Chapter 10 - Roxie
Roxie
I wasn’t sure what had happened to Riot. One minute, I was chatting with him backstage while we walked to the dressing room.
The next minute, he was gone. And Milo’s excuse—and the stare the other bandmates gave him—wasn’t very convincing.
Where did he go?
It wasn’t my business. But I was still curious.
We made small talk in the dressing room, then headed out the back door to the loading dock. I expected throngs of adoring fans to be waiting out there, but it was actually pretty quiet.
“I found a cool spot,” Violet said while holding out her phone. “Three blocks this way.”
The dive bar was crowded and loud. A lot of the patrons looked like they had come straight from the concert, but none of them recognized Milo or Cash. Violet might have stood out more with her pink hair, but she was wearing a beanie, so only a few strands stuck out.
We ordered drinks and found a table to sit at.
“I’m kind of disappointed we’re not being swarmed by fans,” Milo said.
“It’s because Riot’s not here,” Violet explained. “Everyone recognizes him, but the rest of us fly under the radar.”
Cash smiled. “I like the anonymity. It’s the best of both worlds. Famous on stage, peace and quiet the rest of the time.”
“That might change after this tour,” I said. “The four of you might become a lot more famous by Christmas.”
Milo clinked his beer against mine. “Cheers to that.”
I stayed quiet and listened while the three of them chatted about the show and the setlist. Cash wanted to swap out a few songs, but Violet insisted we wait at least three shows before making any changes.
Milo announced that he wanted more drum solos in the next show, but Cash and Violet ignored him.
I got the impression that was something Milo demanded after every show.
After two drinks, we closed out our tab and walked back to the tour bus.
“This isn’t the crazy rock and roll lifestyle I expected,” I told them. “I thought we’d be partying until three in the morning.”
“It’s early in the tour,” Cash said. “We might get progressively more crazy after a few more shows.”
“I can guarantee it!” Milo said, throwing an arm around my shoulder and squeezing me close for a brief moment.
“Are we hitting the road tonight?” I asked.
“Eww,” Violet said, while Milo blurted out, “Fuck no.”
“We’re staying put until morning,” Cash explained. “The next show is in three days in Fort Worth, so we’re not in a rush. We’ll probably leave around noon. Or whenever we wake up and feel like it.”
Back on the tour bus, I changed into pajamas and claimed one of the bunks. Violet was sprawled out on the larger bed, watching YouTube videos on an iPad.
“I don’t share,” she said when she noticed me watching. “Not because I don’t want to. I love a good cuddle. But Dana is jealous as hell.”
“And she’s been cool as hell about the band thing,” Milo added. “We don’t want to piss her off.”
“Because her dad provided the tour bus?” I asked.
“Exactly!” Milo replied.
“But also because we don’t want to piss off my partner,” Violet snapped. “Happy wife, happy life.”
“I thought you hated calling her your wife,” Milo said.
“It was necessary for the rhyme.”
I slid into the bunk and stretched out my legs. It was more comfortable than I expected, and I felt my entire body relax after a long day of new experiences.
I still couldn’t believe this was my life for the next three months. It felt like a dream that I would wake from at any moment.
I was beginning to drift to sleep when Riot returned.
The lights were off except for the glow of Violet’s iPad, but from my vantage in the bunk I could see halfway up the bus.
Riot stripped off his shirt, revealing a back that was covered in muscles and tattoos.
He pulled out a duffel bag and took his time changing into fresh clothes.
When he stripped off his jeans, I knew I should look away or close the privacy curtain. But I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He was so outrageously sexy, even while wearing only a pair of boxers.
He stepped into some sweatpants and a T-shirt, then turned in my direction. I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep as he stopped in front of my bunk, then climbed up into the one above me.
“Riot?” I whispered.
“Roxie.”
“Where’d you go?” I asked. “After the show.”
Over on the bed, Violet shot a glare in my direction like I was breaking some unspoken rule. Silence stretched in the bus. Three seconds. Five. Ten.
“Nowhere,” Riot finally said.
I wanted to ask more, but I was afraid of making Riot angry. There was a tension in his voice that I couldn’t quite place. Plus, Violet was still pointedly glaring at me.
I nodded to let her know that I got the message, then pulled the privacy curtain closed.
But I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about Riot’s captivating performance tonight, and the intoxicating scent of him that had filled my nose the moment he climbed into his bunk. I could hear him shifting above me, the mattress creaking every time he rolled over.
Eventually I did fall asleep, and my dreams were filled with none other than the lead singer of Cherry Midnight. Riot was on stage, practically making love to the microphone in front of the adoring fans. I was one of them; I was down in the front row, just like the show in Austin.
And then he gestured to me. Inviting me up on stage. I hopped the barrier and climbed the steps until I was standing next to him. Riot smiled, then turned and sang the rest of the song to me. It was a song I didn’t recognize, a slow ballad that didn’t seem like Cherry Midnight’s style.
But I was utterly captivated by Riot.
And then, when the song was over and the fans were cheering, Riot grabbed a handful of my shirt and tugged me toward him.
Our lips locked together automatically, electricity and lust pinging between us.
He felt and tasted better than I ever could have imagined.
The crowd barely registered to us as he pulled me closer, hooking an arm around my waist, deepening the kiss…
“Hey. Muse,” Violet’s voice woke me up.
“Yeah?” I groaned.
“I ought to call you sleeping beauty. Just wanted to warn you that Cash is getting antsy about traffic. We’re gonna hit the road. Keep sleeping, if you want, but it might get bumpy.”
“Thanks. I’m getting up.” I rubbed my eyes with a fist and crawled out of my bunk as the bus engine rumbled to life. The other bunks and bed were empty; I was the last one awake.
“Why are we leaving so early?” I asked while joining the rest of the band up near the front.
“Milo wants to get brunch in Fort Worth,” Violet replied.
“Brunch?” I blinked. “Not exactly the rock and roll lifestyle I expected.”
“It’s not,” Violet said. “What an astute observation.”
“You haven’t even tried it!” Milo complained. “Do you know how many calories I burn playing the drums for two hours? I’m starving. I need a brunch amount of food. Pancakes, eggs, bacon, toast…”
“We’ll stop at the first Waffle House we see once we’re out of Houston.”
“Waffle House sucks. I want to go to a real sit-down brunch place. Somewhere with mimosas.”
“Sleep well?” Riot asked me.
His voice vibrated through my skin and into my bones, instantly waking me up better than coffee ever could. I tried to play it cool, like Riot was just a friendly neighbor and not a sinfully-sexy rock star who was currently staring very intently at me.
“Slept great!” I lied. “The bunks aren’t so bad.”
“Told you!” Milo said. “They’re great.”
“The answer is still no,” Cash said calmly from the driver’s seat.
“Oh come on.”
“I’m not giving you my bed privileges,” Cash said. It sounded like they were reigniting an old argument.
Violet rolled her eyes and clapped me on the arm. “Ignore these fools. You want some Pop-Tarts? I’ve got a box I hide away.”
“You said you didn’t have any!” Milo complained.
“They’re women’s Pop-Tarts. They were all out of men’s,” Violet replied.
Milo squinted suspiciously at her. “You made that up.”
“Nothing gets by him,” Violet told me.
“I don’t want an entire Pop-Tart pack to myself… but I’ll split one with you,” I suggested.
Violet beamed. “I’m gonna love having a girlfriend on this tour.”
“Have fun braiding each other’s hair,” Milo teased as we walked away.
But when I glanced over my shoulder, I caught Riot watching me.