Chapter 12
"Mickey from The Band is all of us third-wheeling with our way-too-in-love friends," I groaned at the headline Katie had sent to my email.
I couldn't help but check my phone the next morning, alone in the linen cloud of Tom's bed while he tended to the horses.
In the internet's defense, the pictures were hilarious.
I hadn't noticed in the moment, but Mickey was frowning at his phone, drinking, and even giving us side-eye as Tom and I looked all cuddled up and lovey-dovey.
In my defense, Tom is amazing and Mickey is the worst, so.
.. Luckily, there wasn't any issue with the memes either, at least according to Katie.
If anything, it was good press for us all—she was collaborating with Olympus to get it to stick as a meme format.
"Drinks next week to celebrate?" signed Katie's email.
I quickly texted her "Thursday night? Tom's place?
" "Yes plz, I wanna snoop so bad." "Oh my God, Katie!
!" "Hahahha you can't blame me!!! It's for PR purposes" "Last night the internet fell in love with Aria, who is Tom 'Axe' Severson's girlfriend?
" Another article landed in my inbox, this time from People.
"Hahahha not sure how I feel about being referred to as Tom's girlfriend, but I suppose that's inevitable.
God, this is all so weird!" I texted Katie.
"Get used to it, cutie! Your music is blowing up already!
Check your monthly listeners." I coordinated with Tom to have the crew over on Thursday to celebrate everything.
We left for tour in under a week, and we needed to let loose before it was nothing but business meetings on a cramped bus and show after show.
I had been well disabused of any concepts of a glamorous tour.
If anything, it sounded like power naps, physical labor, and a lot of pizza.
I just prayed we could smoke on the bus.
So the party was a good idea. I still hadn't gotten any one-on-one time with Mickey either, and we were about to be living on a tiny bus together for three months.
Not that I wanted to spend time with him at the party, but I realized it was stupid we hadn't even been in a room together for more than five minutes, outside of the awards show.
The call went out to everyone coming on tour, and before we knew it, Tom's place was packed on a Thursday night.
My backup dancers, The Band's crew, and all the musicians filled Tom's living room as alcohol flowed and music poured out of the speakers.
If there was one thing artists could do, it was party.
The first round of tequila shots hit hard.
I felt warmth spread through my veins and a light giggle flowing through me.
Tom kept me pressed against his side almost constantly as the night began.
I kept feeling his hard cock press into my ass whenever we started to dance or shifted position.
I loved feeling so wanted. The lights dimmed and music turned more debauched.
I was suddenly struck by how perfect Tom's place was for hosting a party.
The room was almost hazy, lights low, barely enough to see in the kitchen for drinks and joints.
It was a small maze of bodies, increasingly packed together and moving sensually.
Of course the playlist was partially my creation, so a few shots in and a few puffs off a joint, I was desperate to dance.
I dragged Tom away from the backup guitarist he was talking to.
Not that he was complaining—his large hands gripped my hips, beginning to move with the beat.
The dancing was energetic, sweaty, my ass pressed into his hips unabashedly.
Of course some singing too, lyrics too fun not to belt along with.
I eventually realized we had created a small inner circle with Luke, Mickey, and Hunter.
I opened my eyes mid-song to find Mickey dancing right in front of me, his gaze drinking in my movements.
Tom's arms were still securely around me, moving over my body as he pleased, our rhythm entirely in sync.
But Mickey was moving with us too, close enough for our knees to brush at moments, his breath hot with tequila, his all-too-familiar scent of sweat and pure *him*, something warm and spicy.
Mick's smell and the booze had me totally subsumed by memories of dancing with him in college, our favorite pastime.
And just like in college, my boyfriend was right behind me, an obvious separation between us.
The boyfriend in question may have changed (particularly in quality), but nonetheless, there was a familiar flavor to the whole thing.
It only made me dance harder, press more fully back into Tom.
His cock hadn't been soft all night; I didn't know how he was maintaining enough blood flow to his brain to keep rhythm.
I was totally in the flow, not a thought in my head.
The nostalgia mixed with the thrilling newness of the venture we were about to embark upon.
At some point, a few shots later, I found my arm wrapping around Luke's neck as I danced between him and Tom.
I caught Mickey's nostrils flare as he turned and murmured something to Hunter.
I didn't feel Hunter's attention often. Aloof didn't seem right to describe him, he was something much harsher.
A painful distance between us, one I felt could be bridged with intensity at any moment, for better or worse.
Nonetheless, his eyes met mine in that moment, piercing ten layers deep, through the booze, shooting lightning down my spine.
Frozen under his gaze, I watched him smirk before turning back to say something to Mickey, then winking at me.
I turned back to Luke, dancing as though nothing had happened, though I felt rattled.
Luke's hands drifted to my waist, keeping it chaste but nonetheless getting me hot.
I guess none of us were pretending we weren't three very attractive individuals pressed together in a haze of music and tequila.
Regardless, I was soon pulled off to the bathroom with Tom for a quickie before a last round of shots and ushering everyone out to their Ubers.