Maybe (20 page)

When I wake up, the sun is setting and I’m disoriented and alone. I stretch out on the cushion that I’d been on before I fell asleep and wonder what time it is. My phone is lit up with texts, telling me that they’re already inside and to come in whenever I wake up, but an empty bus is the perfect time to take a shower, and it’s about to be so dark out that I won’t be able to get any decent pictures anyway.

I strip and turn on the water before stretching again to ease the ache in my muscles. When I turn toward the mirror, I freeze. With my arms above my head, my torso is elongated, and there, across my ribcage, is a series of notes drawn in Sharpie.

The sight is unbelievable and beautiful at the same time, but it’s obvious what happened while I slept. He wrote a song for me. On me.

Tyler has left me marked.

Showers are great places to think, to plan, and to scheme. I don’t have any clothes that I want to wear, so I get bold and rummage through Hollis’ things. It hasn’t been easy to have only one other girl on this trip, but at this time I’m thankful she’s close to my size.

The air is crisp when I rush across the parking lot, and I am escorted into the back door, my credentials on display. It’s not a huge area, so it takes me no time at all to find them. And when I do . . .

“Are you wearing my clothes?”

“I didn’t have anything. I figured you wouldn’t mind. Right?” I turn to the side so that she can see where the white shirt raises in the front and drops in the back, exposing a large expanse of my side.

“Nope.
That
I don’t mind.” She’s staring, and her smile is electric. “Jon? I think we should go listen to Fabian.” Her husband follows, but he nods at me like he knows what’s up. I’m sure he does.

Tyler is sitting on one of the worn orange velvet couches, his elbows planted on his knees while he watches me approach.

“Where’s Shawn?”

“Either having sex with Shae or getting high with her. There’s a possibility that he might not show up in time to play. He’s really starting to piss me off.”

“And Cam?”

“There’s a girl here selling tickets. I don’t doubt that there’s a janitor’s closet getting wrecked right now.”

“That’s completely unprofessional.” He knows I’m joking. I’m in front of him now, so he can see what I have on my skin. “Care to explain this?” When he sits in silence I press on. “Didn’t you want your artwork on display? I figure if you’re going to mark your territory, then other people should be able to see it.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Sure it is. I was on the bus with Fabian today. I woke up to this.”

He tilts his head and puts his hands up like he’s busted. “Progress, right?”

I straddle his legs and brush my lips over his jaw. “I already told you that it wasn’t necessary. But it’s sexy as hell, Mace Face.”
His name slips from my mouth with a whisper.

A devious smile is planted on his lips when he pulls back to arch that studded brow. “I’ve been doing it since the first night I stayed with you. I just never put them where you could see.”

I think for a minute, and it starts to make sense. Hollis and Laura. Smudges that couldn’t be explained. “If you wanted to make me yours, you could have done it a year ago back in Austin.”

He places his hands on both sides of my neck, and I can feel him relax when his eyes close. There’s so much noise outside this room, but right here in the space between us, I swear I can hear his heart racing in his chest. Or maybe it’s my own.

“Say you are now.” His lips press gentle and firm against mine while he anchors me to his lap. “Say you will be, and I swear I’ll trust you. Say I can kiss you and touch you, taste you, and wake up to you every morning. It’s not too soon. It’s not anymore.” It sounds so desperate coming from him, and I remember how adamant he was about all this not that long ago, but the way his hands are roaming and squeezing puts everything out of my mind.

I kiss him fiercely, wrapping him in my arms and rocking forward so he’s pinned against the couch. “All of that. Okay? All of it.” It’s true. I would stand backstage and watch him for as long as it took. I’d throw it all away because what I’m being asked to do is not even a blip on my radar when I think about what could be.

His palms slide under my shirt to trace what he wrote before rising higher to brush his thumbs over my nipples. His lips are soft, and his tongue is hot in my mouth when I shiver and moan. “We’re not on the bus. We should take advantage of it.”

