Chapter 30 - Roxie
Roxie
We walked out of the thrift shop casually, like we were trying to pretend we hadn’t done anything wrong. Neither of us looked at the other; we paused at the crosswalk, waited for the light to change, then crossed the street.
Only when we reached the other side did Cash start laughing. Which caused me to finally lose control and devolve into a fit of giggles.
His fingers found mine, and we held hands as we walked back in the direction of our hotel.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” he said.
“Tell me.”
“I’m not sure I know, either,” he replied. “Since the first few shows. That’s when I started thinking about it, I guess.”
“Wow. And here I thought you liked me for my non-sexual contributions to the band.”
“You’re an attractive woman. It would be impossible for me not to notice. I’m only a man.”
I squeezed his hand and said, “I’m just teasing you. It’s not like this is the first time I’ve thought about it, either.”
“Oh? When was the first time?”
“The show in Austin. When you opened for Rainknife.”
Cash frowned over at me. “That long?”
“You were hot! Wearing a tight T-shirt and prowling around stage, plucking your bass with your long fingers. You had a stage presence that was immediately noticeable.”
He smiled as we walked along. “You don’t know how much that compliment means to me. Most people don’t notice the bass player. Especially in a band like ours, where we have Riot front-and-center for the audience to drool at.”
“Didn’t you say you liked being out of the spotlight?”
“I still want to be noticed,” Cash replied. “I still want people to hear the bassline and appreciate it. To appreciate me as a performer.”
“Well, I appreciated you from the moment I first saw you. And I get what you’re saying. As an artist, I want people to mostly focus on my work rather than me. But I still want some recognition!”
“Meanwhile, guys like Riot need to be the center of attention or they deflate like a sad balloon.” Suddenly Cash stopped in his tracks. “Shit! Wait here, I’ll be right back.”
I stared in confusion as he ran back the way we’d just come, disappearing from sight around a building. A gust of wind came swirling through downtown Chicago, stirring my hair. I pulled my new leather jacket around myself tighter. That purchase was already paying off.
When Cash returned, he held up a plastic bag. “I forgot Riot’s medicine. It was still in the changing room where I dropped it.”
I covered my mouth to hide my laugh. “Yikes. Would’ve been embarrassing if we returned to the hotel and had to explain why we were empty handed.”
“No kidding.” His fingers found mine again and we continued on.
But the pharmacy bag reminded me of Riot, which reminded me that my situation with the band had just become a lot more complicated.
Now I had slept with two of them.
I needed to tell Riot. That was a certainty I couldn’t deny. It wasn’t like we were exclusive or anything, but honesty was the best policy in my experience. Nothing could be gained by hiding this from the lead singer of the band.
“You’re probably freaking out about Riot,” Cash said.
I gave a start. “How’d you know?”
“Because you’re squeezing my fingers so tight I’m starting to lose feeling.”
“Oh. Sorry. I’m not exactly freaking out, but I’m definitely thinking about what to say to him.”
“If it makes you feel any better, we’ve already discussed it,” Cash said casually.
“Really?”
“Sure. Believe it or not, this isn’t the first time he and I have… slept with the same woman.”
“Are you talking about Violet, or some other woman?”
Cash tripped his own foot and stumbled for a second. “How’d you know about that?”
“Violet told me.”
Cash chuckled and scratched the back of his neck with his free hand. “She’s awfully open about that. Not that we’re not, but…”
“But it’s not something you tell everyone you’ve just met?” I finished for him.
“Right. It’s one of those things that people are either super cool with, or really weird about. And you never know which someone will be until it’s too late. How much did she say?”
“Just that the four of you were having hot orgies when your band first started.”
He groaned. “Violet exaggerates.”
“So the four of you weren’t having group sex?”
“I mean… yeah, we were,” he admitted. “But I wouldn’t call them orgies. We all had sex with Vi, but…”
“But you made sure never to touch each other, because you’re manly men who never do anything even a little homoerotic.”
