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“I know exactly what I’m missing, and I’m good with it.” That seemed to shut Noah up, and they walked the rest of the way in silence.
Still, the first thing Zac did when they boarded the bus was look around the living room for Cassie, wondering if she might have already gone to bed. She hadn’t. She was curled up in the corner one of the couches, a notebook and pen in her hands, looking up at them with a shy smile as they all filed in. Seeing her sitting there, so small and alone, an echo of sadness still showing in her eyes, made his chest ache unexpectedly.
She stood up, clutching the notebook to her stomach. “How was the after-party?”
“Same shit, different day,” Tex answered as he stretched his tattooed arms over his head, his fingertips brushing the ceiling of the bus.
Maggie walked in behind them, checking they were ready to go, then headed up to the front. The rumble of the bus engine started a few minutes later.
Zac sat down at the kitchen table with his phone in his hand as the others spread out around the living room, talking about the show and how enthusiastic the crowd had been. They made an effort to include Cassie in the conversation, but while she made the occasional comment, she seemed mostly happier just listening.
When he realized he’d been watching her long enough to give Noah the wrong idea, Zac looked down at his phone. He scrolled through Fractured’s various social media feeds, replying to some comments, only half-listening to the conversation.
Eventually, Tex announced he was going to hit the sack, and the others echoed the sentiment. Zac didn’t budge as everyone said good night and made their way to their bunks. He’d organized to call his Crossfire bandmates in about ten minutes’ time to run through some of the songs they were working on for the album.
“Are you staying up?” Cassie’s voice startled him. She was still sitting on the couch, but while he’d been distracted with his phone, she’d changed into what was obviously her sleep outfit. A little white camisole top that clung enticingly to her full breasts and tight, pale pink sleep shorts, which did far too good a job of showing off her legs.
Zac dragged his eyes away from all that smooth, exposed skin. The last thing either of them needed was him eye fucking her, even if she looked as sexy as hell sitting there in her pajamas. He had no interest in proving Noah right.
“Yeah, I’ve got to fit in a songwriting session with the guys back home.”
“Aren’t you tired?”
“Aren’t you?”
She smiled. “I didn’t perform on stage and party all night.”
“You’ve had a pretty rough twenty-four hours, though.”
He regretted saying it when her smile faltered. She looked down at her notebook and rolled her pen between her fingers. “If I go to sleep, then I have to wake up and remember what happened all over again.” She met his gaze, her eyes shadowed, expression somber. “Would it bother you if I stayed up? I’ll be quiet, but I’d like to write some more before I go to bed.”
“What are you writing?”
She hesitated, her fingers brushing the open page. “Just some thoughts.”
Zac understood the need to get what was in your head out onto a page. His therapy had always been chords and notes. Apparently, hers was writing.
“I don’t mind,” he said.
She gave him a solemn little nod before returning her attention to her notebook. He studied her for a few more seconds, then dialed Beau.
“Hey, man!” Crossfire’s bass player had a grin on his face as he answered. “We have to stop meeting like this.”
Devon, their guitarist, and Caleb, the drummer who’d replaced Noah when he left Crossfire the year before, appeared over Beau’s shoulders.
“I was half expecting you might cancel tonight,” Caleb said. “It’s been a couple of weeks since the tour started. I thought this might be the night you gave work a miss and let little Zac out to play.”
Zac’s lips quirked. “There’s nothing little about it.” He might be a man in his thirties, but he was still a guy.
Devon snorted. “Yeah, we heard all about it when you took that blonde woman back to your hotel room on our last tour. I think the whole fucking floor of the hotel heard about it.”
Zac’s gaze locked with Cassie’s. A pretty flush infused the skin of her cheeks, and she quickly looked back down and started writing intently again.
Zac bit back a chuckle. She was lucky that was the worst thing Devon had said. He probably should warn the guys that Cassie was there, though. Not that it would be any guarantee they wouldn’t come out with something even more inappropriate.
“So, we have someone staying on the bus with us,” he said. He felt Cassie’s eyes on him again. “She’s sitting out here with me at the moment.”
“She, huh? Who is this mysterious she?” Beau pasted a fake expression of shock on his face. “Don’t tell me you’ve become so pussy deprived, you’ve actually invited a woman to spend the night on the bus with you.”
