by Lisa Suzanne
“Holy shit,” I whisper. I stare at the front of the bus in total awe.
Couches line the two bus walls with a walkway down the middle. Televisions hang above each side of the bus, so no matter where you’re sitting, you can see one. Another one is perched directly behind the driver’s seat. What do they need three TVs for?
A small table comes out of the wall on the right and sort of acts as a separator between the front section of the bus and whatever is behind the door leading to the next section. Four chairs sit around the table, and I wonder if one of those will be outfitted with the little toddler seat Danielle suggested I buy in lieu of a highchair. On the left is a kitchenette, complete with a counter, sink, microwave, single burner stovetop, coffee pot, miniature oven, and refrigerator. I’m curious to explore the cabinets and drawers and whether we’ll eat our meals here on this bus or how that works. The only logistical meals I even thought about were for Chance, not for myself...though Danielle did suggest I bring some snacks along, so I got my favorite splurges since it was on Brett: Twizzlers and Cheez-Its.
“So this is where you’ll probably hang out most often,” she says. “It’s like the kitchen and family room of a regular house. Through here are the bedrooms.”
I set down the carrier and take Chance out. I set him on my hip and carry him through the first bedroom. A queen bed takes up one side of this section of the bus, and a curtain hangs by the headboard but it’s currently pulled open. A track tells me that it does swing closed for privacy. On the other side of the walkway is a dresser with a TV hanging above it and a stand-up wardrobe that serves as a closet. The dresser is covered in stuff: papers and notebooks, half-drunk water bottles, black sharpie markers, and a stack of headshots. Clearly whoever lives in this part of the bus—likely Tommy Stevenson since that’s whose face is in the headshots—has zero concerns about his things shifting in transit.
“This is Tommy’s room. On most buses, this is where the bunks would be, but Brett and Tommy specially designed this one so they could each have their own love den.” She laughs at the description, but honestly it only serves to scare me a little.
Just before the next door is a small desk, and I can’t help but wonder if Tommy or Brett sits there writing their next hits as they travel around the country. It’s sort of a romantic, dreamy thought, anyway. The way Danielle makes it sound, the desk is probably just another humping post.
I wrinkle my nose at the thought.
Across from the desk is a bathroom, and then Danielle opens the next door. “And this is Brett’s room. Now your room, too, and Chance’s—at least on the nights when we don’t have a hotel booked. And trust me, you’ll really look forward to hotel nights.”
I glance around at our new digs. Another queen bed—this one is made, at least. Another dresser. Another television. A little more breathing room than the hallway we walked through to get here. I see an empty space where Chance’s crib will go. It seems like it’ll work...except I’m not sure where I’m supposed to sleep. The bed is Brett’s, not mine. Maybe the couches up front? But that hardly seems like a place to get rest.
Some guy I’ve never seen before comes through with the crib and gets to work on setting it up in the space I’d just looked at.
“Thank you,” I say.
“This is Mack,” she says, nodding toward him. “One of my favorite roadies.” He glances up at her and laughs, and she laughs along with him, like it’s some inside joke. She turns back to me. “The band has a private event tonight. Come to it with me.”
I shake my head. “Oh, no, I couldn’t. What would I do with Chance?”
“Amanda will watch him. She’s got my Luna right now. She’s amazing with kids and a brand-new mom. We help each other out, and now you’re part of that club, too.”
I shake my head. “It’s a nice offer, but I think we just need to get used to this whole idea for a minute.”
“I understand,” she says, and if she’s disappointed, she keeps it to herself.
“So we’re staying in a hotel tonight?” I ask.
She nods. “Anytime we’re in a city for more than a single night, we book a hotel. You’ll stay with Brett. I need to get ready for tonight, so I’ll leave my number and you text me if you need anything. A car will swing by to take you to the hotel in a few hours. The driver will have your key. In the meantime, there’s a deli down the street if you need something to eat or you could wait and get something at the hotel.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
She heads out, and the crew members move all around me as they move our belongings onto this bus, our new home on wheels.
