Chapter 16
Near Nip Slip! Fans are in love with how Tom 'Axe' Severson saved the day
Rising star Aria Weber almost had a wardrobe malfunction leaving the club with boyfriend Tom Severson.
The pair just began their world tour, Aria opening for The Band, of which Tom is the drummer.
Fans are obsessed with the star-crossed lovers, most recently pap shots of them leaving the club show a moment where Aria's trendy brand top (linked here) nearly fell off her shoulder, likely resulting in a nip slip if it weren't for the very observant and gentlemanly Tom, who corrected Aria's top before she could even notice in a series of adorable photos, exclusive to People in the slideshow below:
"I have been sent like a hundred fan edits of those pictures from Lacy on TikTok,"
I giggled and Tom's chest shook lightly from laughter.
Our smiles were wide that day, the first two shows had been electric, we had spent the past few days partying our asses off, and now we were back on the bus, huddled together in Tom's bunk as we barreled our way south.
My heart kept lightly fluttering as I soaked in Tom's presence.
Part of me was continually registering that I had never been this in love before.
I somehow felt simultaneously both the most relaxed and comfortable and safe I had ever felt, and the most excited, turned on, heart-skip-a-beat frantic desperate enraptured with him.
The way his nose had a tiny bump on the ridge from falling off his horse when he was twelve.
The way the sun had been bleaching his hair to a more distinct blonde since I first met him in the winter.
The way he groaned unknowingly in pleasure when drinking cold water.
I craved the sight of his Adam's apple bobbing as he frequently drained a water bottle in one go.
Always made me want to put that ability to hold his breath to good use in other ways.
I was obsessed with the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled only for me, eyes somehow shining brighter.
I noticed it in every pap shot or public appearance between us, the little facial expressions and focused attention reserved exclusively for me.
Maybe that was why fans were so obsessed, I was sure other people could pick up on it.
Plus my obvious, unabashed swooning anytime he did anything.
I swore my cheeks wore a permanent flush anytime I was around him.
I had to instruct my makeup artists to skip the blush altogether.
Despite the presence of three large, overly flirty other men and the frequent shows, this kind of felt like a honeymoon of sorts for Tom and me. And I couldn't even bring myself to feel insecure about loving it (and him) so much because I knew he was just as obsessed, if not more, than I was.
God, I was lucky.
His hand found its way from my ass all the way to fingering my pussy, the first contact having me squirming against his hard cock pressed into my thigh.
"You're insatiable,"
I smiled down at him, his floppy hair barely out of his eyes and piercing eyes tracking every part of my face and lighting me up internally.
"Says the woman currently dripping and squirming all over my lap,"
his warm Australian tilt making me giggle into his shoulder. He reached between us to free his cock from his boxers while his other hand made quick work pushing my panties far to the side of my pussy. I could pretend I hadn't picked this exact pair for this exact purpose in mind, but that would be a lie.
"Ride me."
His instructions were more a plea than a demand, his need for me made me all the more desperate.
He held his cock to my dripping entrance as I sank down on him, one full inch at a time.
By the time we were done, Lacy had sent me what seemed like a hundred more TikToks of last night's photos, a fact I discovered with Tom still inside me as we caught our breath post-orgasm, my phone lighting up with TikTok notifications from Lacy next to Tom's head. His rumbling laugh at the notifications was far too delicious a feeling with his cock still inside me, distracting us from the endless edits of us for another little while.
"When you two are done fucking, we have pizza,"
Luke's voice pulled me out of the light sleep I had apparently fallen into, still on top of Tom, his eyes fluttering open as well to meet mine. The sex, heat, and rhythmic movement of the bus was truly a perfect cocktail for those ideal summer sleeps. The heat of the air with the coolness of drying sweat, the smell of warm, sun-soaked flesh and linen, soft whispers of weed from the other guys and rumbling engine. The feeling was addictive. Thank God the summer had barely started because I could do this forever.
I would need to get a PT though because lord, sleeping still all wrapped around Tom was not doing good things for my joints. Something popped and a tendon felt very overstretched as I peeled myself off of Tom and threw on some of his clothes to exit the bunk.
"Hi beautiful,"
Luke smiled my way as I emerged into the kitchen, no doubt smelling of sex and looking a mess, but that seemed to be a non-issue with these guys.
