Insider (Exodus End #1) (14 page)

Eight

In the radio station’s sound booth, Logan tried to pay attention to the interview, but his gaze kept falling on Toni, who was concentrating on recording the interview for her book and jotting notes. She obviously wasn’t nearly as distracted by him as he was by her. Didn’t seem fair.

An elbow to his ribs turned his attention to the host, who was gazing at him expectantly, waiting for an answer. “I’m sorry, what was the question?” Logan asked.

“Are you still participating in freestyle motocross?”

“When I have time,” he said. He almost left it at that, but saw that Toni now had her undivided attention on him and looked interested in what he had to say. “I’ve been jumping and racing bikes since my teen years,” he said. “I still love that adrenaline rush. If the music career hadn’t worked out, I’d probably have had the opportunity to go pro.”

“Much as I’d like to see you do tricks on a dirt bike, I’m not the only one glad the music career did work out,” the host said.

Logan chuckled. “Oh, I’m glad too, but a guy needs something to fall back on.”

“He’s always been the daredevil of the group,” Dare said. “Last time he won a bet, he made us all go skydiving. Not my idea of a good time.”

“You had fun,” Logan said. “Don’t lie.”

“
You
had fun,” Dare insisted. “I dry humped the ground when the horror ended.”

“I thought skydiving was great,” Steve said.

“You don’t have a lick of sense either,” Dare said. “Logan jumps out of planes, Steve scales mountains.”

“What do you do with your free time?” the host asked.

“Relax.”

“Dare likes the water,” Max said. “If he’s not on the beach, he’s in a pool or a hot tub.”

Logan watched Toni scribbling notes like a woman struck by sudden inspiration. She had a huge smile on her face. Logan wondered what was going on in that head of hers.

“Reagan, what do you do in your free time?”

Up until this point, no questions had been directed toward her. She hesitated, probably under the assumption that she wasn’t going to have to participate in the interview. “Uh. My boyfriend?” she blurted.

The guys laughed and she grinned.

“There’s a rumor going around that you’re dating one of the guitarists of Sinners, Trey Mills.”

Reagan chuckled warily. “Ha, yeah, rumors,” she said noncommittally.

When it was obvious that he wasn’t going to get a more concrete answer from Reagan, the host asked, “And what does Max like to do?”

Steve pounded Max on the back. “You’d have to censor his reply.” All the members of the band shared a knowing chuckle, except Max, who glowered at Steve.

Toni stopped writing to stare at Max with her head tilted to one side. Logan waved at her to get her attention back on himself. She wasn’t quite ready for the kinky stuff Max enjoyed. Maybe in a few weeks they’d move on to more adventurous acts, but she was still fairly innocent. He wouldn’t want to push her too fast. Toni lifted a hand of recognition in Logan’s direction, blushing furiously under his obvious interest. She ducked her head, licked her upper lip, and tucked her long hair behind her ears.

Damn, she pushed every one of his lust buttons. And she wasn’t even trying to. Twenty minutes ago, that demure sweetheart had fucked him in the back of a limo on a busy street. He needed to get his act together and treat her better, or she was going to find someone else to teach her things. The very idea of another man touching her had him clinging to his thighs to keep his hands from balling into fists.

Another elbow in his ribs, allowed Logan to catch the tail end of the radio host’s question.

“. . . concert tonight?”

“Oh, yeah. Can’t wait. The fuckers in this town know how to party.” He made a set of devil horns and his rock-on face.

Everyone in the room stared at him as if he’d sprouted purple fur on his eyeballs and then burst out laughing.

“What?” he asked. “What did I say?” He probably shouldn’t have said
fuckers
on public radio, but he was sure some intern with fast reflexes had bleeped it out.

“He asked if you’d heard that a church group was protesting the concert tonight,” Dare said.

Smooth, Logan.
“Don’t you think our fans should party with those effing protesters? Bring them over to the dark side?” Were they buying his attempt to cover up his slip?

