Chapter 6
I was having the time of my life. I couldn’t remember ever being so happy.
And it was all because of Ben. He stayed at my side the whole day.
We sang along to Never Gone’s anthems. He’d watched me twirl and we grinded with Careless Company’s dirty song set.
And then we slow danced on the beach to some of Alex Graham’s love songs.
It was the best day.
I looked up at Ben’s face as we swayed on the beach with Alex Graham crooning in the background.
Was love at first sight really a thing?
Did we have any chance at making this last more than one weekend?
And should I even be thinking about that?
Suddenly I wasn’t capable of higher thinking.
He looked so mesmerized—by me. His eyes sparkled, and he had this tender, kinda all-in expression on his face.
Like he was completely into me. I caught my breath, and the next thing I knew, Ben ducked down, and he kissed me.
My arms were wrapped around the back of his neck, and all I could do was hold on as I lost myself in the moment.
His lips were so pillowy soft, and he was so tender as he kissed me.
Until he wasn’t.
It didn’t take more than a minute for our kiss to turn hot and needy. An ache burned inside me that had me arching toward Ben, eager to get whatever I could from him. It’d been so long since I’d lost myself. Since I didn’t worry about anything except for what was happening in the moment.
And this was quickly becoming the best moment of my life so far.
Ben really knew what he was doing with those lips of his. And when his tongue joined the party, I lost all ability to even think let alone process my surroundings.
It took at least a minute or two for me to realize the hooting and shouting I heard wasn’t because of Alex Graham.
“Yeah, get it, man!”
“She’s so fucking primed!”
“Holy shit! Is that Reuben Bello?”
“Lucky bastard.”
Ben pulled away with a curse. Then his arms came around my shoulders, and Roscoe was there, ushering us away from the cheering beach crowd.
And for the umpteenth time, Roscoe bitched. “…wouldn’t have happened in VIP.”
I rolled my eyes, and our pace eased as we left most of the crowd behind us. Craning my neck, I looked over the people around us. “Did someone say Reuben Bello was here?”
Ben paused, then gave me a weird look. “I didn’t think you were a fan. Didn’t you say something about hating rap?”
“I wouldn’t use the word hate . I just like…less angry music. But still, it would be cool to see him. Is he performing this weekend?”
Roscoe coughed and turned away. Ben rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not sure,” Ben finally said.
“Huh, you’re not a fan either, I take it?”
Roscoe coughed again, only louder this time.
I sent him a concerned look. “Do you need something to drink? I think there’s a water station over there.”
Roscoe waved a hand.
“How about we escape somewhere a little more private?” Ben suggested, after turning away from Roscoe’s third coughing fit. “I have a buddy with a trailer set up nearby. He won’t be here until tomorrow, so he won’t mind if we borrow it. And it’s nowhere near the VIP area.”
Roscoe coughed some more.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked again.
Ben walked over to thump Roscoe on the back a few times—not gently. Then after a whispered conversation, Ben returned to me. “He’s fine. So, trailer?”
“Sure.” I didn’t even have to think about it. And judging by Ben’s sparkling eyes, he was happy with my agreement.
He grabbed my hand, and we made our way through the streaming throngs of people.
“So is your friend camping out here tomorrow?” I asked as the crowd thinned, and we approached an area full of equipment and metal fencing. Not the campground area I’d assumed we’d been heading toward.
“Not exactly,” Ben muttered.
We waited for Roscoe to have a conversation with the security guards at the gate.
Their eyes flicked to Ben then to me then back to Ben.
Both guys’ eyes widened. But they kept their stoic expressions as they opened the gate for us.
I guess they knew who the agents and producers were.
Or they’d been impressed by whatever Roscoe had told them.
Now I really felt bad that I hadn’t recognized Ben. Apparently he was a big name.
Ben’s arm came around me as we passed through the gate, and Ben exchanged fist-bumps with the guards with his free hand. It was all kinda bizarre.
But I forgot about it as we turned into a parking lot and were surrounded by huge buses.
They were a mix of white, black, silver.
Some had logos, but most were blank of any signage.
They lined the parking lot in neat rows with small gaps for people to dodge through.
Only there weren’t that many people around.
The place was practically a ghost town but for Roscoe, Ben, and me winding our way through them.
So weird.