"Pepperoni or cheese?"
he asked, grabbing a plate to serve me.
"Pepperoni please,"
I yawned and smiled, curling myself under the light crocheted blanket on the bench. I felt like a cat barely starting to wake after a nap in the summer sun.
Luke handed me the plate and a joint, one of the numerous ashtrays already next to me. Bless that man. I lit up before digging in, Tom emerging from his bed, a similarly rumpled and well-fucked look that I was sure mirrored mine.
Somehow things had felt easy with Luke in the twenty-four hours since our sexcapade. It hadn't happened again, at least not yet. But if anything, it felt like it made my dynamic with Luke snap into place more easily, the underlying tension between us no longer relegated to the unconscious.
It didn't feel like a new crush. It felt like an old friend.
His sense of humor certainly helped.
"Can I offer you a Twinkie?"
Luke said conspicuously as we all sat around eating our pizza.
"Luke!"
I screeched, half laughing, balling up my paper napkin and throwing it at him.
I couldn't help but watch Mickey's reaction. He and Hunter had been in the bedroom during the fated threesome, so I wasn't sure if he knew about it yet.
And we clearly did best with not asking such direct questions of each other.
Mickey's eyes flashed narrow, ever so barely. As if a snake sensing danger. Or prey.
His eyes were quickly, and uncomfortably, meeting mine.
"Luke, eh?"
he said, barely contained emotion in his voice. Something between venom and anguish.
"Relax, lover boy, she got the clear to be fully 'on the bus,'"
Luke said suggestively, meaning obvious.
Mickey's eyebrows shot up, not the type to play it cool like Hunter was next to him. Their expressions moved in perfect sync except Hunter's were the reserved, slithering version of Mickey's painfully authentic ones.
"Assuming she wants to,"
Tom stated the obvious protectively as flashes of desire and some twist of internal storm I was a little scared of flashed across both Mickey's and Hunter's faces.
"Well then,"
Mickey said, as if dismissing the conversation.
But the conversation was clearly not done. Mickey's rhythms were totally off the rest of the evening, hogging the joint and embodying the brooding rockstar perfectly.
When he escaped to the bedroom early, I sighed a breath of relief to be free of his energy.
Which, of course, did not last long either.
I tried to sneak in and out of the bathroom quietly, the door inches from the bedroom door, currently housing a very fussy, presumably very horny Mickey Montgomery.
Trying to head back down the hall, Mickey whipped me around, stealing my breath and tugging me into him.
His lips tasted like everything I had ever hoped. I had imagined what it would be like to kiss Mickey Montgomery since I was eighteen years old. Almost a decade later and it was better than I could have dreamed.
He tasted of the joint and sweat, and the same smell of man he exuded.
I sighed into him, every word out of my brain and stuck in my throat. Just feeling, surrounded by him as he pressed me into the side of the bunks, pulling our barely clothed forms flush, clinging.
I had always imagined I would play it cool if I ever got the chance to kiss Mickey. And how I had imagined it. I wanted to seem almost disinterested, somehow hard to get.
Reality was much closer to totally melting into a pile on the floor. I couldn't get close enough to him. Forgetting our audience entirely, I was in it with him. Everything unsaid over eight years, clashing between our teeth and lips.
"Get a room,"
Luke yelled after some time, startling me back to reality.
Mickey looked crazed, his floppy dark hair messed perfectly from my fingers.
Some part of me knew I needed to stop. Seeing him. Seeing everything I wanted for so long. Looking at me like he had wanted me just as wholly.
I couldn't. It was a recipe for heartache.
Our chests were heaving as our gazes took each other in.
Finally, some force within me rising, I pressed a hand into his chest and lightly pushed.
He immediately backed away, giving me space to walk back to the table with Tom, trying to pretend that didn't just happen.
Tom, to his credit, said nothing.
---
The air conditioning had finally given up completely somewhere outside Phoenix, leaving us all sprawled across the bus in various states of undress and misery. Even with all the windows cracked and the roof vents open, the heat pressed down on us like a weighted blanket made of molten lava.
I'd claimed the kitchen floor, the coolest spot I could find, wearing nothing but Tom's boxers and a sports bra. Luke had abandoned his bunk entirely, stretched out on the bench with a bag of frozen peas pressed to his forehead. Hunter lay motionless in the opposite booth, looking like a beautiful corpse in the dim light filtering through the tinted windows.
