Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Dean
Is This Love
Whitesnake
I’m anxious this morning as I stand outside the bus, made more obvious by the pacing I’ve been wearing a path into the pavement for over the last twenty minutes. After the second show here in NYC, Sadie and Quinn grabbed the train to their parents’ home in Mount Vernon.
Quinn’s able to see her parents all the time, but it had been months since Sadie had been able to visit, and since yesterday was a down day for us, it made sense for her to go see them.
For her at least. For me, pure torture. I realized thirty-six hours without her on this tour, was thirty-five more than I liked.
So, now, I’m waiting like a puppy for its master to come home, because I miss the shit out of her.
My heart soars when I see the Uber she described in her text pull up in the parking lot.
It sinks just a tiny bit when I realize Quinn is still with her.
I assumed she would be staying at her parents, or returning to her own place.
Sadie is in a soft shirt and joggers, hair tied up, a cardboard coffee cup in hand.
The early sun halos her edges like she’s cut from warm light instead of bone and nerves and quiet steel.
She’s talking to Quinn in low, conspiratorial whispers.
Quinn is laughing. And Sadie, God, Sadie looks relaxed.
Happy. My heart does something violent against my ribs at the sight.
I’m done pretending this doesn’t wreck me in the best possible way.
Sadie sees me and does this little half-smirk, half-shy-smile thing that shouldn’t hit me the way it does. I shove my hands in my pockets and do my best to look relaxed as I lean back against the bus.
Quinn, of course, notices immediately. “Oh look,” she observes loud enough for me to hear, “your brooding shadow awaits.”
Sadie nearly chokes on her coffee. I’m learning Quinn has no filter.
“Morning.” I smile at both of them, then lean in close to Sadie, relief swamping me at having her near again.
“Morning,” Sadie chirps soft and warm. “Quinn’s going to join us for the ride to Boston if that’s okay?” Her expression gives nothing away, so I’m not sure if this is good news or bad. “She’s got friends she’s going to visit there for the weekend.”
“Of course, we’ve got plenty of room on the bus.” I snag Sadie’s bag from her grasp using it as an excuse to swipe my hand against hers. “Not sure how Mikey’s gonna feel about it though.” I chuckle in advance of what’s probably about to happen.
I end up sitting across from Mikey and Quinn while Hayden scrolls silently through sports scores and tries to pretend he’s not entertained by the disaster unfolding across from him.
Mikey keeps glancing at Quinn like she’s a bomb that might explode if we go over a bump to hard. Quinn, on the other hand, lounges with her legs crossed, perfectly unbothered, gently tormenting him just by existing.
“So,” she twists so she’s facing Mikey, “how does it feel to be the best part of this band?”
He tries to bumble out a response, his cheeks flushing. “Excuse- I mean- Well, I mean- I am great, but-”
“I’ve heard your drum solo.” She cuts off his failed attempt, chin perched on her fist. “I felt my soul leave my body. It was very spiritual.”
Hayden actually coughs a laugh into his sleeve.
“I— uh— thank you?” Mikey manages, turning the exact shade of a ripe tomato.
Quinn beams. “You’re welcome.”
I lean toward Hayden. “She’s going to ruin him.”
Hayden doesn’t look up. “Yup.”
Somewhere in the middle of Connecticut, Sadie gets up to grab something from her bag. I follow her like a moth with no shame. The bunk hallway is dim, quiet, and blessedly empty.
She turns and nearly walks into me. “Oh!”
I press her against the wall, bracing my hands on either side of her hips. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.” Her breath hitches as she looks over my shoulder. “We’re supposed to be keeping things quiet.”
“I am being quiet.” I dip my head, grazing my lips across her temple. She shivers.
“Dean…”
I kiss her once. It’s a slow, deep, claiming kiss I’ve been thinking about for the last two nights. She melts instantly, fingers tightening in my shirt. “This is dangerous,” she whispers against my mouth.
“So am I,” I mumble back, kissing her again. “But you’re still here.”
She exhales a shaky sound that goes straight to my ribs. I rest my forehead on hers. “This feels too good. Tell me we can stop pretending.”
Her eyes soften. “I’m not pretending.”
“I mean, with them.” I cock my chin toward the front of the bus. “I just want to be able to hold your hand, kiss you whenever I feel like it, have you next to me all the time.”
“Then let’s tell them.” She brushes her lips against mine. “In Boston, when we’re all together.”
Before we can disappear completely into each other, footsteps approach and we spring apart like teenagers caught in a laundry room. Sadie bites her lip to hide a smile. I run a hand through my hair before I follow her out.
About an hour outside of Boston, we park at a truck stop so everyone can stretch their legs and grab food. I’m leaning against the bus with Hayden when Quinn and Mikey walk out of the store.
Quinn has an iced coffee. Mikey has four plastic bags filled with snacks and the expression of a man whose world is collapsing and expanding simultaneously.
“Quinn,” Mikey’s voice is calm, his attempt at acting casual. “I paid for your coffee, because I am not only a grown ass man, I’m a gentleman.”
She peeks at him over her straw. “Michael, you also bought yourself three tubs of gummy worms, two bags of sour patch kids, and a jumbo bag of cheese curls, so I stand firm on my belief that you are a man child.”
“These are essential nutrients for my drummer spirit animal.”
She laughs, shaking her head. “Whatever.”
Mikey visibly glitches. She bumps his shoulder as she passes, and flashes him a smile. “Thanks for the coffee.”
Mikey sways like she hit him with emotional artillery fire.
Hayden mutters, “He’s doomed.”
“Completely,” I agree. And damn if that doesn’t make me grin.
When we climb back on the bus, Sadie sits beside me, close enough for our knees to touch, our shoulders to brush, our fingers to twine beneath a shared blanket like two kids hiding a secret.
She falls asleep against me. My chin rests on her hair.
Everything in me settles. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing or how this works on a tour, especially with the cameras and fans and pressure and chaos.
But I know this, when she leans into me, I don’t want to move.
When she laughs, it fills the leaky holes of my heart.
And when she looks at me, really looks at me, it’s like she sees every part of who I could be, not just who I’ve been.
And for the first time in a very long time, I’m okay with all of it. I want to be that man for her. Not the legend, not the lead guitarist, not the screwup. Just, hers.