Chapter 18
18
Hiding in my room the next morning, I am reeling from my encounter with Jack. Seeing his eyes close as he sucked my taste off his fingers is one of the hottest things I have ever witnessed. He played my body like a finely tuned instrument. Years of honing his craft paid off. I clench my thighs, remembering the way the callous on his thumb felt against my clit.
Last night was a fantasy come true. If it wasn’t for the hickey he left behind my ear, I would honestly wonder if it was a dream or not. I guess Jack wanted to leave no question about what we did. Except I have a lot of questions. Namely, why did he want to help me and what does it mean?
I was shocked when he didn’t want me to do anything for him. Was he not as turned on as I was? That fear was mostly remedied a few minutes later when I heard him moan my name from the shower. It still doesn’t tell me if he wants to do it—or more—again .
With no desire to be the girl who asks a guy ‘what they are’ after one sexual encounter, I busy myself getting ready for tonight’s show. Getting shoved in and out of tubs a dozen times is rough on t-shirts, so I decide today is as good a day as any to refold them. It’s too early for volunteers to be here yet, which means I’m basically alone in the empty concourse. It’s both cool and eerie.
Unluckily, I have texts from my father to keep me company.
11:14 AM
Dad
I’m hearing from sources that the boys’ tour is a mess. Sounds as if they may need a new tour manager.
How do you do to you, too, Dad. I guess he is jumping straight to the point today. I don’t know who his source is, but Teri, the tour manager, is both amazing and beloved. He’s been with the Ryders for years. I can’t imagine them wanting to replace him. Eliza on the other hand . . .
I haven’t heard of any issues.
I doubt you’d know what they looked like if you saw them.
Let them know I would be happy to help them out.
I love that he calls it ‘helping them out’ when we both know the premium he would be paid to work with a name as big as theirs. He’s been trying to get in with this label for years but hasn’t had any bites. There are no favors here. I hate that he’s trying to exploit my closeness to the guys further his own career. So much for his faux concern with mine. Since it is easier to pacify him than try to reason. I tell him I will mention his ‘ willingness to jump onboard’ if needed. A sentiment I whisper out loud into the empty concourse as I finish folding t-shirts. Guess no one was here to see that. Oh well.
“You know, if you’re so lonely you need to talk to yourself, I know someone who would happily spend time with you,” a voice says from behind me.
I let out a shriek at the sound. Whipping around, I mentally chastise myself for being jumpy and greet the visitor. “Donny, you scared me.”
“Sorry, beautiful.” He smirks. “What has you working so hard? You know people will buy this shit even if it’s wrinkled. Hell, it could have ‘Ryder Concert’ hand written on it and they would still pay top dollar.”
I bristle at his assessment. Designers put in hours creating these shirts and the tour spent a ton of money printing them. I don’t know how much of the revenue comes from merch sales, but I know it isn’t an insignificant amount.
“What can I say? I take my job seriously.”
Donny steps closer until he has me almost pressed against the merch trailer. “All work and no play makes Ellie a dull girl,” he singsongs. His breath fans against the side of my face. Uncomfortable, I turn until we’re face to face. The movement causes my hair to fall behind my back, exposing the hickey Jack left last night. Donny’s gaze immediately catches it.
“I guess Ellie is having plenty of fun,” he snorts restively, fingers running over the mark. “I didn’t take you as the groupie type. I thought you had more class than that.”
“I’m not a groupie,” I counter, pushing my hand between us, trying to make space, but he doesn’t budge.
“Sure,” he laughs darkly. “Tell me, is it only Jack you’re screwing or do all three brothers get a turn?”
I rear back at the accusation, but that causes my head to smack into the metal trailer. I don’t know what has gotten into Donny, but I don’t like his aggressive attitude. Glancing around, I curse myself for leaving the walkie-talkie on the table and not clipping it to my shorts. I don’t see anyone else around to help defuse the situation. It’s up to me.
“It’s a straightener burn. It’s not from Jack or anyone else,” I lie. “You need to back up.”
“I bet. I gave a lot of girls ‘straightener burns’ in high school. You’re not fooling me. I saw the way he watched you in Dallas. Those boys keep you on a tight leash. Makes sense why now. They don’t wanna share their toy.”
What the fuck? Even if I was screwing the Ryders and their entire band, it would be none of his business and would not give him the right to corner me.
Not heeding my request for space, he pushes even closer until his mouth is practically touching my ear. “I’ll let you in on secret: I’ve never been good with FOMO. I may need to see what all the fuss is about.”
A cold dread washes over me at his insinuation. I’m about to scream for help when my new favorite person comes to my rescue. “Ellie,” Bryce calls from the other side of the trailer, “you’re going to miss lunch.”
Donny backs up before Bryce rounds it, leaving me unbalanced in his wake. He appraises us curiously before nodding his head at me to follow him. Scurrying away from the roadie as fast as I can, I risk a glimpse back at him. His jaw is tense and his demeanor says this is far from over.
What do I do about this? Do tours have HR? It’s his word against mine, but I need to get it on someone’s radar, at least. I’m sure if I ask, they can reassign him somewhere else. I’m even more thankful now that my dad isn’t the tour manager.
I could always tell one of the Ryders. That is a conversation I do not want to have. But if Donny’s going to be throwing around accusations that could hurt their reputations, they need to know. I could tell Eliza, she’s a pit bull. She’s a bitch, but that could work in my favor in this scenario .
When we make it to catering, Bryce gives me a nod and disappears into the masses, too cool to eat with me, apparently. I don’t mind this time, though. I’m not especially hungry after what just happened, but I can’t stand around aimlessly. Sat at an empty table longer than I should, I’m pushing food around my plate when Declan storms into the room. Sensing tension, the room quiets noticeably as his gaze lands on me. He gives me the universal sign for ‘come with me’ and I quickly get up to follow behind him.
Instead of going to the bus or dressing room, Declan leads me to an unused office. As soon as the door closes, he faces me and grits, “What happened?”