’s incredible.”
“Yes, she is. So maybe you should be celebrating with her instead of dick-dogging me.”
West’s brow furrowed as he dipped his head. His hair was growing back after his impromptu decision to go bald onstage a few months ago, and he had a blond, spiky thing going on. “Don’t even know what that means, but I’m definitely not on your dick. In your dreams.”
“I’ll pass. Just saying, don’t worry I’m not getting any. It’s all good in that arena.”
“There’s more to life than sex.” West’s brows lifted. “Holy shit, did I just say that?” He patted his chest as if he were checking to see if he was still in one piece. “Damn. I better have a drink before I start spouting poetry or something.”
Ryan laughed and shoved him toward the other end of the refreshments table. “You just do that.”
He was still laughing as he turned around to tell Lauren that her dude needed some help finding his man card. But before his gaze landed on Lauren, his phone went off again. Without looking, he knew who it was. The older guy who’d texted him about the game. It would be starting before long.
Time to put up or shut up.
“Party people, I have an idea,” West called out.
Ryan groaned with everyone else as he cupped his phone in his pocket. He’d deal with it soon enough.
West moved toward Lo, beer in hand, and stepped between her and Jules. He glanced over his shoulder as a flash of brown hair moved into Ryan’s eye line. “Hey there, Denver. Join the fun. We’re just about to move this thing somewhere else. Assuming everyone is on board.” He waggled his brows at Lo, who tipped her head back at him quizzically. He bent down to whisper in her ear and she clapped like a kid about to get in line for a new toy.
New toys plural, it turned out.
“There’s a new shop just up the block from this place. Called The Velvet Vault. I’ll give you a couple guesses what vault they’re talking about, and it ain’t belonging to a bank.” West smirked and stroked a hand down his girlfriend’s shoulder. “I think we should check it out. The place is supposed to be super classy.”
“Who told you that?” Jules asked, letting out a snort.
“Your boyfriend, actually,” West tossed back. “One of them.”
The boyfriend West was referring to had to be Randy, since he was the head of the lighting staff and often traveled with the band. He’d just joined up with them tonight since this was a stripped-down segment of the tour and he’d had other work on the west coast. The other guy in their committed threesome, Tristan, was home running his restaurant in LA.
“Oh. Hmm.” Juliet pursed her lips. “Is that so?”
