Chapter 15
"How's it going, Doctor?"
Erin, over at the side of the stage setting her things down, turned toward the bright, feminine voice. In the couple of seconds it took her to spin around, her quick mind connected the voice to the journalist she'd met at the last concert.
"Hey," Erin said, eyeing her with mild suspicion.
"Oh, no, relax—" Lexie Farhall's lips stretched into an amused smile that pulled at Erin's too. "I'm not going to ask you anything about Mia. I just came to say hi. No recorder."
The journalist raised both hands to prove it, and Erin nodded.
"You remember my name?" Lexie asked, arching an eyebrow.
Erin picked up on it right away. The girl's stance—one foot in front of the other, thumbs hooked in the pockets of her jeans, shoulders lifted and rolled back—and that silky tone.
She was flirting. The other day Erin had gotten the feeling Lexie was staring a little too long and hadn't wanted to make anything of it, but now she was sure: this woman was interested in her.
"Lexie, I think," Erin replied.
The journalist raised both eyebrows and gave one slow nod of pure satisfaction.
"Erin Dooley," Lexie added, holding her gaze.
"You looked me up?"
The doctor crossed her arms and leaned a shoulder against a column while crew members moved back and forth behind them.
"Maybe a little," Lexie admitted.
"And did you find anything interesting?"
Erin cleared her throat when she realized she was playing along.
"Not much, honestly. But that in itself is pretty interesting."
"Why?" Erin asked.
"Because I'm guessing you're not seeing anyone."
Confirmed, one hundred percent: Lexie Farhall was hitting on her.
"I don't think I have time for that right now—" The journalist's smile reappeared on her soft-pink lips.
"Great, me neither. Touring doesn't leave much room for anything serious, but it does leave room for fun with interesting women."
Erin blinked, caught off guard by how direct she was—because Lexie had an angelic face that gave nothing away, and yet she was almost as shameless as Mia.
"Sorry, I've—"
"No, it's fine," Erin cut in. "Don't worry about it."
"Good," Lexie murmured. "I'll find you later?"
"Sure," the doctor said, watching her walk off and wondering what the hell had just happened.
"Making friends, Dooley?" Mia appeared from behind her, and Erin spun so fast she nearly made herself dizzy.
"Maybe," she answered, still a little thrown. "How are you feeling? Have you had enough water?"
Erin took her wrist without asking.
"A liter and a half, and I've peed three times—in case you want to log that," Mia offered.
The doctor glanced up for a second. Mia's blue eyes were fixed on her, loaded with something close to curiosity.
Today had been less tense. Mia had made an effort to keep her distance without turning everything awkward; besides, she had a show tonight and needed to stay calm, and fights with Erin threw her off too much to risk another one that'd leave her distracted the rest of the day.
"Pulse is perfect," the doctor announced, releasing her hand.
"No surprise there—I've spent a day and a half doing absolutely nothing. Just so you know, I've been bored out of my mind because of you."
"I'm sorry, but it's necessary—"
"Yeah, I know. It's fine." Mia shrugged. "I accept that I have to die of boredom to actually feel okay."
"Something like that. Go rehearse—they're waiting for you." Erin's tone was soft, almost the one she used when Mia wasn't feeling well, and for a moment the singer felt a small shiver run through her.
She held Erin's eyes for a beat before nodding and turning to climb onto the stage, and that look left the doctor completely off-balance—because it felt like Mia had seen straight through her, like she'd spoken with her eyes and said everything Erin wouldn't let her say out loud.
Erin exhaled sharply and dragged a hand through her hair, unsettled.
Mia was a complete enigma to her. She was convinced it was just ego—that Mia Wilder was frustrated she couldn't sleep with her, and that was why she looked at her that way, why she got bold when she couldn't control her mouth and angry when Erin pulled back.
But then there were moments like this one, when Mia's expression was something else entirely—the real one, not the one she threw up as a shield against the world.
When she looked at her like that, Erin doubted herself, and she was no longer sure that what Mia wanted from her was just to get her into bed.
"Wilder," she said suddenly.
Mia turned at the small staircase at the side of the stage.
"If you notice any symptoms—"
The singer let out a low, mocking huff, and Erin gave her a spontaneous smile that nearly made her trip.
After the sound check and a forty-minute break—during which the doctor took Mia's vitals again and ran through a battery of questions to make sure she was okay—the Boston concert began, and everything went off without a hitch.
Mia performed with a raw, aggressive energy, as if she were pouring everything that burned inside her onto the stage, everything she couldn't get out any other way.
The crowd was ecstatic, roaring along with her on every song.
Around the middle of the show, she started one of the ballads and turned toward the side of the stage where Erin stood.
The doctor wasn't entirely sure whether Mia was actually looking at her or just working the performance—glancing to one side to seem more melancholy—but a current ran through her that stopped her cold for a few seconds, and she cursed herself, because she didn't understand her own body or mind, which wouldn't stop sending her contradictory signals she couldn't make sense of.
For the next few minutes, she couldn't look away. She wasn't watching her as a patient, or even as a performer; she was watching her as a person—just Mia, with her overwhelming energy and her hypnotic smiles and that magnetism that pulled everyone in. Everyone except her. Or so she told herself.
When the show ended, the singer came down from the side of the stage—sweaty, exhausted, and buzzing the way she always was after a concert.
"What did you think, Dooley?" she asked, still catching her breath as Erin pressed two fingers to her neck to find her pulse.
"You did well," Erin said quietly.
"Just well?" Mia was glowing, and her lashes fluttered as she blinked slowly a couple of times, trapping the air in Erin's lungs.