Two rows later, Roscoe stopped in front of a huge white bus that looked like all the others. He unlocked the door with a set of keys, then gestured us to go ahead.
“Call me if you step foot outside,” Roscoe muttered at Ben as we passed by. “I mean it.”
“Okay, okay,” Ben replied. “Calm down. Sheesh.”
“Ben,” Roscoe said warningly.
Ben turned and they had a whispered conversation I couldn’t hear—mostly because I was too far away, but also because I’d walked into the bus and was too busy gawking at my surroundings.
This was about as far away from camping as you could get.
It was immaculate. The whole bus was decorated in tones of gray with gray and white streaked wood-like flooring.
The kitchen cabinets on the far wall matched the floor exactly, and the double-door silver refrigerator blended in seamlessly.
The bus was set up with a lounging area in the front just past the driver’s compartment.
There was a white leather recliner on one side and a miniscule wood-toned gray booth opposite with gray plush cushions.
Behind the tiny lounge section was the kitchenette, then a hallway with a door on the left and a closet area I guessed, with a door at the end of the small hallway opposite me.
The bedroom, I assumed.
I stared at that door for a second as the ramification of coming here slapped me in the face.
I’d never had a one-night stand before. In my twenty-two years, I’d been with exactly two guys—the first had been my high school boyfriend, and we’d been together for three years, and the second had been last summer with Charlie, a waiter at the diner who’d been working on his college summer break.
Charlie had been solace, an escape, while I’d been so caught up with my dad’s treatment.
He’d been so sweet and tender with me, holding me when I cried after Dad’s appointments, making love to me with a tenderness I hadn’t known was possible.
But then he went back to school in the fall over three hours away, and we petered out.
And in the year since, I’d lost myself in romance novels and tv shows. Just marking time in rent payments to Lydia.
So to say I was out of my element standing in some rock star’s tour bus would be an understatement.
What the hell was I doing here?
This was a mistake.
I’d opened my mouth to say as much to Ben when he walked past me to the fridge.
“I think there are some drinks in the fridge. You like soda or flavored water? There’s some gin and vodka in the freezer.
And there should be some tequila somewhere if you’re feeling like drinking.
” He turned with one hand on the still open fridge door and gave me a once over.
“Actually, maybe alcohol isn’t a good bet. You looked freaked.”
My eyes widened. He could tell? I thought I had a better poker face than that. And then I realized he’d taken off his hat and sunglasses, and I was finally seeing his eyes for the first time.
He had beautiful, hawk-like, golden brown eyes that went perfectly with his tanned skin and the dark, dark brown hair he had up in some manbun thing.
His hair was shaved close on the sides but so long on the top that he needed to tie it up.
I’d never been one to go for the manbun look, but on Ben, it was crazy hot.
And those eyes! So sparkly and intelligent looking. Like he knew every thought I was thinking. Deep. Watching.
And which were now giving me a concerned look. “Caffeine or water?”
“Caffeine with gin, actually.” I smiled. Something about Ben being able to read me comforted me. Like this was where I needed to be. “Coke or Pepsi kinda caffeine if you have it.”
“I do.” Ben pulled a few things out of the fridge. “You sure about the gin? I might be able to find some rum somewhere.”
“Ooh. Even better.”
“Two rum and cokes coming right up.”
Ben rummaged through the tiny cabinets next to the fridge, and I turned to look over our surroundings again.
“So whose bus is this? I don’t remember you saying.”
Thump
I jerked back to where Ben was rubbing the top of his head and scowling. “Are you okay?”
“What? Yeah. Just didn’t expect to get attacked by the cabinet. Uh, one shot or two?”
“One.” I shook my head as I watched Ben rub his. “I’m a total lightweight, and we haven’t eaten in hours.”
“I think I can find some snacks. Or we can send Roscoe out for food if you want something more substantial.” Ben poured a splash of rum from a white bottle into the glasses before handing me one.
“Sláinte.” He clinked his glass against mine then drank deeply. I watched, spellbound, as he swallowed and swallowed until his glass was empty.
“Wow.” I paused and took a sip of my drink to mark his toast then winced as the astringent tang of alcohol punched me in the face. I wasn’t exactly a big drinker.
Unlike Ben, apparently, I noted as he poured himself another round. I warily watched the liquor go into his cup. “Maybe food’s not a bad idea. What do you have?”