Easton’s chest pumps with his silent chuckle.
“Well?” I prompt.
“I’m working on it,” he murmurs as a stagehand approaches with a water bottle. Easton takes it and thanks him before downing the whole thing in a few swallows. “I need to help break down and load up,” he relays apologetically through a hasty inhale.
“How can I help?”
“You can’t. Joel is going to get you checked into the hotel. Are you tired?”
“Hell no. I could run a marathon.” I turn his hat backward and pretend to push up my sleeves as his easy grin returns.
“Let’s have a late dinner with the guys at the hotel. Two hours?”
I curl my lip, renewed energy coursing through me. “Sure I can’t help?” I point to myself. “I’ve got all this pent up…”
Easton lifts a brow as Tack speaks up from behind him. “Do you know how to break down a drum kit?”
“I’m a quick study!” I shout, sidestepping Easton and heading in Tack’s direction just as Easton grips my arm.
“Deal with your own kit, asshole,” Easton snaps as Tack gives him the bird without glancing up.
It’s then, over Easton’s shoulder, that I spot a handful of women waiting side stage, not a single swinging dick to be seen. Their view of us is obstructed by Joel as he moves toward them, arms outstretched before he ushers them further back. Easton leans in, forcing my eyes back to his. “I’m not trying to get rid of you, Natalie.”
I muster a shrug as if I haven’t a care in the world. “It’s not my business.”
His nostrils flare in clear irritation, and he gives me a dead stare.
“I’m golden, and it’s not my place, so let’s drop it.” Turning, I start a search for my heels just inside the curtain and fish them out one by one. Without prompt, Easton grips my hip for support as I push into them, his fingers brushing my skin when he releases me. Swallowing, I brave a look up at him to see the same intensity I’ve seen several times before.
He leans down, so we’re eye level. “Your lips are swollen from my kiss, and I’m willing to bet good money that your panties are fucking useless. Should we find a place backstage where I can make my point clearer?”
“You don’t have to…say things like that.” I feel my neck reddening as he presses in.
“I don’t say anything I don’t want to, and you fucking know that. See you in two hours.” He leaves me then, panties drenched, head in a fog, body screaming, demanding satisfaction, my heart an inch from orbit.
“Ready, sweetheart?” Joel asks, suddenly standing next to me, jarring me out of my stupor. Narrowing my eyes, I look over at him as he presses his lips together in an attempt to hide his smile.
“You really didn’t tell him?”
“I really didn’t have to,” he replies without further explanation before ushering me toward the exit. Glancing back, my gaze finds its way to Easton as he secures his guitar in his case before flicking to the eager group of women standing in wait. Easton’s assurances whisper through my mind as I run my fingers over my tingling lips.
I am so fucked.
“Hey, Daddy,” I say, tossing my overpacked suitcase on the hotel’s king bed. He starts in immediately.
“What’s with the vague text and skipping out on us?”
“I got caught up with a story. You know how it is.”
“I do, but your mom’s pissed. She cooked.”
“Apologize for me.”
“You’re on speaker, brat,” Mom chimes in as I unzip and begin to load the dresser.
“Sorry, sorry,” I plea as the guilt sets in that I’m again lying to them both, and with far too much ease.
“Raincheck,” Dad chimes in. “How about Sunday dinner?”
“No can do. You two will have to entertain yourselves this weekend. I’ve got plans.”
“With whom?” Mom asks unabashedly.
“Addie,” Dad scolds. “It’s her weekend and her business. If she wants us to know, she’ll tell us.”
“Fine,” Mom concedes easily. “I’ll push dinner to Monday.”
“I’ll be there. I love you both…so much.”
“Love you too,” they say in unison.
“Oh, Daddy, if you want to look over the specs for this week’s edition, I uploaded the layout before I left the office. I don’t know if it’s exactly what you want, but it’s there.”