If the first time was angry and the second time was slow, this is a frenzy. I’ve barely said the words, and I’m off his lap letting him yank my pants down. I scramble for his, too, and there’s only enough time to shove them to his ankles and leave them bunched up over his shoes. He holds his shirt up with one hand while guiding me forward to straddle his lap again. The shirt I’ve borrowed from his manager hasn’t been discarded either, so his fingers disappear beneath the fabric while I hover over him. He kisses me like his walls are down. Like he can’t get enough. Both palms grip my hips, and when I feel him slip inside, I can’t help the moan that comes out of my mouth.

“Wait. I’m sorry, we didn’t—”

He silences me with his mouth and pushes me down harder, fingers digging into my skin. Tyler leads, and I follow, accepting each deep thrust and kiss he gives me. I take and take until I’m trembling and fisting his hair, bracing myself on his thigh with the other hand.

Tyler cups my chin and tilts my head back so he can run his teeth over my skin, nip at my chin, kiss my throat. His head falls to my chest, and he fills me deeper, gives it harder. My legs are already threatening to give out, but I hold on because we both need this.

The sounds coming from his mouth are like whimpers, and he’s holding me so tight I’m afraid I’ll shatter if he ever lets go. “It feels so good to be inside you. I had no idea.” Each word he says shakes beneath the force of his thrusts. I have to secure my hands against the back of the couch above his head, crying out in short staccato breaths because he’s not showing any sign of slowing down.

“Fuck. Okay, okay.” He inhales sharply and pushes me backward until I’m looking up at him, and he pulls out, hovering when he finishes on my stomach. His eyes are closed tightly, but he’s not angry or upset. He’s so happy. He can’t catch his breath, and he’s trying to wet his lips to speak, but he gasps a laugh.

“Are you okay?” This doesn’t seem like the reaction of a guy who flipped his shit over not having a condom in a hotel room.

“I’m more than okay. Yeah. I had no idea what you’d do to me if we didn’t use anything, but it’s beautiful, Em. It’s so fucking perfect. I can’t believe I didn’t let that happen earlier.” He descends slowly, pulls my left nipple into his mouth, and then shivers all over.

I lie there, still wound tight but taking in everything he’s just said. Before I have a chance to respond, his lips are back on mine. He’s spreading my legs again, and his fingers are where his cock just was, and I’m finding it hard to form any thoughts. He whispers that he wants to see me come and kisses my open mouth while he cradles my head and works me faster until I’m clutching at his neck and digging short fingernails into his skin.

“God, I love the way you sound when you come. I don’t think there’s a better sound in the whole world.” He’s still lingering, and I’m gasping, my body relaxing into the couch cushions as I drift down. “I wasn’t going to leave you pent up like that, but next time I want to be inside you when it happens.” He grins and dips his head to kiss my lips softly. “I should get something to clean you up.” When he goes to stand, he topples a little since his pants are still around his ankles.

I can’t help but laugh, and every fiber of my being is pulsing with heat. He’s dressed again and looking around for something when there’s a knock at the door.

“Five minutes! Just in case you needed a reminder that you’re here to do a concert or whatever.”

I’m terrified that Hollis will open the door and see me naked from the waist down. In her shirt. With the evidence of what we’ve been doing all over my belly. But she doesn’t jiggle the knob, and I’m thankful for it.

He brings me a T-shirt from the merch box and presses it into my hand, turning away so that I can tend to the business of cleaning up. It’s not as good as a shower, but with five minutes before he’s supposed to go on stage, I’ll take it.

Rising on shaky legs, I balance myself against the arm of the couch and quickly pull on my jeans. He’s watching me from the door, waiting to open it. When I reach him, he leans down and kisses me, sweet and slow. His fingers sweep my tousled hair from my neck, and he places a thumb on my pulse point.

“I just wrote the prettiest song being inside you. I don’t regret it for a second.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

From the Private Journal of Tyler Macy

I have a plan.

