Chapter 29 #2
“That was incredible,” I breathe out. Ashton grabs my hand as we look for signs to point us to the backstage area.
“I’m glad you liked it,” he yells over the commotion. He looks a little pale.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I thought I almost lost you back there.”
“I’m fine,” I assure him.
Once we get to the security checkpoint off to the side of the stage, Ashton lets go of my hand.
I look down at where he dropped it and lift my eyebrow, but he’s looking straight ahead.
I show the security guard our passes, and he checks with the guy next to him who looks at a roster of some sort.
He nods, and the first guy waves at us to follow him.
He guides us through a dimly lit hallway.
We pass by several guys hauling equipment and some girls giggling off to the side.
Finally, we get to a door with a piece of ripped notebook paper that says “Noble Rot/Guests Only” in all caps taped to it.
The security guard knocks on the door, and a tall guy with long black hair tied back into a man bun opens it.
I recognize him as the drummer, but I don’t know his name.
“Guests of Ryder’s,” Security Guy says. Man Bun grits his teeth and I think he’s going to tell us to get fucked, but then he moves out of the way to let us through.
I’m prepared for anything as we walk through the door.
I’m expecting it to be like Declan’s party times a hundred, but it’s actually pretty tame.
Ryder is sitting on a couch with a beer in his hand, talking to another member of the band, the bassist maybe?
I don’t know, he looks a lot like the other guitarist. I can never tell them apart.
Man Bun sits at a table next to a woman with long red hair who reminds me a little of Skylar.
The man with the goatee who gave us the passes earlier is on the phone, pacing back and forth and intermittently yelling at whoever is on the other end.
Other than the red-haired woman, there doesn’t seem to be anyone else here who isn’t in the band or working for them.
When Ryder notices us, he stands up and walks over. “You made it,” he says, speaking directly to me and completely ignoring Ashton.
“Couldn’t pass up an opportunity to meet my favorite band,” I say.
“Shit, you like us more than Black Flag?” His eyes fall to my shirt. “Hey guys, she likes us more than Black Flag.”
Man Bun shakes his head, and the bassist, or whoever Ryder was talking to before, hops up from his seat and shoves his hand out toward me. “Always willing to meet my biggest fan,” he says, flashing his white teeth, which contrast with his tan skin and pink hair. I take his hand and shake it.
“This is Skid,” Ryder says, slapping him in the abs with the back of his hand. “The pissy asshole over there is Adam.” He points to Man Bun. “And Pony is…well, doing what ponies do.”
Skid snorts. “Didn’t we say no more fucking right after shows? We fuck before and then we debrief after. That is what you said, Ry.”
Ryder rolls his eyes. “Yeah, that’s what I said.
” He steps away from Skid, walking over to a table filled with every drink you can imagine—sodas, hard seltzers, beer, wine, bottles of tequila.
“Help yourself, by the way,” Ryder gestures to the table, and Ashton immediately grabs two bottles of water and hands one to me.
He’s been acting super weird ever since we left the concert.
First, he’s holding my hand, then he drops it like it’s on fire, and now he’s making sure I don’t take alcohol from these guys.
“So how is it fair that Pony is getting laid right now and you have a threesome showing up at our door?” Skid’s voice interrupts my thoughts, and Ashton spits out the water he just sipped.
“Smooth,” Ryder remarks, dropping his head into his hand.
“What?” Skid looks genuinely confused.
Ashton shifts his feet uncomfortably as I bite back a smile.
“Well, now that this moron put it so bluntly, you guys up for some fun?” Ryder flashes us a smile, his lip ring glistening under the ceiling lights.
Ashton’s entire demeanor suddenly shifts, his deep amber eyes pinning Ryder with a death glare.
His nostrils are flared, lips flat. He lets out a low, throaty chuckle, tucking his chin to his chest before he looks back up, his smile completely gone.
I’ve only ever seen this side of him once—when Craig was threatening me.
He takes a single step forward, just enough to get into Ryder’s space.
“I don’t share.”
Ryder runs his tongue along his lip ring, completely unfazed. “No? That’s too bad.”
I hear Skid cackling in the background, but I don’t pay much attention to it. I’m too livid at the conversation taking place before me. The one in which two men are talking about me like I’m not even here.
“Hey Ryder,” I say sweetly. “Is there a more private area around here?” Ashton’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. He probably thinks I want to go through with the threesome, or maybe even hook up with Ryder alone, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.
“It seems I need to teach my man here a little lesson,” I add in a condescending tone.
He wants to assert ownership? I’ll embarrass his ass right back.
Skid’s mouth hangs open, Adam looks completely uninterested, and his girlfriend gives me a knowing smile.
I can tell she’s seen a thing or two hanging out with these guys.
Skid nearly trips over his feet in my periphery as he rushes over to Ryder, who tips his lips up into a grin.
“Of course,” he says. He starts to lead me out, and Skid tries to follow, but Ryder slaps his hand out to hold him back.
I put my mine on Ashton’s back, gently guiding him forward, and to my surprise, he lets me.
We follow Ryder to another door further down the hall that’s marked “Dressing Area.” There’s a paper taped to it with his name scribbled on the front.
He unlocks it and motions for us to go in.
“I’ll leave you to it,” he says, placing the key on the counter. Probably to assure us we will be alone. He might stand outside and listen, but I don’t really care. “Bring me the key when you’re done,” he says, biting his lip ring again, and then he’s gone.
“Allie,” Ashton starts, but I hold up my finger.
“Do toys talk?”