AllFreeNovel
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30
Sara
Zoeand I arrive at the back door, and when we flash our backstage passes, the security guy lets us in. We weave through the back hallways, and I hold my badge out in front of me.
“Mom,” Zoe hisses at me. “Put the badge down. Be cool.”
I drop the badge. “I’m at a rock concert for a band I couldn’t even name a song of, and I dressed like this.” I gesture down at my clothes. “I look anything but cool.”
Zoe had called my look “PTA meeting” and begged me to change before we left the hotel. I stood my ground. My top is an aubergine tunic that falls below the hip of my jeans that flare slightly over sensible black boots. Zoe’s wearing ripped jean shorts, knee-high stiletto boots Jade bought her while we were in Rome and a black crop top. Chris knows who I am, and there’s no point in trying to hide it.
This past week has been amazing. We did another live session on Thursday, and while I haven’t had the growth on my Patreon that I had the first week, I’m definitely still gaining supporters, and it’s way more than I had before.
I roll my eyes, and we approach the band’s room. The security guard here checks us much more thoroughly, inspecting the badge, our faces, the names on the list before finally opening the door for us.
“Chris!” Zoe squeals and launches herself at him like a long-lost friend. It gives me a bit of time to absorb the room, which is full of people, and brace myself when Chris turns his full attention on me.
And holy shit. This is Chris Rächer in all his glory. He’s laced up in some complicated black ribbon-and-leather top, the omnipresent leather pants, and his full makeup kit.
He’d mentioned that they have makeup artists do this for the band for concerts and big events, and I can see why. Chris’s makeup is flawless and bold, peacock colors flashing at me every time he closes his eyes.
Zoe nudges me, and I stop staring. “Hey,” I say.
Lame.
Chris and I agreed that we would keep our relationship a secret. It would be too big of a thing with Zoe and the rest of the band.
At the same time, though, we didn’t talk about what was next. I just hit sixty days in the Schengen Zone, and I need to figure out what I am going to do about it. I can only spend thirty more days out of the next one hundred and twenty in the Schengen regions.
I had no idea visas were so complicated.
Chris holds out his arms for a hug, and I come in gingerly. “I don’t want to mess up your stage outfit,” I say into his chest. He hasn’t even performed yet, but he smells like sweat and a little like cigarette smoke, which has me wrinkling my nose, disappointment crashing through me.
“In thirty minutes, I’m going to be sweating and disgusting; there’s nothing you can do to ruin this glory,” he pulls away and waves a hand down at his body.
I lean back in and frown. “Did you smoke?”
“No.” At my eyebrow raise, he crosses his heart with his hand. “A lot of people back here smoked, but I didn’t.”
“Okay,” I say, bracing myself to deal with second-hand smoke all night. “Are you doing okay? Without smoking?”
“I have a nicotine patch on my ass.”
Chris glances around at the small group here. Zoe’s talking at Alwin, who just looks amused, nodding along to whatever she’s saying.
Uncomfortable, I adjust the underwire in my bra. Why do these things always feel like a robot’s cupping your boobs? The movement draws Chris’s gaze.
Chris plucks at the shoulder of my top. “Holy shit, are you wearing a real bra?”
I bat his hand away. “Shut up. I look like a dorky mom.”
“With fantastic tits.”
“You’re just saying that because I’m wearing a real bra.”
“No.” He leans in, a wicked gleam in his eyes, and my heart starts to pound. “I’ve been obsessed with your tits from the start. Sports bras, bathing suits, mashed up against my face, wet and slippery . . .” Chris’s voice trails off, and his eyes lose focus. Last night, we’d gotten in the hot tub together, and recalling how Chris cupped and massaged and played with my breasts in the water and knowing that Chris is thinking about it too has my body tightening.
But then Chris seems to remember where we are and that my daughter is here. Distracted, but here.
