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Griff cracks a wild grin. “Perfect. Let me grab another beer from our first blessed Queen Callie, and I’ll entertain your fucked up brain for a while.”
I can’t help but give a low chuckle. These two are unlike anyone I’ve met.
“Told you they’re a lot,” Hail mutters at my side. “We tolerate them only because if we dropped them, I’m certain they would end up outside our bedroom windows with baseball bats. Run away and I’ll find you vibes for sure. And maybe they have talent or something.”
Liam reaches the tee box and snorts. “Malek broke into my house once because he was out of milk.”
Snapping around, Malek points his club at Liam. “Hey, what was I supposed to do? Captain Crunch with crunch berries is worth a police call.”
“Normal people go to the store, Malek,” Liam grumbles back. “Police should be the last of your worries. You’re lucky I didn’t break your neck.”
We finish up the last hole without injury. Liam’s the only one that kept track of his score. I smile as I catch him pocketing the scorecard as memorabilia. Then he slings his arm over Layla’s shoulders, cutting for the parking lot where the tour bus has just parked.
Crew members slide into the rental cars, and I follow Hail awkwardly onto their bus, soon to discover that my bag’s already been moved to the top bunk in the back.
“Shouldn’t I be on a different bus?” I ask, scratching at the back of my neck. “Like for the crew?”
“Nah, this is good.” Hail gives me a devious smile.
I try to take up as little space on the couch as possible, but Hail plops down right next to me. His head finds a resting place on my shoulder, and I tense up. He may think he feels a certain way about me, but being bi-curious doesn’t necessarily mean he wants to claim a relationship with me in front of his bandmates.
His soft snores come surprisingly fast. I don’t have the heart to move him from where he’s leaned up against me. Griff and Malek are too engaged in a video game to take notice, and Liam’s in the back bedroom with his female friend.
I stay awake through most of the drive to Nashville, fighting off the rising guilt of this normalcy and how nice it feels to belong somewhere, even if it’s temporary.
Drifting in and out of focus as the bus hums along the pitch-black open highway, I look down at Hail’s head in my lap. My heart stutters as I study him and wonder how lucky I am that I got to meet him.
God, there has to be a timeline to this. I cannot fuck up his life, too.
I let my fingers trace over his straight brows and long lashes. Then I map the curve of his mouth and the strong line of his square jaw and the shell of his ear, broken up by piercings.
My hand drops from his face when Liam materialises from the back of the bus, shirtless and wearing black cargo trousers that hug his powerful thighs. He’s absolutely ripped, his body belonging to someone better suited to the ring than the stage.
Though my heart is racing, Liam doesn’t even blink twice at us as he strides over to the fridge and tugs it open. “Need something?”
“Uh…” I lick my lips nervously. “Water would be great. Thanks.”
He holds a bottle out for me, then cracks his own bottle open and downs it in one go. He dips his head to each side, releasing audible pops. “Fuck. I’m tired of touring.”
I stare up at him in awe. Okay, so maybe not MMA bound. He has a presence that belongs on screen. It’s not a thing that can be faked. He had to have been born with this strong, silent confidence.
Liam leans against the counter, his gaze falling on Hail. “I’m glad he’s found someone that makes him smile.”
Risking judgment, I twirl a lock of Hail’s golden hair around a finger. “Is he not usually this happy?”
Liam tilts his head, long hair spilling down his torso. “It’s rare to see him down, but I know he’s struggling with my decision to leave the band. Add that to his loneliness since his family made him feel less for his life choices and his last relationship ending badly.”
I find it hard to swallow. “What would they think… about…”
Us. I let the question fade. It’s something I shouldn’t ask. There is no us. There will never be an us. Still, I want to know, for Hail’s sake. For his future, when he finds his soulmate.
Liam scratches at his chin. “It would be the equivalent of tossing an angry beehive inside the window of an occupied house. Lots of screaming and cussing.”
“Ah.” I swallow, grimacing. “Do they keep in touch?”
“He talks with his twin sister every now and then to check in, but she’s pretty busy with her DPT program and internship.”
I try to imagine Hail with a sister, and it’s easy to visualise the two of them, probably both fair-haired and tan, arms slung over each other and sporting broad smiles.
