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“Says the former psych major,” Jules piped in from the opposite couch, passing her bottle of virulent purple nail polish to Molly.
Molly eyed the color, gave a shrug, slapped some kind of separator between her toes, and went to work. “Lauren’s right,” she agreed. “A lot of so-called love is just ego speaking. People hate to think that their partner wants someone else more.”
“So says the person with the most ego on this bus.” Mal spun his beer bottle on the kitchen table and glanced out the window at the passing scenery.
Which was mostly a whole lotta nothing.
They’d left Chicago in the rearview some time ago, so right now that meant they were surrounded by brush and more brush. Endless stretches of highway were capped off by bright blue skies and relentless sun that seemed to find its way into every crevice of the bus no matter how many blinds they pulled shut.
It felt as if they’d been driving forever, and they were still on the first leg of the trip to Vegas for the Alternative, Rock, & Crossover Awards. After losing Best New Artist at the CTAs, no one seemed nearly as excited. Of course, being nominated was enough of an honor, especially for newly minted artists like them, but it was hard not to feel the burn when others were chosen. Maybe they’d get more used to it after they had more years in the business.
He just wanted off the damn bus. Wanted some fun and private time alone with Den, who’d been quiet and moody since they’d left Chicago.
That was how it seemed to work with them. Two steps forward, one step back. Two nights of glorious, mind-blowing sex, one day of uneasy silence broken by his futile attempts to get her to open up.
There was only one time she was truly open to him, and it wasn’t while she was driving their bus.
So he needed to do something bigger. Naked time was all well and good, but they were about so much more than that. Too bad she hadn’t realized that, at least when it came to them being a couple. And he was having more and more trouble being around her in front of the band without acknowledging how their relationship had changed. He understood she had her reasons, some of them job-related, but fuck, these were their friends. They weren’t going to go tattle to Lila and Donovan about Den mixing business and pleasure.
That was basically a crock of shit. Like she couldn’t drive their bus and be his girlfriend too. He wasn’t up there going down on her while she drove.
Though that was an interesting idea…
A commercial came on for an upcoming Keith Urban show near Omaha and Elle emerged from her trance. “Den, we should go,” she called out. “Aren’t we going to be in that vicinity? The show’s at the Woodson Fairgrounds. A fair too.” She grinned. “I love fairs. I’m addicted to cotton candy.”
Denver took her sweet time answering. “Eh, I dunno. We hadn’t really planned to stop in that area. Which day is it?”
“Tomorrow night. Shit, I wonder if there’s tickets left.”
“Bro seriously wails on the guitar,” West said. “I’d be up for that.”
“For real?” Ryan glanced from his best friend to his other best friend, the one who also happened to be his lover. “I knew you listened to some of that stuff, Colorado, but Keith?”
“He’s fucking gorgeous.” Elle dropped her cheek to her knee with a dreamy smile. “Watching him jam on the guitar makes me—”
“Cream your panties?” Mal asked in a bored tone, stretching out in his chair.
Elle frowned. “I was going to say he makes me want to up my game. Pervert.”
“He’s bored and cranky,” Michael offered from his spot opposite Mal at the table without looking up from his guitar mag. “He needs some stimulation.”
“Like going to some hick show?”
“No one asked you.” Elle shifted to look at Ryan, West, and Lo in turn. “The five of us could go. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
“I’d go,” Michael said. “I have no country grievances. The guy has talent.”
“I’d be in too.” Jules leaned forward and cupped her hands around her mouth. “Hey Sparks, wanna come to a hoedown with us?”
“Urban’s music is hardly suitable for a hoedown.” Molly rolled her eyes. “He has some more traditional songs, but many are firmly country pop. I actually auditioned once with ‘Stupid Girl’.”
“Not gonna suggest it was autobiographical because that’s low-hanging fruit.”
Everyone ignored Mal.
“Keith’s pretty amazing,” Ryan admitted grudgingly. He didn’t listen to a ton of country, but there was no denying the guy had chops. And a show—any show—was better than being stuck on that rattling tin can for an evening. “Can we swing it, Colorado?”
She didn’t answer right away. “You know I keep a strict timetable on the road, Waters.”