“I wouldn’t go that far. Milo likes to squeeze my ass after two drinks.” Cash shook his head. “But yes. I’m trying to be very clear that we are all straight. Me, Riot, and Milo, I mean. Violet’s very not straight. Now. Back then, she loved having sex with men.”
“You’re rambling. You sound embarrassed.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry. It’s not very often that I talk about this with anyone, let alone the woman I just had sex with.”
I squeezed his hand, then let go and squeezed his butt. “Nothing to be embarrassed about. Thank you for being precise about the kind of relationship you had with Violet. I’m honestly surprised you guys all still get along together after that.”
“Me too,” he admitted. “Obviously it helped that she dumped all three of us at the same time, rather than choosing one of us over the others. And it didn’t really feel like being dumped because she discovered she liked women more. She was dumping all men, not just the three of us.”
“I can see how that would be easier to stomach,” I said. “But before that, when you guys were all hooking up together. You never felt jealous about Riot and Milo? It didn’t bother you if Vi was with them without you?”
He smiled at the memory. “I know it may be hard to believe. But no. There wasn’t any jealousy. I don’t know why. Maybe because she was sleeping with my two best friends rather than some random stranger. But it just worked. And while it lasted? It was amazing.”
I thought about that as we continued through downtown Chicago hand-in-hand like the lovers that we were.
We passed a deli on the way home and picked up some soup for Riot. When we walked into the hotel lobby, I instinctively let go of Cash’s hand and put some space between us. He didn’t comment on that, but he looked sad that our contact had ended.
“I’ll deliver these to Riot,” I said, taking the bags of medicine and soup from Cash. “That way you don’t get sick. Just in case.”
“Probably a smart idea. Although at least I can still perform if I’m sick, since I don’t have to sing.”
We lingered there in front of each other. Neither of us wanted to part, but didn’t know what to say.
Finally, Cash cupped my head in both of his hands and gave me a firm and deliberate kiss. “This was great. Let’s do it again.”
“Yeah,” I said, smiling. “And next time, I don’t want either of us to be quiet.”
Cash gave me the extra key to Riot’s room and I took the elevator up to his floor. I scanned the key at the door, opened it a crack, and then called inside: “I’m here with supplies. If you don’t want me to come inside, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
A wordless groan drifted from inside the room.
I found Riot curled in a ball on top of the sheets in bed. He was wearing only his boxers, his tattooed body shivering with fever.
“Why aren’t you all bundled up?” I demanded.
“I. Was. Too hot,” he gritted out. “Fever broke. Now back.”
His skin was scalding to the touch as I helped him get back under the covers and propped up against the headboard.
Then I emptied the bags onto the table. “We have DayQuil, NyQuil, and three different flavors of cough drops. And soup! We weren’t sure what to get you, so we bought chicken noodle, potato, and cheddar broccoli. ”
“Chicken noodle,” he said, closing his eyes for a moment. “You’re amazing. What’s in the third bag?”
“Clothes I bought at a thrift shop. Cash said I wasn’t rock and roll enough for the tour.” I gave a little twirl. “This leather jacket was only twenty bucks.”
“Cash has a good eye for fashion,” Riot said slowly. His eyes opened and found me again. “You look good in it.”
I tossed it over a chair and began preparing the soup.
“You don’t have to stay,” he said. “You probably don’t want to see me like this. I’m not as sexy as I am on stage.”
“I disagree. You’re sexy no matter what you’re doing.” I handed him a container of soup and a spoon. “But you are definitely a mess right now.”
He laughed at that, then fell into a fit of coughing.
“So sexy,” I teased while crawling under the covers next to him with the potato soup.
Riot inhaled the steam coming from his soup and sighed. “I promise to fuck you properly when I’m better. Even if we don’t have a hotel room by then. I’ll kick everyone out of the tour bus and make the whole thing shake.”
“I can’t wait,” I said, excited at the prospect.
But then my excitement was replaced with guilt. We slurped our soup in silence, Riot pausing to cough or blow his nose every few sips.
“You’re awfully quiet,” he said.
“I’m just enjoying my soup.”
I could feel his sideways glance. “You haven’t taken a bite yet. Just wondering what’s on your mind. I feel like I know you well enough to tell that something is off.”