I still haven’t seen Brett, but even if I had...what the hell am I getting myself into here?
CHAPTER 13: BRETT
I tap open on my phone’s app, and the hotel room door unlocks with a click. I open the door as quietly as I can since it’s a little after one in the morning and I assume everyone is sleeping. Hannah left a light on in the living area of the suite. The bedroom door is leaned closed but not shut all the way, and I peek in. There are two queen beds, one occupied by Hannah, and a travel crib set up beside her where I spot a sleeping baby.
Jesus.
If someone would’ve told me I’d be touring with a girl and my son, I would’ve laughed in their faces. I still can’t quite believe it. I still know nothing about the girl or the kid, but we’ve got this whole forced proximity thing happening, so I’ve got the time if I’m so inclined.
I’m still not sure whether I’m inclined.
Hannah seems nice enough, but that’s where it begins and ends with her. The more I’m around her, the more I notice how attractive she is, but she’s not my type. And even if she was, it doesn’t matter. Getting involved with her would be a stupid idea considering the circumstances.
But I opted out of going on a hunt tonight with Tommy, and I’m already pining for the way my life was. Things were moving along just fine. I was ignorant to the fact that I had fathered a child. And now he’s staying in a hotel with me—even though we’re in her hometown still, I felt the need to get her and my kid out of that shitty apartment as soon as possible.
I step into the room. Hannah’s sleeping soundly, her quiet, even breathing a telltale sign. I lean over the travel crib and watch Chance for a few beats. He’s sleeping on his stomach with his cheek smashed into the mattress. His butt is up in the air a little with his legs tucked under him. It doesn’t look like the most comfortable position. In fact, he sort of looks like a little frog, but I watch as his whole body rises and falls infinitesimally with each breath he takes.
I take a quick shower, and as soon as I shut off the water, I hear a baby crying.
“Shit,” I mutter to myself. I grab the towel and dry off as quickly as I can, and then I wrap it around my waist and rush out.
I’m not sure why I rush out, exactly, because I have no idea what to do once I get out there, but it’s some natural instinct to quiet a crying baby I suppose.
Hannah beat me to it. She’s lifting him gently out of the crib as I burst into the room wearing just a towel.
She jolts as she hears me, startled, and she freezes for a beat with a crying Chance in her arms. Her eyes flick down my body toward the towel covering up the goods, and I can’t help the sly smile that tugs at my lips as I watch her jaw slacken in the light peeking into the room from the living area of our suite.
Women tend to have a similar visceral response to my body. It’s maybe the one family trait passed down to me that I’m grateful for. Every time my father reminded me that I needed to suck it up and be a man, I’d turn to exercise to work off the anger.
It worked, I guess.
She seems to snap out of it as her wide eyes move back to mine. She shakes her head a little, and then she says softly, “I’m so sorry. I’ll get him calmed down. It’s just a new place, that’s all.”
It’s my turn to take in the view. She turns to the baby to soothe him, and that’s when I spot her barely ther
e shorts and the little t-shirt she’s sleeping in...the one that tells me she isn’t wearing a bra, and my mouth waters a little at the thought.
I shake it off. “It’s fine. Don’t apologize.” I head toward my duffel bag to grab some clothes.
He quiets down quickly as she sings a quiet song to him, and once he’s calm, she sets him back into the crib. I go to the bathroom to get dressed and brush my teeth, and when I return to the bedroom, all is calm and quiet.
“Goodnight,” she says softly.
“Night. What was that song you were singing?” I ask in a whisper so as not to wake the sleeping baby.
“It’s called ‘Goodnight Moon,’” she whispers back in the dark. “There’s a book by the same name. Unrelated.”
I chuckle.
“Brie said our mom used to sing it to us. I don’t remember, but Brie always sang it to Chance.”
I don’t even know what to say to that. It’s all just a reminder of how much this girl has lost in her life. “It’s nice that you’re carrying on the tradition.”
