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Forty minutes later, he was back on the couch, watching her dress again, but she could tell by the look on his face, something wasn’t right. “What are you thinking?” she said, eyes on him in the mirror. She couldn’t read his expression, and that was puzzling. He was normally so open, so transparent and truthful.
“I’m thinking that’s a waste of good lipstick.”
She laughed. But his mind wasn’t on lipstick.
“Jake.”
“What?”
He sounded grumpy. She turned to face him, hoping it was the filter of the mirror affecting her ability to read him. “What’s wrong.”
He shook his head. “I have to share you again out there.”
She knelt in front of him. “Why is this worrying you now?”
The head shake again and he didn’t want to look at her. “Jake?”
He brought his eyes back to her face. “Sorry. I’m missing you already.”
“Don’t do that.” He couldn’t be this way. He wasn’t meant to make this hard. He knew what this was. He knew forever wasn’t on the menu, wasn’t a dish she’d ever have the ingredients for.
“You’re right.” He hauled her to her feet. “Come on rock star, your adoring public awaits.”
By the time they got to the green room, the party had reached the sloppy stage where too much of everything except edible food was happening. The pizza was cold, the sushi was just leftover grains of rice, but the alcohol flowed.
In one corner, Stu was holding court, telling stories about other tours they’d done. He played straight man to Roley’s funny guy. Ceedee was hanging out with Problem Children, but Jonathan was nowhere to be seen. How was on the sofa with his tongue down the throat of some girl in black leather pants and a lace bustier. Brendan and Jeremy were likewise engaged with women on the prowl, though neither of them had advanced to the stage where buttons were popped. Rand had Harry in one hand and a beer in the other. He looked bleary and happy, surrounded by friends and well-wishers.
Rielle kept hold of Jake while she reconnected with the band and then chatted to some music journalists. She was starving and the one drink she’d had was making her sleepy.
“Let’s go.” She tugged Jake towards the door, but when a dancing couple cut her off, she lost hold of his hand. Laughing at their drunken stumbling, she wound her way through the clump of dancers and turned back to look for Jake. The expression on his face made her catch her breath. He looked worried, his mouth drawn down, his brow furrowed. But then he caught her eye and his lips ticked up in an immediate smile. Before she’d had time to process what she’d seen he was at her side, his arm around her back to shepherd her into the corridor.
“Are you okay?” She stopped him to watch his response.
“You bet.”
She squinted at him. He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “What?”
“You’re sure you’re okay?”
He rattled the keys to the Triumph. “Sure, let’s get out of here.”
Back at the hotel, Rielle ate a twenty-five dollar room service hamburger and loved every bite of it. Sprawled on the plush suede sofa, Jake watched her lick tomato sauce off her fingers. Now she could read him, the expression on his face told her he wondered what else she might like to lick.
Seated at the dining table, she said, “I’m still hungry.”
He laughed, his voice husky. “For someone so little you sure can put away food.”
“Not that sort of hungry.”
He was on his feet and across the room in less time than it took for her to push away from the table. They made love in four rooms and used half a dozen surfaces starting with the dining table, moving to the moonlit balcony and then to the bedroom via the massive double shower.
Neither of them was tired. They were fuelled by the touch of each other’s skin, the sounds of each other’s sighs, and the knowledge that their time together was almost over.
With one Sydney show down and only three to go, the tour had reached its climax, and everyone was already tuned in to the next thing. Sharon had completed all the forward arrangements, airfares and freight for equipment. Stu and Ceedee were going home via a week in Bali, Jeremy and Brendan were detouring to the Great Barrier Reef, and Rand was working out agenda items for meetings set up in LA prior to the start of the European leg of the tour. Even the crew were talking about their next jobs, some of them moving on to the summer festival season and others taking jobs with smaller touring bands.
For Rielle, lying in Jake’s arms was release and relief. A sweetness she knew was only borrowed; a tenderness that made her throat close up and her eyes water. When she thought about the future, she concentrated on what was critical: seeing Jonas, looking at the whites of his eyes to know if he was well again, the music video edit, planned interviews with media in the UK and Germany, and the kick off of the European tour in Spain. That’s all she could afford to think about. She had to stay centred on the business, keep moving forward, because if she thought about the personal, about her life, if she looked in the mirror too closely, or over her shoulder for one minute, she knew she was lost. If she thought about Jake she knew she was already heartbroken.
“You should sleep, baby.” Jake trailed his knuckles up the curve of her neck. She was as reluctant as he was to let the night end. She hooked her leg across his hip and settled on his chest, her chin on her hand.