His bandmates rolled their eyes at him, but the radio host took a liking to his idea. “KY101 will be there to get in on the action.”

“Free backstage passes to any fan who can get a protester to agree to come backstage with them,” Logan said, knowing he was taking this too far, but hell, he’d already fucked up, might as well make it an epic fail.

Max covered his microphone with one hand. “You’re gonna get someone killed,” he whispered angrily at Logan.

Shit
, Logan thought. There he went acting and not thinking again. “Not by force or gunpoint,” he said into the microphone in front of him, knowing how dedicated some of their fans were and the lengths some of them would go for a backstage pass. “The protester has to legitimately want to come backstage because you convinced them that we’re awesome. And not Satanists.”

“Logan, I’m going to kick you in the teeth if you don’t shut up,” Max whispered harshly.

Logan produced his toothiest grin, knowing Max was all talk.

“You heard it, folks. If you can get a protester to agree to go backstage after the show . . .”

Logan glanced at Butch, who was standing in the corner scowling at the schedule he had clipped to a clipboard. “Before the show,” Logan said. They didn’t need any protestors at their after-party.

“Before the show,” the host echoed.

“At the meet and greet,” Dare said, as if struck by sudden inspiration.

Max nodded slightly, no longer looking like he wanted blood on his hands. Logan’s blood. Logan should have been paying attention to the interview instead of the sexy woman in nerds’ clothing who was grinning again as she wrote notes on a legal pad. If she was amused by him acting impulsively stupid, she’d have no problem being continually entertained. He could only concentrate on one thing at a time, and the woman had his full and undivided attention.

“Thanks for having us,” he heard one of his bandmates say.

Was it over then? That hadn’t taken very long. He would have been better off staying in the limo with Toni for the duration. For more than one reason. After the customary words of appreciation and handshakes with their hosts, Logan scrambled to open the door for Toni and stayed by her side as they were escorted to the elevator. Butch joined the band and Toni in the elevator car. Reagan was holding her security guard’s hand—Logan thought the dude’s name was Ethan, but he wasn’t good with names.

“I’ll catch the next one,” Reagan said. So sweet that she wanted a moment alone with her second boyfriend. Logan wasn’t sure how the woman could date two guys and keep them from killing each other in a jealous rage, but the three of them seemed to have it all worked out. No way Logan would ever let another man touch the woman he loved. Or even lusted. As soon as the elevator doors slid shut, Logan was bombarded with accusations.

“
This
is why we are agreed not to let women on the bus. Exactly this,” Max said. “None of the rest of us have this problem. It’s you. You have the attention span of a goldfish in heat.”

“What in the fuck were you thinking, dude?” Steve asked.

“He wasn’t thinking,” Dare said. “At least not with his brain.”

Logan didn’t mind be called out by his bandmates. He’d fucked up, he owned that. He did mind them busting his balls in front of Toni. Not cool.

“You don’t think it’s a brilliant promotional scheme?” he asked, still trying to play it off as if he wasn’t flying by the seat of his pants.

“Do you?” Butch asked. “The fans are going to be pissed off at those protesters anyway, so you draw further attention to them by having them seek them out and convince them to come backstage?”

“The media will be all over it.”

“He’s right,” Toni said. “Something like that might make national news.”

He could have kissed her. Knowing that would lead to a tight fly, however, he settled for placing a hand on her lower back.

“You expect us to believe that you didn’t come up with that idea just to cover your ass?” Max stared at the ceiling of the elevator car and shook his head. “I can’t wait to hear what Sam has to say about this.”

“We don’t have to tell Sam,” Logan said. He’d faced their manager’s wrath plenty of times in the past. Pissed-off-Sam was not one of his favorite people.

“Logan’s right,” Toni said. “I’m sure this will turn out in your favor and Sam will end up thinking Logan’s idea was brilliant.”

Logan rubbed Toni’s lower back. He definitely wanted to kiss her—and
more
—now. He wasn’t sure how she expected this fiasco to turn in their favor, but he hoped she was right.