“I think it comforts him,” she says. “And maybe me a little bit, too.”
I let those be the last words as she drifts to sleep, but I find myself unable to fall asleep. This is the first time in months that I’ve gone to bed completely sober. No weed tonight. No alcohol. I just wasn’t in the mood to party even though I went out with Tommy. He went home with some chick after our event tonight, and I took an Uber to the hotel.
It’s not unusual for us to split up once we’ve found our bait, but tonight...I didn’t even look for bait. Even thinking the word bait for a woman feels a little gross to me, and I’m not sure why. I’m not sure what changed, but when I think of passing that word down to my kid and him referring to a woman as “bait,” my stomach twists a little, and not in a good way.
But seeing Hannah calm him down, seeing the trust he has in her...that makes my stomach twist, too—just in a completely different way. In a way I haven’t quite identified yet.
When morning peeks through the hotel curtains, I get out of bed. Sleep was elusive all night, and I’m tired of tossing and turning. I close the bedroom door to let those two get more rest, and I head out to the balcony. I sit on one of the two chairs out there and stick my feet up on the railing as I look out over the view. We only get hotels when we’re in a city for multiple nights, and this time we stayed at a place close to last night’s event in Scottsdale. The sun is up and already hot as fuck over the golf course, but at least the view’s nice. Palm trees up close, mountains in the distance.
But it’s seven in the morning and already over a hundred degrees, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why anyone would subject themselves to that. I’ll have to ask Hannah.
I blow out a breath as I think about Hannah.
The way her eyes fell to my abs as she spotted me in my towel.
The little bit of surprise there, like she wasn’t expecting what she saw.
The barely there shorts.
The t-shirt that highlighted those perky tits.
My dick wakes up at the thought, but I silently berate him. Down boy.
She just lost her sister. She’s not in the place for all that.
I call room service and realize I have no idea what she or the baby eat for breakfast, so I just order some coffee, a variety of breakfast pastries, and some fruit. I could always order more when they’re up.
I wonder how late Hannah will sleep. Her sister’s service is in a few hours, so I’m guessing she’ll be up soon to shower and get ready for that. But I don’t really know.
It’s just as I have that thought that she steps through the slider. Her hair is down rather than the usual ponytail she wears. It’s longer than I realized, down to about the middle of her back, and it’s wild and messy from sleep. She rubs her eyes beneath her glasses before she collapses into the chair beside me, still wearing that blessed tight shirt and those flawless short shorts.
“Morning,” she says, squinting against the bright sunshine.
I can’t help my glance at her tits before I move my eyes back to the golf course. “Morning,” I grunt. “I ordered some food. Should be here soon.”
“That was nice of you,” she says. “Thank you.”
I press my lips together and nod, finding myself backing away a bit before I’m even giving her the chance to get to know me. It’s not really fair to her, but I don’t know her intentions and I want to make it very clear that I’m just being nice. It’s not like she and I will ever be a thing.
Today’s probably not the day to drill that point in, though.
“I’ll go shower.” She doesn’t get up. Doesn’t even attempt to get up. I chuckle, and she glances over at me. Her brows dip down when our eyes meet. “What?”
“You said you’ll go shower and then you didn’t move.”
“Oh,” she says, and she huffs out a sound that sort of resembles a chuckle but her lips don’t move into a smile. It’s then I realize I haven’t really seen a genuine smile from this girl. “Yeah. It takes me a minute to wake up.”
My eyes are still on her. “I have a question for you.”
She raises her brows as if to tell me to ask away.
“Why does anybody live in this oven of a city?” I blurt.
This time the chuckle is a bit closer to a laugh. “Phoenix really is a lovely place to live. It’s hot in the summer, but the shade’s not so bad and the rest of the year more than makes up for it.”
“If you say so.”
“Come back in January when it’s snowing in most of the country and then tell me how much it sucks.”
I laugh. “You got me there.”
“I guess I need to go get ready.”
