Chapter 18 Mabel
MABEL
“Do you think something is wrong with her?”
I glance up from my drum kit and into Sav’s frowning face. I could tell she was distracted during sound check. Now she’s staring backstage, but when I follow her gaze, the spot is empty. I know who she’s talking about, though. I don’t even have to guess.
“Maybe she’s homesick.” The suggestion tastes bitter on my tongue.
Two nights ago, in the back of a dark club, Aurora kissed me.
My lips still tingle with the memory. It was a hungry, confident kiss.
The way she touched me, clung to me, as if I was all she needed.
As if she’d been waiting to kiss me her whole life.
I have never been kissed like that, and I can’t get it out of my head.
I can’t get the feel of her off my skin.
I can’t stop analyzing every breath and caress and whimper.
I can’t stop wanting more, and I know how dangerous that is.
Not that it matters, I guess. She won’t even look at me, let alone talk to me.
My schedule is usually jam-packed once shows start, but I was hoping I’d get a moment alone with her since we’re sharing a room.
So far, I’ve had no luck. She’s been gone before I wake up and already asleep when I come to bed.
I clench my fists and breathe deeply through the guilt that’s been steadily building.
I tell myself it’s for the best. It’s safer right now. The distance is a good thing. She’s married. She’s young and obviously confused. I can’t get tangled up in that, especially not right after ending a three-year relationship.
Everything about this is wrong. The timing. The circumstance. All of it, and I don’t want to make things more difficult for either of us. She doesn’t know what she wants. She can’t.
But...
I’m no stranger to being a thrilling experiment for the bi-curious.
Usually, I welcome it. I play along and have a little fun.
But this thing with Aurora? This feels different.
Everything about it feels different, and not just because the stakes are higher.
I’d be lying to myself if I said I wasn’t drawn to her from the beginning.
The attraction and interest have been there since day one, and they’re only getting stronger. If she leaves the tour because of it...
I force down the concern with a rough swallow, then clear my throat.
“How’s she been with Boss?”
“Great. Honestly, I think Brynn might actually be liking the subject, which is a miracle, but after their last session, Aurora just disappeared.” Sav purses her lips, the lines on her forehead deepening. “And she skipped family breakfast.”
I watch Sav as she puzzles through it. I know she’s running through every interaction she’s had with Aurora, analyzing every word and expression.
From the look on her face, she’s not liking whatever conclusion she’s coming to.
Then she finally brings her eyes to mine, and her brows are slanted with concern.
“How much has she told you about her husband?”
“Not much. Why?”
“I don’t know. You seemed irritated when I mentioned bringing him on tour. Thought you knew something.”
I shake my head. “Nope. I know what you know.”
It’s not a lie. Aurora has told me next to nothing. All I know for sure is what she told us in the dressing room. I’m starting to suspect something is wrong, though. I don’t say it out loud, but I don’t have to. I can tell Sav’s thinking the same.
She hums and looks back out into the venue. “Everything seemed to go downhill after that baby conversation. It was just...bizarre. It was bizarre, right? You think I said the wrong thing? Did I upset her?”
My lips twitch with a sad smile. “Is the Sav Loveless second-guessing herself? Loud and cocksure Sav Loveless?”
She flips me off, and I laugh.
“No, Savvy. I don’t think you said the wrong thing. And I don’t think you upset her. I think...”
I trail off and drop my attention to my kit. A huge part of me wants to tell her about the kiss. About the tension that’s been mounting between Aurora and me. The chemistry. The pull.
In any other circumstance, with any other person, Sav would be the first person I told. But right now, I just can’t do it. I can’t move past the feeling that it would be betraying Aurora. Whatever she’s going through...Well, that’s her story to tell.
I sigh and shrug, then give Sav the most honest answer I can without spilling everything.
“I think she’s still figuring out what she wants in life, and that can be hard.”
Sav hums again and nods. We sit in the quiet for a few moments, and I see the second she decides to change the subject. She arches a brow and looks back at me.
“Have you heard from Kat the Cunt?”
I roll my eyes. “It doesn’t matter. It’s over.”
“Yeah, well, it’s been over a few times before, but that didn’t stop her from sending you gifts and late-night I miss you texts and nudes and showing up unannounced, et cetera, et cetera.”
I flare my eyes. Sav’s not wrong. That was always Kat’s MO, and this time it’s been more of the same.
