Chapter 8
ELLIE
As soon as I’m in my room, I FaceTime Liv. She answers on the second ring.
“Hey.”
“Oh my God,” I start. “Guess what just happened?” I lay the phone on the bed as I kick my heels off, unzip my black slacks, and yank my blouse over my head.
“What?” she asks. She’s curled up on the couch, a ball of yarn in her hand.
I grab some sleep shorts and a tank top. “I walked on the tour bus and caught Travis getting a blow job.”
She drops the yarn and brings the phone closer to her face. “What?”
“Yep. Right there on the couch. Some girl going to town on him.”
She winces. “Ah. I don’t need the visuals.
Where was everyone? And what is it with these guys and blow jobs?
First Penn, now this.” I grin at the reminder of how my best friend met the love of her life and the lead guitarist of Loose Threads.
He was getting a blowie near the bathrooms of the bar they were playing at. Gave Liv quite the show.
“They must love a good head job,” I muse.
“Hey!”
“Sorry!” I say, and she laughs. “Anyway, the guys were all out getting food, and Calvin asked me to see if Travis wanted anything. I pop on the bus and run right into that. He didn’t even get to finish.
” He didn’t seem that upset. I’d definitely be pouting if I were close to an orgasm and someone showed up and cockblocked me.
“Wow, I feel like I should be shocked, but I’m not. I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner, to be honest. Are you ok?”
I laugh her off. “I’m fine, but I feel bad about ruining his bj.”
“Well, maybe go offer to help him finish,” she says, staring dead into my eyes through the phone.
I blink. Then, at the same time, we both burst into laughter.
“Penn has done a number on you. You’re such a slut now!
” We laugh harder until we’re both struggling to breathe, and my stomach cramps.
“I better get some sleep. I’m going to dye Travis’s hair tomorrow, he’s going pink. I’ll be sure to send you photos.”
“K. Love you.”
BIowing her a kiss, I end the call and set my alarm for six before slipping into the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face.
Packing for the tour was a nightmare. The guys had so much stuff they needed to bring, which is understandable, but that meant I had to pack light.
All my good skin care stuff had to be poured into tiny travel-size bottles. I’ve had to skimp to make it last.
My clothes are an assortment of jumpsuits and slacks, with only a few casual outfits and sleep sets.
I’ve been rotating and mixing and matching, but it’s getting stale.
I love clothes and shoes, and the desire to buy a new outfit in every city has called to me like a siren.
But then I remember, I have to take them to the laundromat every few days and realize I’m better off.
I crawl under the heavy white comforter of the hotel bed, thankful the guys don’t skimp on my room. It’s a basic king bed with a small kitchenette. The carpet is red and outdated, but it’s clean and bed-bug-free. I pull my eye mask down and fall asleep within minutes.
“Hmm…hot pink, pastel, fuchsia,” I muse to no one as I browse the drugstore selection of hair dye.
Travis’s hair is basically white and takes color well.
I tap my lip in thought, then grab a box of cotton candy pink.
I move through the aisles until I find the medicine, then I grab a box of sleep aid in hopes of helping him get some much-needed rest.
I was supposed to do this yesterday, but time got away from me while I was working. I’m against Travis using sleeping pills. I’m afraid he’ll drink with them, but he promised he wouldn’t, so here I am.
I pluck some snacks off the shelf and head to the checkout.
I dump everything on the counter, and the young guy behind the register starts ringing me up.
My eyes wander to the last-minute impulse buys.
There’s a small section of lipstick that I browse quickly, plucking a cherry red from the shelf, and add it to the goodies that I’m charging to Travis’s card.
I snicker to myself, knowing he will be none the wiser.
With my bags in hand, I stroll out of the store and head toward my hotel.
I’m passing by a cute coffee shop when a familiar shape catches my eye.
I stop, turning my head to look, and find Calvin in the alleyway between the coffee shop and a clothing boutique.
He’s talking to a man dressed in baggy jeans and a ripped hoodie.