Tom emerged from the bedroom looking like he'd been wrestling bears, his hair plastered to his skull with sweat.
"Mickey's locked me out, says he wants alone time,"
he announced to no one in particular, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge and draining half of it in one go.
I caught Hunter's barely contained eye roll from the corner of my gaze.
Luke snorted.
"Maybe he's having an existential crisis about his new leather pants splitting."
"Or maybe,"
I said, pressing my cheek to the blessedly cool linoleum, "he's freaking out because he kissed me and now doesn't know what to do with himself."
The silence that followed was so profound I could hear the engine humming three cars ahead of us.
"Well,"
Luke said finally, "that's one way to address the elephant on the bus."
Tom sat down heavily on the floor next to me, his back against the cabinets.
"Want to talk about it?"
"Not particularly."
I rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling.
"But I guess we should."
"Probably,"
Hunter agreed, finally sitting up. His pale skin was flushed pink from the heat, making his blue eyes look even more piercing than usual.
"Especially since we've got two more months of this."
"Two more months of what?"
Tom asked.
"The heat or the sexual tension?"
"Both,"
Luke and Hunter said in unison, which would have been funny under different circumstances.
I groaned and covered my face with my hands.
"This is such a mess."
"Is it though?"
Tom's voice was carefully neutral.
"I mean, yeah, it's complicated. But is it actually a mess?"
I peeked at him through my fingers.
"Are you serious right now?"
"Dead serious."
He reached over and pulled my hands away from my face, his thumb tracing circles on my palm.
"Look, I love you. That's not changing regardless of what happens with anyone else. And I trust you."
"But—"
"No buts. I trust you, and I trust Luke, and weirdly enough, I even trust Mickey when he's not being a dramatic asshole."
Luke shifted on the bench, the frozen peas sliding off his forehead.
"For what it's worth, I think Tom's right. We're all adults here."
It felt odd to speak like this with Hunter, not just Luke and Tom. I could tell there were things I didn't know about their relationship that had me curious but painfully envious.
Yet I had seen him naked.
I nodded, and the guys let it drop. I needed to learn to keep my mouth shut.
---
I felt Hunter's gaze on me again. His eyes tracked me with a direct hardness, keeping me trapped in his snare.
I pretended to ignore him, flitting into the kitchen to pour myself water and pretend not to be imagining everything I saw the other day.
I couldn't meet Hunter's eyes without seeing him bent over, hard and needy over the very table he sat behind now.
The conversation eventually dissolved into drowsy silence, everyone too drained by the heat. Luke dozed off with his feet hanging off the bench. Tom's breathing grew heavy against my shoulder. Even Mickey's brooding seemed to require too much energy in this temperature.
But Hunter remained unnaturally still, and I could feel his attention like a physical weight.
I shifted carefully, trying not to wake Tom, and caught Hunter's reflection in the darkened window. He wasn't looking at his phone or staring into space like I'd assumed. He was watching me with that same predatory focus that had unnerved me since day one.
There was something different about the way Hunter looked at me compared to the others. Tom's gaze was warm, encompassing, like being wrapped in sunlight. Luke's was playful, almost brotherly despite the flirtation. Mickey's carried too much history, too much pain and want tangled together.
But Hunter looked at me like I was a puzzle he was determined to solve. Like he could see straight through to something I didn't even know I was hiding.
I remembered that moment days ago when I'd accidentally glimpsed him and Mickey together, the raw vulnerability on Hunter's face as Mickey's hands moved over him. The way he'd transformed from that composed, almost cold exterior into something desperate and entirely human.
Now, watching his reflection, I wondered what it would take to crack that composure when his attention was focused entirely on me. The thought sent an uncomfortable flutter through my chest—not the warm butterflies Tom inspired, but something sharper, more dangerous.
Hunter's eyes flicked to mine in the window's reflection, and for a split second, his mask slipped. I saw hunger there, yes, but something else too. Something that looked almost like longing, carefully controlled but present nonetheless.
I forced myself to look away, pressing closer to Tom's sleeping form. But I could still feel Hunter's gaze like a brand against my skin, patient and unrelenting, as if he had all the time in the world to wait for whatever he thought was inevitable between us.
The bus rolled on through the desert night, carrying us all toward something I wasn't sure any of us were prepared for.