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A muffled screech came from Molly’s bunk as she looked out. “What the hell?”
“We’re here.”
She glared at him then snapped her curtain shut again.
He sighed. He had to make up with Molly. She might be a queen bitch some days, but she’d been right. He had been too scattered, he just didn’t want to own up to it.
Talking it out with the rest of the band had helped, but it wasn’t fair to let Molly think he was going to continue to be an asshole about it.
One by one, the ladies rolled out with whatever case full of magic they used to get ready for the shows. Jules and Molly usually had a contest for the biggest bag, but lately Elle had been in hot pursuit.
“Ry, can you take this?” Elle peeked out from her bunk, the wheels of her case eye level with him.
“Sure.” He lifted it with a grunt and set it on the floor. Yeah, definitely catching up with the other ladies. Personally, he was happy to see Elle opening up and getting tight with them. He’d worried about her at first.
The band had started as such a pack of ill-fitting pieces, but after a few months—and an album in the can—they’d really become a tight unit.
Ryan moved to the edge of the bunk area to give her room to jump down.
Just as she and her hot-pink Chucks landed, Mal came out of the bathroom without a shirt.
She swallowed and tried to get out of his way, but Mal crowded her before reaching for another of his tattered death metal shirts from the skinny cupboard at the end of the bunks. His version of getting ready.
Elle shrank back and scooted by Ryan to take the telescopic handle of her bag. She hurried off the bus without saying another word.
Ryan was pretty sure Mal did half of his asshole moves to get under her skin. “Careful there, man.”
Mal cracked his neck and gave him a blank stare. “What was that?”
“Elle’s not up for your games.”
“I don’t play with girls.” Mal muscled by him, slamming his shoulder into the edge of the bunks.
Ryan winced and rubbed his shoulder. Always had to be the one that he’d landed on in that fucking alley. He shook his head and pulled his duffel bag out of his bunk. He didn’t need much, just a change of clothes for after the show.
He followed Mal off the bus, but instead of heading into the venue with the rest of the band, he waited for Molly. He juggled his duffel from hand to hand, then dropped it when Molly came down the stairs with a muttered threat at the narrow door.
“Here, let me help.”
Her eyebrow arched, but she let him take her bright green case. “Thanks.”
He set it on the ground. “Look, about earlier.”
She waved her hand. “It’s fine.”
“No. It’s not. I was being a jerk.”
She flicked an errant curl out of her face before clasping her hands in front of her. “Come again?”
He blew out a breath. “I was being a jerk. I’m trying to get it together. I even went over the setlist with the rest of the guys.”
“And didn’t include me?”
He felt his cheeks heat. “I am now. I needed to calm down.”
“Fair enough.” She snapped the handle up on her suitcase. “We’ll iron it out in soundcheck.” She started to walk away from him and stopped, but she didn’t turn around. “Thanks for the apology.” Then she hurried off for the side door that was propped open for them.
He picked up his bag but before he could get to the door, a small crowd of people noticed him. “Aw crap.” He looked over his shoulder. Usually he wasn’t the main target of the fan base. They loved West’s antics and Molly’s frontwoman status. Hell, they even flocked to Malachi despite his indifferent attitude toward the fans.
