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I turn to face him again, and my blood goes hot as we slide together. It’s like my body’s been starved of contact with him for years, not hours. I don’t know how you can miss something you barely had, but here we are.
“What about me?” he returns with a sly smile.
My teeth sink into my lip as I cast a quick glance at the others. Sigh.
I face him again and frame his head with my hands.
“You’re bunking with me tonight,” I whisper, pulling him in for a soft kiss.
I just love the taste of his grin.
17—INTERSTATE 55
LARINDA
Nope. I won’t be spending an incredible night of steamy bliss with my boyfriend, because instead of having the love of my life on my bus and in my bed during the drive to Indianapolis, I have Sage and Coriander.
They haven’t fought this hard since they both wanted the same hair color.
“You know I’m right!” Sage barks as she stomps into the room where Val and I are on the bed trying to work.
“Sagelicious is so much better than Corialicious!” she whines.
“And you can’t both be… licious?” I ask.
She gasps and shrinks back like I hit her. “We can’t have the same handle! I’d think you of all people would understand that.”
I should probably be offended at that remark, but I’m not entirely sure what I was attacked for. Also, I will take this to my grave, but Sage is right. Sagelicious sounds way better than Corialicious.
Val’s amusement is all over his face as he balances the laptop on his stomach, one arm tucked behind his head. I’m sure he too was disappointed that our epic night was crashed by a fight I still don’t fully understand, but he also tolerates “ridiculous” better than anyone I know.
“Don’t you both already have accounts?” I ask.
“Yes, but we’re starting a blog.”
“A blog,” I say skeptically.
“Yep.”
“About what?”
“Touring, silly! Being a famous musician!”
“Okay, but you’re not. You’re just… never mind. If you’re writing a?—”
“Videos. It’s a video blog.”
“Oh. So a vlog.”
“Yes, but it won’t be just videos. We’ll also do clothing or makeup or something.”
“You’re starting an entire brand?”
Val shifts on the bed. Yep, he’s definitely stifling a laugh. I’d glare at him but then I’d have to look at him, which would make me laugh (and mad that I’m not kissing him right now).
“Or makeup. Maybe lighting.”
“Lighting?”