The elevator door opened and several flashes went off in their faces. Logan blinked his blinded eyes and instinctively wrapped a protective arm around Toni.

Butch cursed under his breath as he plowed through the pack of photographers and led the band to the limo parked outside. “I said no fucking paparazzi today. Get those fucking cameras out of his face.” Butch growled as he shoved a camera out of Max’s face and pushed the singer into the car.

Once they were all inside, the limo couldn’t leave no matter how much Butch roared in fury. They still had to wait for Reagan, who’d taken a different elevator to the lobby.

Toni cringed as the car rocked back and forth. Hands slapped the sides of the limo. Faces pressed against the glass. Steve flipped them off. Average day on the road. Logan sank back against the seat and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. His lack of sleep was definitely catching up with him.

The noise outside suddenly intensified when the door opened and Reagan dove into the car with her bodyguard in tow.

“I had to bring him with,” Reagan explained. “There was no way he could get me in the limo and then force his way to the other car.”

“It’s fine,” Butch said. “I could probably use some backup.” He lifted the phone receiver and spoke to the driver. “Take us to the venue.”

“I thought we would go back to the bus,” Toni said. “I’d like to rest for a few minutes before the meet and greet. Take a shower. Change clothes. Breathe!”

“The bus will meet us there,” Logan said. “Are you tired?”

“I’ve never been more exhausted.”

“The fun’s just getting started,” Max said. “I can’t even imagine what this meet and greet is going to be like.” He glared at Logan, who was silently praying for a lack of bloodshed between their fans and the protesters.

“Do you think anyone will notice if I skip it?” Dare asked, crossing his arms over his chest and giving off that “go away” vibe he’d perfected years ago.

Hoping to ignore the animosity in the car, Logan wrapped an arm around Toni’s shoulders and tugged her closer. “Why don’t you close your eyes for a moment? I’ve got you.”

“I’m not used to this much excitement,” she said, relaxing against his side, her head against his shoulder. “I’m a reclusive book geek, you know.”

“I read a book once,” Logan said.

“It was called
Fast Sluts, Slow Rides
,” Steve said.

Toni chuckled. “I think I’ve read that one.”

“Did it have a happy ending?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, the kind you pay extra for at a massage parlor,” Toni said.

All the limo occupants laughed. The tension between the bandmates eased. Logan knew they would forgive him sooner or later. It wasn’t as if he fucked up everyone’s life on purpose. He didn’t mean to cause trouble. Things just sort of happened that way for him.

His guilt diminished, Logan relaxed against Toni and closed his eyes. Something about her excited him and soothed him at the same time. He wondered if she’d stay on tour longer if he refused to be cooperative during his part of the interview. Because one thing was clear. He wanted her to stick around.

Nine

Inside the arena, Toni exited the bathroom of the women’s dressing room with a towel around her head. The entire room was filled with flowers and chocolates, stuffed animals and leather apparel. With the exception of the leather, it looked like Valentine’s Day had thrown up in the place. Apparently Reagan had a lot of admirers. She was sitting in her bra and panties on the arm of a sofa with her bare feet on the sofa cushion, tinkering with an electric guitar. She’d strum a few notes, pause, try a few other notes, nod, jot something down on her knee with a pen and go back to strumming.

Toni was just happy to have one of the members of the band to herself. Perhaps she could stage an informal interview. Logan didn’t count. When she was alone with him, the last thing on her mind was asking questions of a nonsexual sort. Technically, Reagan was only a temporary part of the band, but that didn’t mean she didn’t deserve a chapter in the book.

Toni plucked a card from a bouquet of two dozen long-stemmed black roses. Toni had never seen black roses before. They were a bit macabre for her tastes. The card read,
You’re a goddess. I love your guitar work. I hope I get to see you in person tonight. Your devoted fan and fed-up vocalist looking for a new guitarist for his band (hint, hint), Shade.