This thing with Emily is bigger than I would have ever expected it to be.

I want to treat her right and show her how much she means to me.

So I have a plan.

New York.

—M

Chapter Thirty-Three

“Shawn. You have got to get up. We’re here, and everyone is inside.” I touch him with my toe, nudging his limp body. When we couldn’t find him, I was hoping he wouldn’t be here on Shae’s bus, but he is. She’s passed out on the couch while he lies on the floor. The bus is empty save the two of them and the alcohol seeping from their pores.

The beautiful girl with eyeliner smeared across her cheek stirs and stretches.

“Shae, what did you two do last night?” There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to know the answer, but I have to get the specifics if I’m going to be helpful.

She sighs deeply and rolls over to face me. “We hung out. Why?”

“Because Shawn appears to be in a coma,
that’s
why.” I poke him with my finger this time, and he doesn’t respond.

“He’ll be fine. Just let him sleep it off.” The way she says it before she yawns, like it’s no big deal, really pisses me off. It’s clear she has the tolerance of a two hundred pound man, but Shawn . . . I’ve never seen him this bad off.

“He can’t sleep it off, Shae. We’re in Chicago. Everyone is inside. If he doesn’t get his ass up and out the door, then we’re down a band member, and you’ll be announced as a no-show. But if you
really
want to sleep it off—”

“I’m up.” She swings her legs over the seat and crawls over to where Shawn is lying face down. “Come on, baby. Wake up. I have something for you.” She reaches into her pocket and produces a couple of pills. Shawn’s eyes flutter open, and he smiles up at her a little. There’s a half empty bottle of water by his feet, and she grabs it while he struggles to sit up. “Chew it. They work faster that way, okay, baby?” He takes the pills and chases them with the water before lying back down.

Shae gazes up through red-rimmed eyes and dismisses me with her hand. “He’ll be fine in thirty minutes.”

I don’t trust her. I feel like maybe I should call Tyler or Hollis—they’d have better control over this situation than I do. Instead, I leave the bus and go back inside, wondering if I’ve made a bad decision.

Hollis is jogging in my direction, clearly upset. “Did you find him? I swear to God, Emily, if he pulls this shit one more time . . .”

Pulling her closer, I grip her upper arms and lean in to her ear. “Give him thirty minutes, and then we need to discuss what we’re going to do from here.”

Heaviness settles into my shoulders, and I don’t have the heart to say anything right now. They need to perform, and bringing this to anyone’s attention would ruin it. She follows my lead, but I can feel the anger rolling off her. I pull her to my side, and we walk back to the venue. Tyler and Jon are livid, but Cam is sitting on the couch watching a movie on his phone like nothing is wrong.

But there is something wrong. I called it from the start.

We all wait for Shawn to show up. It doesn’t take thirty minutes—it takes forty-five.

When he clears the door, he’s wired for sound. His eyes are too wide, and the smile on his face is too big. He paces and waves his arms excitedly while he talks, but no one says anything. He’s too far gone right now.

It’s the first night I go and watch Shae perform. She’s high as a kite, standing in front of the microphone and swaying off beat. Her voice is throaty, bad habit riddled, and deep. I half-expected that she’d sing soprano, all high ear-piercing vibrato, but she’s got a bit of blues laced between the notes, and I want to like her. I really do. But she’s Yoko’ing this situation.

My thoughts are scattered through Fabian’s set, and by the time the Badger is backstage, I’m sure of the words I want to say to Tyler. Shawn is loud and shaking, though he has a huge smile on his face. Hollis has to be worried, and sure enough, when I lock eyes with her, she’s biting her tongue against saying something.

How do you confront someone before they go onstage? They need these performances, and she’s the manager. Still, she remains quiet.

I don’t have a chance to speak with any of them before Shawn starts to yell. “Let’s do this! Come on. Come on, come on, come on, already!” He’s yelling at the roadies, and they barely give him any attention, finishing what they’re there to do and walking by the now-fidgety drummer.