"Maybe it was spectacular. But I'm not entirely sure."
Mia laughed and swiped a palm across her face to push her hair back.
The sweat had plastered damp strands across her forehead in a mess, and Erin had to fight the urge to reach over and tuck them back behind her ears.
Her arm hung in the air, and the fingers at Mia's neck stayed there two seconds longer than they should have—the time it took the doctor to come back to herself—and Mia swallowed hard, because she'd caught all of it, and it drove her crazy.
In moments like this she was sure Erin wanted her too, at least a little, and it frustrated her that she held back like this—that she insisted on denying what she felt, as if Mia wasn't enough for her.
"I think there are a lot of things that make you second-guess yourself, Dooley. Not just that."
Erin looked up, not quite understanding what she meant. There was no sarcasm in Mia's voice, no irony, no trace of anger—and that threw her, because she didn't know how to read it.
"I'm going to shower. See you tomorrow at the hotel."
Mia walked off without waiting for an answer, and Erin opened her mouth to tell her she wanted to check her pulse again in half an hour, once her heart rate had come down, but the singer moved fast and she didn't get the chance to say a word.
"I am drinking two glasses of whatever they've got the second I'm done here," Nell said as Erin passed. "You in, Doctor?"
"Maybe," Erin smiled, confirming once again that the whole crew—herself included—was riding a massive adrenaline high after every show.
She went to the medical room, gathered her things, and sat down to write up Mia's vitals alongside the rest of the day's notes.
She drank some water and checked her phone, where she found a message from Barry explaining that he was on standby at a soccer game and bored without her, because his new partner was uptight. Erin laughed and texted back.
Erin Dooley
It's not like I was the life of the party either.
The check marks turned blue almost instantly, and Barry started typing.
Barry
Maybe not, but you're funny without trying to be, Dooley. Dry and weird, but it works for me.
She smiled again, replied with an emoji, and slid her phone into her side pocket.
She checked the time and saw fifteen minutes had passed—enough for Mia's heart rate to have settled—so she stepped out into the hallway and headed straight for her dressing room.
It struck her as odd that the door wasn't fully shut, just barely ajar, but Mia's bodyguard was standing right next to it, keeping watch, so nobody was sneaking in.
Erin nodded at him and he turned to say something, lifting a hand to signal her to wait, but she'd already nudged the door open—just enough to see Mia standing by the vanity.
It took her a few seconds to process what was in front of her, because the singer hadn't showered yet, she was still in the same clothes she'd finished the show in, and her palms were pressed against the waist of a woman with ash-blonde hair, that woman's hands on her ass and her tongue in Mia's mouth.
Mia was kissing her hungrily, stumbling backward with her toward the couch at the far end of the room.
The doctor stepped back and pulled the door shut, then turned to the bodyguard.
"Why is it open?" she asked, irritated—as if she were only concerned about Mia's privacy and nothing else.
"She left it that way. Why?"
She gave him a look like he was an idiot and shook her head, moving away from the dressing room door with one hand in her pocket and the other twisting her ponytail between her fingers.
She went into the medical room and sat on the exam table, trying to process the burning inside her and control the tightness in her chest. She felt stupid for every second she'd spent thinking that maybe Mia felt something more than the urge to add her to a list. The answer was right there, a few yards down the hall, where the singer was probably already undressed.
"What are you thinking about, with that face on you?" Lexie's voice from the hallway made her jump.
The journalist had been walking past and stopped when she spotted Erin. She didn't hesitate to step in without being invited, or to ease the door shut behind her.
"Are you okay?" Lexie asked.
Erin's gray eyes were like a storm cloud when they lifted to the journalist, who felt an involuntary pulse between her legs nudge her a couple of steps closer.
"Perfectly fine," Erin replied, her voice low and rough with something like anger.
"You look like you want to murder someone, but I'll take your word for it," Lexie said with a small smile.
Erin didn't smile back, and that only stoked the heat spreading through the journalist's body—especially in the middle of it.
"My hotel's close by," she said softly, not needing to add anything more, because the gray-eyed woman had already caught on.
"I can't leave Mia's hotel—I need to stay nearby and available in case—"
"Yours works too," Lexie cut in, taking two more steps until she stood between Erin's legs. Erin lifted her eyes, held her gaze, and did nothing to push her away.
She didn't move when Lexie took one more step and got close enough that Erin had no choice but to part her thighs a little wider, and she didn't stop her when the journalist tilted her head and pressed a soft kiss to her ear that sent a shiver through her.
"Is your silence a yes?" Lexie whispered, dragging her nails lightly along Erin's neck, who barely held back a sharp breath.
"Yes," she answered, and she decided not to ask herself whether she was giving in out of pure revenge for something she couldn't quite name, or because Lexie was attractive and easy to be around, and she'd gone months without sex.
She grabbed her things and walked out of the medical room with the journalist beside her.
Erin moved at a fast clip, as if she were suddenly desperate to get out of her clothes and let Lexie do everything she seemed to be promising with her eyes.
She spotted Noah at the far end of the hallway and picked up her pace to catch him.
"I'm heading to the hotel now, Noah. Make sure she eats something, or—" Erin turned and, for some reason, glanced toward the dressing room door, "—or at least make sure she stays hydrated when she's done with whatever she's doing. I'll stop by her suite in the morning."
"Yeah, of course." Noah scratched his messy hair and dropped his eyes a little, and Erin realized he already knew what was happening in his friend's dressing room right now. "Have fun."
For a moment she didn't know what he meant, but then she remembered Lexie was right beside her and it was pretty obvious she was leaving with her.
"You too."