21. Off to Dallas
IAN
He’d either given her the fastest fuck against a wall in the history of hookups, or she’d shut him down. Either way, I thought, I would have treated you better than that.
Nicky was sweet and friendly to everyone, making sure all the members of the press had the press-kit link, plying the VIPs with champagne, and keeping Sheree equipped with autographing pens and commemorative programs. But I thought that maybe there was something on Nicky’s mind.
She kept an eye on the door, too, but Archer never reappeared. Had they had a fight? I could only hope.
No, that was uncharitable. I wanted happiness for Archer. And for Nicky. It just sucked if those two happinesses had to intersect.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. Mal reached for his at the same time, and then he and I exchanged an eye roll.
Got my own ride
I’ll meet you at sound check in Dallas
Archer. Blew off the best thing that could have happened to him and picked up some stranger. Again.
I didn’t know why Mal held off telling Nicky until we were back on the bus. Probably didn’t want to hurt her any more than I did. But eventually, the long evening ended, and we made it back to bus eight.
Just the three of us and Charlotte.
“He’s not coming,” I said flatly when Nicky looked for Archer. “He’ll be at sound check.”
“That’s in two days,” she said slowly. “We have a rest day tomorrow.”
“I guess he’s resting?” Mal tried hopefully.
Ken pulled out, and we hit the road for Dallas. I couldn’t read Nicky’s face. “I’m going to change,” she said. “There are a lot of journalists for me to contact in Dallas. If I set up appointments, will he be there?”
I exchanged a look with Mal. “Probably not until after sound check,” I said. Nothing I could do about it. It was the plain truth.
“Oh. Okay.”
She changed into sweats and tucked up in the banquette with her laptop. Mal watched her for a bit, his brow furled in concern. Then he shrugged, smacked my shoulder, and went to bed.
I waited for a long ten minutes to see if she’d speak. I thought about Archer—about how long we’d been friends. About how careless he was with women. About what I wanted with Nicky, and what she wanted. I weighed it all and persuaded myself that I could keep everything aboveboard. Sleep, after all, made me a better band member.
Decision made, I stood.
“I’m exhausted, and I bet you are too,” I said. “Let’s skip the awkward part. Just sleep next to me back there. I’ll keep the nightmares away, and you help me sleep. Okay?”
She wouldn’t look at me, but eventually, she nodded. She slowly closed her laptop and stood. I waited while she gathered her pillow and blanket, and then we lay in the darkness.
And it was awkward as hell.
I wanted to pull her into my arms and kiss her happy again. What she wanted was to be with Archer. There was nothing to say.
But her breathing must have triggered me into sleep eventually because I came aware from oblivion.
But maybe I was dreaming.
Because Nicky was on her side and my arm was around her. She was pressed against me, her lips hot and soft against my neck.
It had to be a dream. She was arching against me, almost as if she wanted my hands on her breasts. I pulled her even closer, and she sighed my name.
“Ian,” she breathed as she brought her long thigh up to press against my rigid cock. I groaned at the sensation.
Which woke her up.
“Holy god!” She sat up next to me, pulling the blanket up to her chest. “Ian! I’m so sorry, I was . . . oh, god. I was dreaming.” She looked at me nervously. “Of—of Archer.”
Sure she was. It wasn’t Archer’s name she’d sighed in her sleep. But she wanted to believe she’d been dreaming of Archer while she rubbed against me.
And this was a watershed moment in my friendship with Archer. Because if I reached out a hand . . . would she fall?
Would Archer forgive me?
Would Nicky?