“Yeah,” I murmur. “I know today won’t be easy, so please just tell me what I can do to help.”
“You’ve done plenty. I can’t thank you enough for paying for the services.” She nods toward the doors behind us. “For the hotel. For allowing me to come with Chance on this tour and not splitting us up. It’s all a lot and I don’t think I’ve quite realized everything that’s changing just yet.”
I press my lips together and give her a short nod.
She stands and stretches as she looks out over the golf course, and my eyes fall onto a little peek of the skin of her back as that blessed shirt lifts just a little at her stretch.
Wait a minute.
Was that...was that ink back there?
I need another peek.
I don’t want to admit this, and I won’t to anybody other than myself...but I’m suddenly intrigued.
CHAPTER 14: HANNAH
I take a quick shower since Chance will be up soon. I’m thankful he only woke up once last night. We’ve been blessed with a good sleeper who only wakes up on occasion. He’s never slept anywhere but his crib at home, so I’m not surprised he woke up last night. But I don’t know what Brett’s sleeping pattern is like and I’d hate for us to be the reason he was up all night.
Except...it’s his responsibility now, too. I realize he’s paying me to be the one to take care of those cries, but he’s the father.
He still hasn’t actually held his son, and I’m not sure if he even realizes that.
But how surreal is it to be in this luxury hotel room that’s bigger than my apartment? Add that to the fact that I slept in the same bedroom as a bona fide rock star last night, and I’m having a hard time believing this is really my life now.
It’ll all become too real in a few hours when I’m forced to say goodbye to my sister.
I use the luxurious hotel shampoo and soap, but I like the coconutty smell of my three-dollar bottle of shampoo I pick up at the grocery store. I might feel like someone else when I can’t sniff the coconuts all day, and I keep thinking maybe I should’ve used my own stuff. I already feel like an impostor. I already have the strong sense that a girl like me doesn’t belong here. Maybe I’m overthinking it, but the shampoo seems to intensify those feelings.
; I take a little extra time to make myself presentable, popping in the contact lenses that make my eyes itch but that I wear when I bartend. I put on a light smattering of make-up and dry my hair. I put on the single black dress I own and pair it with my black slides.
When I step out of the bathroom dressed and ready to go, the baby is still asleep. I head back out to the main room and spot Brett still out on the patio.
I open the door and find a spread of food on the table out there with him. He holds a cup of steaming coffee in his hands. “Food’s here,” he says, and when he glances up at me, I see he’s wearing sunglasses.
And somehow, I still feel his gaze as it lingers on me. As it travels down the length of my body and brands each spot.
I shake that thought out.
I don’t even like this guy. He’s an asshole, and even if he wasn’t, once upon a time he knocked up my sister. That alone puts him in the totally off-limits category.
I feel like he’s going to comment on the way I look, and it makes me a little uncomfortable. It reminds me how he didn’t give me a second glance the day I went to his little performance at the BR Tech Industries anniversary party.
Brie’s accident had been three days earlier, and I was running on anxiety and fear. I had school in the morning, spent the entire day at the hospital, and work in the evenings—except the night of the event. Mina took Chance that night, I brought him with me the other nights, Dottie took him in the mornings, and he was with me at the hospital. I was suddenly a mother figure to a baby when I already had a crammed full schedule.
I was about to crash from all of it, but that night I knew I needed to get in touch with Brett. I didn’t exactly have time or the inclination to run home and do my make-up, so I showed up how I showed up.
And the next day, when he saw me ready to go work at the bar and hardly recognized me, I immediately recognized how superficial he is.
My sister was a beautiful woman. She could’ve been with any man she wanted, but in her mind, nobody compared to the untouchable rock star she was blessed to have one night with. She held out hope that someday things would change, and she threw herself into raising her little boy and working as hard as she could. She was a research assistant at BR Tech, and she was lucky enough to be able to work from home with the occasional in-office meeting—which meant she didn’t need to pay for daycare because she could manage it herself. She was slowly working her way up, and each promotion made our lives just a little easier.