I think back to the text she sent last night.
A mirror selfie wearing a sheer white negligee that I bought her two years ago in France.
I didn’t even let my eyes focus on the photo before I deleted it.
In a few days, a piece of jewelry or a bouquet of flowers will likely show up at the hotel for me.
It’s the same tired playbook. In the past, those things worked.
They filled me with just enough hope, made me feel just loved enough that I’d fall back into her.
Not this time.
“Doesn’t matter what she’s done or is doing, Sav. It’s over for me.”
“I know.”
My brows rise. “You know?”
“You’re different this time.” Sav smirks. “So if Kat keeps bothering you, I know a place that will let us ship her elephant shit anonymously. You know, to help her get the message.”
I huff a laugh. “I’ll let you know.”
I stand from my drums and turn to follow Sav offstage, but my attention falls to Hammond standing in the wings. I know for a fact he’s talked to Aurora. I’ve seen it. Right now, though, he’s alone.
“Hey, I’ll catch you at the lodge. I have to talk to Ham.”
Sav nods. “Sure. I need to meet with Caveat anyway. Label CEO duties and such.”
We part ways once we hit the hall, her toward the dressing room and me straight to Hammond. When I step up to him, he’s frowning and typing furiously on his phone.
“Everything okay?” I ask casually, and he harrumphs.
“I’m about to get a bank manager fired.”
I quirk a brow. “Yeah? What for?”
Hammond sighs, but he doesn’t look up from his phone.
“I set up a new account for Aurora yesterday, had a card overnighted for her, but now she’s been flagged for fraud because these fucking idiots didn’t consider that if I had the card shipped to fucking Australia, then it would be used in Australia despite the California billing address.”
I can’t help but grin. Hammond cussing is a rare occurrence. I almost feel bad for the bank manager. Then my brain latches onto the core of what he said, and I pounce on it.
“Why’d you have to set up a new account for Aurora?”
He finally looks up from his phone and hits me with narrowed, suspicious eyes. No doubt he’s realized he gave me more information than he’d intended while in the throes of angry emailing.
“What do you want, Rossi?”
I shrug. “Just wanted to ask where Aurora is.”
“She’s your roommate.”
“Our schedules haven’t aligned for the last couple of days. I haven’t had a chance to talk to her since the girls’ night, and I wanted to check in.”
Hammond surveys my face, so I smile and bat my eyelashes just to irritate him. To throw him off any other conclusions he might be coming to. Then, thankfully, he returns to his phone. My shoulders sag.
“She was shopping with Jones, but she’s finished. She’s at the lodge.”
“Great. Thanks.”
I turn to leave, but his voice stops me. “When you see her, exchange phone numbers. I don’t want to be arranging your playdates.”
My eyes widen and I feel the color drain from my face, but he doesn’t notice. He’s typing up another angry email, and I’ve been dismissed.
When I get back to the room, I can’t ignore my nerves.
My stomach is flipping over on itself, and I hold my breath as I push open the door.
I’m expecting to see Aurora inside—hoping—but instead, the room is empty.
The only proof that she’d been here at all are the shopping bags sitting atop her made bed.
Curiosity draws me to the bags, and despite being alone, I tiptoe cautiously. When I reach her bed, I hold my breath again, listening to the silence. Checking once more that I’m the only one in the suite.
When I’m certain I won’t get caught, with my heart racing like a child stealing cookies before dinner, I reach my hand into one of the bags and run my fingers over soft, cool fabric. I peer inside and find clothes. I smile.
Despite knowing I shouldn’t, I start pulling the items out of the bags, and each piece makes my smile widen.
Two pairs of jeans. A few pairs of denim shorts.
A pair of corduroy overalls with cute little flower patches on them.
Tank tops. T-shirts. A long, flowy skirt.
A pair of tennis shoes. A pair of sandals.
A few pieces of jewelry. Every item follows a similar style from the other day, when she wore the wide-legged jeans and crocheted top, and it doesn’t escape me that there isn’t a single cotton dress among them.
It feels significant, but I don’t fixate on it.
I turn my attention to the small outdoor patio, and my eyes fall on Aurora’s orchid. It’s sitting on the same little table in the dappled sunlight where it’s been since we got to the lodge. It doesn’t look like Aurora’s moved it at all, so I step out onto the patio and crouch down beside it.