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We weren’t going to talk about it, not now. Our mood was too sour and it was still fucking raining. The meeting broke up and we went our separate ways.
Brit had gone back to her room. She’d left early, while I was still half asleep. I texted her that tonight’s show was off, and she texted back that she was planning to run errands. Neither of us mentioned last night.
I sat with my phone in my hand, brooding. For the hundredth time, this woman had thrown me for a loop. I didn’t know what I was supposed to be doing with her. Should we go out somewhere? Like a date? Was she spooked? Did she want me to leave her alone again?
What did I want? I wanted her, any way I could get her.Man up, de Vries. Don’t be a coward.
I left my room, crossed the hall, and knocked on Brit’s door. When she opened it—she had dressed in jeans and a wraparound top, and she’d put on eyeliner that made her look a little bit goth—I leaned an elbow on the doorframe and stared her in the eye. “Hi,” I said.
“Hi,” she replied.
I kept the eye contact going. “Are we all right after last night?”
Her cheeks went red. My diabolical plan was working. “We’re fine, Axel.”
“You’re sure?” I was remembering it now. Vividly. I would definitely be up for a repeat, but since she hadn’t even invited me through the door, my chances were low. “Because there are a few weeks left on this tour. And we have to live next to each other after we get home. So we need to be good.”
“I’m good. We’re good.” She said it a little breathily, like she was remembering, too. The air crackled between us. “But we have to be careful,” she added.
“Of what?” Was she talking about sex? The problem with her shitty ex-boyfriend? We’d made spectacular progress on that last night, and if she gave me the chance, I’d get back to work.
“I’ve been thinking.” Brit traced her finger along the edge of the door. “You’re having a hard time already. You know, with the tour. And I’m supposed to be supporting you. Iwantto support you. So we shouldn’t get weird.”
There was a long beat of silence between us. Far down the hall, a door slammed.
“We shouldn’t get weird.” I repeated it back to her as a sentence.
“Axel.” She sounded like she was in pain. “What if something bad happens between us? What if we fight, or you want to break up with me, or something else goes wrong?” She shook her head. “The last time things got messed up between us, I lost you as a friend for months. And I know that was mostly my fault, but it was terrible. This would be worse.”
I knew what this was. She was worried about me. She wasn’t totally off-base—relationship problems were bad news for addicts—and yet she was completely wrong.
First of all, I didn’t want to break up with her. But mostly, I’d been fully sober forthree fucking years. This was my life now, and I wasn’t going to hide away for the rest of it, living in fear that something might go wrong. Not when there was something I actually wanted.
I leaned down and spoke into her ear. “Brit, I will be sleeping in the room across the hall from yours, from now until we go home. Right across the hall. Every night. And now you know I sleep naked.”
I pulled back, leaving her flushed, and walked back into my room.
* * *
When the bandwas in a bad mood like this one, not playing was the worst possible thing. I spent my day doing a workout, then a long yoga session, and then an attempt at a nap. But I couldn’t settle. I was going nuts, cooped up in a hotel room in a strange city. I needed to play.
So I texted the others, and they felt the same way. One thing led to another, like it sometimes did with us. And the next thing I knew, we were playing a free show at the Majestic Theater, which didn’t have an act booked that night.
Don’t ask me how it happened. Sometimes, shit just goes down when we’re barely trying.
It was last minute, and we got in trouble, and it was still raining, but during that show something turned a corner for us on this tour. We played our frustrations out. But, more than that, we felt like we were running our own destiny again, at least for one night. It was just the Road Kings, the fans, and the music—no schedule, no money worries, just a good time. Like it was supposed to be.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Axel
I banged Brit’s hotel room door open, followed her through, then banged it closed behind us. I pushed her up against it, kissing her as her hands fisted my hair.
We’d lasted until Baltimore. Pretty good, considering how much time we spent together. We behaved. But tonight, I didn’t even remember who had made the first move. It felt like we jumped each other at the same time. I don’t think either of us even spoke.
Brit pulled at my shirt. I worked at the button of her jeans. She bit my lip. I slid my hand down over her panties, teasing her through the thin fabric.
She pushed me away, but only because she wanted to take my hand and drag me to the bed. Somehow my shirt was gone, then my pants, then hers. This was going to be fast.