They’re extremely close, shoulders almost touching.
He’s been acting strange lately. Late-night calls, hushed tones. His eyes are always sliding side to side like he’s waiting for someone to pop out of the bushes.
The shady character pulls something from his pocket, and I step forward, squinting to see, because, well...I’m nosey. The guy drops it into Calvin’s hand, and he slips it into his pocket before I can catch what it is.
The man suddenly turns, locking eyes with me. I stare back, and Calvin glances over his shoulder, lips thinning into an unpleasant line when he spots me. I give him a wide, toothy smile, and the stranger takes off in the other direction.
“Making new friends?” I ask, as Calvin falls into step with me.
“Are you following me?” he questions, tone snarky.
“No.” I hold up the bags. “I was at the store. Why are you being shady?”
He tucks his hands into his khaki pants and shrugs. “I’m not. I was buying some pot.”
“Pot?”
“Yep. Helps me sleep.”
“Well, you don’t need to hide that from me. I don’t care if you smoke.”
“It feels unprofessional. So I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t blab to the guys.”
I scoff. “I am not a blab.” Truthfully, I don’t see an issue with weed, but I know Tanner wouldn’t let Travis bring his stash on the bus, so I can see why Calvin wants to hide it. Not that I approve, but I couldn’t care less what he does. Maybe it’ll loosen that stick up his ass.
Calvin gives me a look, and I flip him my middle finger. “I won’t tell.”
“Hold still,” I grit. “You’re going to end up with a pink neck.”
Travis cranes his head back to grin at me, completely ignoring the command I just gave him. “I’m getting restless. I didn’t realize this was going to take so long.”
I roll my eyes and position him back around. “Do you want it to look good or not?”
He huffs and puffs but stays relatively still as I work the dye through his locks. He has great hair, perfect mohawking hair. It’s thick and luscious and takes product well.
“Ok, we have to leave it on for”—I check the box again—“forty minutes. Then we can rinse.”
“Fine.”
I peel the gloves off and gather up the trash, tying it into a bag.
“What the hell is that smell?” Tanner asks as soon as he strolls onto the bus.
His eyes scan the area, landing on Travis.
I hold my laughter in and quickly sneak a photo.
I hadn’t realized how ridiculous he looked.
This big, six-foot man covered in tattoos and piercings, sitting at a table too small for his wide body, with a towel draped over his shoulders and a hair cap on.
Without hesitation, I send the photo to Liv, sighing.
Even looking silly, he’s still hot as hell.
“You couldn’t do that anywhere else? We’re never going to get that smell off this bus,” Tanner goes on.
“Oh, piss off,” Travis says. “The windows are open. It’s not that bad.”
I dump the bag of hair supplies in the trash can, then pull the bag out.
I consider myself pretty fearless in general, but Tanner’s wrath is not something I want to step in.
He looks more clean-cut than the others, with his short brown hair, neatly trimmed beard, and glasses—people really do call him the Clark Kent lookalike.
But he has an edge to him. A fuck around and find out vibe.
“I’ll take that,” Liam says, grabbing the bag from me.
“Thank you,” I tell him, watching as he carries it off the bus, behind the venue we’re parked in front of.
“Ok, I’m ordering lunch,” Calvin informs us, and the guys start shouting their orders at him. Everyone mostly does their own thing when it comes to lunch, but since we’re all together right now, it’s easier if everyone agrees on one place.
I stand by, unsure if I should chime in with my order or not, but Calvin makes the call for me, completely ignoring me and getting Liam’s order when he climbs back on the bus.
I sit down at the table, pulling out my phone. I can order myself something, it’s not a big deal. But sometimes I feel like I’m part of this little family, then other times, Calvin sticks his nose in and makes me an outsider. Even though I’ve known the guys longer than him.
“Don’t forget Ellie,” Travis tells Calvin.
My eyes flick up, meeting Calvin’s muddy brown ones. He looks annoyed as he stares at me, waiting. I don’t even know where he’s ordering from.