I put down my soup and took a deep breath. I knew the best thing to do was just to spit it out, so I clung to that certainty and said, “Cash and I slept together.”
He blinked at me in surprise. “That was not what I expected.”
“I don’t know what we are.” I pointed back and forth between Riot and myself. “But I thought I should tell you immediately.”
“Did you sleep together, or did you have sex?” he clarified.
“Sex. It, uh, kind of happened when we went out to get medicine for you. Like, an hour ago.”
Riot chuckled and ate another bite of soup. “I have to admit. I didn’t expect that.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t plan it or anything, it just sort of—”
“What I mean,” he interrupted, “is that I didn’t expect that to happen so quickly. Cash is the kind of guy who takes a long time to consider an action before doing it. I’m surprised he didn’t wait several more weeks before mustering the courage to make a move. He must really like you.”
“I… really? That’s what surprises you? You’re not, like, mad?”
He put down his soup on the bedside table and smiled at me.
“Why the fuck would I be mad? I don’t own you.
We haven’t put any labels to whatever this is.
” He mimicked my gesture from earlier, pointing back and forth between the two of us.
“We’re just having fun, doing whatever feels good.
When the tour is over we can figure out where we’re at and what we both want.
But until then? We’re a band and we’re touring. We’re supposed to have fun.”
“Yeah?” I asked, still shocked by his reaction—or lack thereof.
“Yeah.” He laced his fingers into mine and squeezed them. “And baby, when I’m no longer sick? Maybe we can have some fun with Cash. Treat you the way you deserve to be treated. I can think of some fun combinations…”
He smiled suggestively, but then had to turn away as he erupted in a fit of coughing. After a few seconds, he slid out of bed and went to the bathroom to blow his nose.
So much for the sexy moment we were sharing.
“I’m going to let you get some rest by yourself,” I said.
“I don’t blame you for leaving,” he said, face red from coughing. “Thanks for the soup. You’re pretty fucking great, you know that?”
“I’ll take your word for it. Rest up.”
I blew him a kiss, then left with my container of soup.
Out in the hall, I thought about what he had said. How he was totally fine with me sleeping with Cash.
And the combinations he thinks we can do.
Was he really suggesting what I thought he was? It sent a sexy shiver up my legs just thinking about it. A threesome with Riot and Cash…
I was starting to fantasize about that when I rounded a corner and crashed right into Milo.
I staggered for a moment, the ceiling spinning as I lost my balance. But Milo’s hand snapped out like a cobra, grabbing my arm and keeping me from falling on my ass.
But my to-go container of soup flew from my hands, hit the wall, and exploded.
The momentum of Milo grabbing my arm caused me to fall against his chest. I stood there a moment, steadied by the tall drummer, his hand still holding my arm while the other one draped gently over my back.
“Woah now,” he said. “Hold your horses, Rox.”
“Shit. Sorry.” The fabric against my cheek was soft, and I pulled away and saw that he was wearing a polo shirt rather than one of the band T-shirts he normally had on. “What are you wearing? You look nice.”
“Laundry day. It’s, uh, the only shirt I have left.” He glanced at the wall. “Oh damn. You made a fucking mess.”
White soup covered a section of the wall larger than a doorway. The container rested on the floor, an expanding pool of liquid spreading in all directions.
“Damnit.”
“I got you.” Without hesitation, he stripped the polo shirt and began using it as a rag to scrape the soup off the wall. I stared at his lean, muscular form as he worked.
“We could just call the front desk and tell them what happened. I’m sure they have a mop.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he said with a nervous laugh. “I guess I panicked. Thought the Soup Police would come take us to Soup Jail.”
I laughed. “I’m the only one who would go to soup jail. You would probably take a Soup Plea Deal.”
“And rat you out? Never.” He flashed his teeth in a smirk.
“Where were you headed? To check on Riot?”
He got up, looked at his drenched polo, then tossed it on the ground. “I was actually coming to see you. I was, uh, going to ask you out.”
I gawked at him.
“On a date,” he added.