“Hurry up, I don’t have all day,” he snips.
Travis turns around to face him. “You have nothing else to do but be our bitch boy until…” He makes a show of finding the small clock hanging on the wall. “This fucking tour ends.”
I bite back my smile, watching Calvin’s face morph into embarrassment that he quickly brushes away. I don’t need Travis fighting my battles, and I’m not sure when he even started, but I’ll let him knock Calvin down a few pegs. He could use it.
“I’ll have whatever he’s having.” I nod across the table to Travis.
“Great,” Calvin says with a tight smile.
Once the timer on my phone goes off, I rinse Travis’s hair in the tiny bathroom. He had to get on his knees, and he was still too tall to get his head low enough for me to reach. The tops of my toes ache from standing on them for the last ten minutes.
Watching the last bit of color swirl down the drain, I scrub the stains, making sure not to leave any proof behind for Tanner to find. Travis shakes his head, showering me with water from his hair.
“Hey!” I shriek, but he does it again, grinning at me as specks of water dot my face and arms. I grab the towel hanging on the hook, intending to swat him playfully, but my wrist flicks a little harder than I meant to, and the towel whips across his chest. He jumps, eyes going wide.
“I’m sorry!” I say, backing away as much as I can in this small room.
He rubs the spot on his chest. “That wasn’t nice, May.”
“I didn’t mean it.”
“Seems like you did.” He inches toward me. “Give me the towel.”
My hands fly up in defense, and I shake my head, laughing nervously. He curls his fingers, demanding. “I really didn’t mean to,” I repeat, but he reaches out, snatching the towel and rolling it tight. “Travis…” I warn.
From the shit-eating grin on his face, I know he’s not letting me off the hook.
I spin, ready to make a run for it, but he hooks an arm around my waist, dragging me back into him.
We slam against the porcelain sink. He grunts, taken off guard, and the towel falls to the floor.
He starts tickling me relentlessly, knowing how freaking ticklish I am.
I kick and squirm, laughing as I try to escape, but his hold is strong.
“Stop,” I wheeze, pressing my ass against him, attempting to create distance. Then he freezes, dropping his hand and straightening his spine.
I’m about to ask about the sudden change when I feel something poke my ass cheek. Travis clears his throat but makes no move to step away. “Sorry,” he whispers, his breath brushing across my neck.
I consider playing dumb, but he’d see right through me. I shrug, feeling his hand that’s still curled around my waist slowly start to fall, skimming the exposed skin where my shirt lifted up during our battle.
“It’s fine,” I say, fighting the urge to shiver from his touch.
It’s been a while since I’ve enjoyed a man’s hands on me.
I miss it. It’s my love language—physical touch, intimacy, even words of affirmation.
I want it all. Not the love part, I don’t need all of that.
I’ve never been one to tie myself down. The one time I attached myself to a man, he was the wrong man.
I promised myself I wouldn’t go through all that again.
But I love having someone to share my body with, and Travis knows mine so well.
It’s why I proposed that we only sleep together back when we were fooling around.
What’s the point of exhausting myself with other people, when he could please me better than anyone I’ve ever met?
“I—”
He’s cut off by a pounding on the door. “Hurry up! Some of us have to piss!” Calvin calls from the other side. I jump away, afraid that somehow he has suddenly gained X-ray vision and can see through the door.
“You’re all set,” I tell Travis. “All you have to do is blow-dry and style.”
He swipes the towel off the floor, dumping it into the laundry basket in the corner, which reminds me, I’ll need to find a laundromat this week. I’m running out of clean underwear.
“Thanks.” He opens the door for me.
Calvin stands on the other side, face scrunched in annoyance. It’s a permanent look these days. “Jesus, what took you so long in there?” His eyes dart between Travis and me suspiciously.
“What the fuck does it look like?” Travis points to his newly pink hair. “Aren’t you potty trained by now?”
A giggle slips from my throat, and Calvin jerks his head my way. I roll my lips, trying to hide my amusement, and slide past them. I have actual work I need to do today.