But I'm going to take him at his word about this just friends thing. Even if it's making me feel sick.
I tell him everything I can about my classes. School is going well, great actually. I'm top of my class, I've done amazing internships. I'm graduating in a few months.
My professional life is amazing. I spend most of my time studying.
Ethan seems happy for me, but that doesn't make sense either.
He stared at my acceptance letter like it was radioactive and now he's happy I'm doing well in school?
I try to push it aside. I try to focus on keeping things platonic as I shift the conversation to sci-fi TV and which of the guys in Dangerous Noise is most likely to be a Cylon—a robot posing as a human (obviously Mal or Kit)—but I keep getting lost in his soft lips and his gorgeous blue eyes.
My gaze keeps drifting to the chest-piece tattoo poking out from his v-neck.
My hands keep begging me to touch him.
After dinner, we walk back to the venue and we hang out in an empty corner, alone, until it's time for him to get ready. Just like old times, I hang out on the sidelines. The band has gained an entourage, but no one pays me much attention. Except for Piper hugging both of us goodbye, nobody talks to us.
I'm in my own universe. My problems feel far away. The weight of Asher's death feels far away. Everything except Ethan’s smile feels far away.
The show starts in a flash. The amphitheater goes dark, the guys make their way to the stage, then the lights are on. The crowd goes wild as the guitar intro starts. It's Better Days, a song about loss and longing, Dangerous Noise's biggest hit to date… not that I keep tabs on Ethan or anything.
Ethan is at the mic, teasing the crowd.
"You miss us, Los Angeles?" he asks.
The crowd screams.
"We missed you too. It's true what they say. There's no place like home."
The crowd screams louder.
"It's getting hot in here, huh?" Ethan tugs at his t-shirt, teasing the crowd.
Every girl in the place shrieks.
Ethan winks at Mal then at the crowd. "No, must not be that hot yet. Maybe after a few more songs."
He strums his guitar, launching into their next song.
On stage, Ethan is in control. He's teasing the crowd and jumping around.
Damn, he's always been talented but he's full-on Rock God now. He's cool, effortless, bursting with energy.
I melt when he smiles at the crowd—I’d know that smile anywhere. I’d know that Ethan anywhere.
That's my Ethan, the one who loves sharing his music, the one who made me feel like I was the most important person in the universe.
And, dammit, I want my Ethan back.
I want him to be my Ethan again.
The show holds all my attention. The way Ethan moves, the sight of his muscles flexing and relaxing as he plays, the sound of his guitar—it's impossible to do anything but think about how I'd like to trade places with his guitar.
The last song fades. The lights go off. Then the crowd is screaming and applauding.
I haven't got a clue how to react here. I move out of the way, to the hall. Every fiber of my being is begging me to touch him. I need to get ahold of my senses before I do something rash.
But there he is, in the hall across from me. He's now sans guitar. He's shirtless too. Even in the dim light of the hallway, I can make out all the lines of his muscles.
"Enjoy the show?" His voice is a strange mix of cocky and curious.
"Not bad."
God, he looks good with sweat dripping off his chest. There's no pretense on his face—just the afterglow of performance.
This is the Ethan I fell in love with.
I want to touch him. I want to kiss him. I want to throw him against the wall and strip him out of those jeans.
Once his lips touch mine, there's no going back. My body will remember how much it needs his. My heart will remember every time he made me float. That's one hell of a dangerous kiss.
I'm not ready for it yet.
So I stare into his bright blue eyes. He is wearing eyeliner, navy eyeliner. It makes his blue eyes look even bluer.
It's hot as hell.
He takes a step towards the back door. "You staying to watch the headliners or you heading back to the bus?"
There isn't a single part of me that wants to stay. Not with the way Ethan is looking at me like he wants to throw me against the tour bus, slide my jeans and panties to my knees, and fuck me until I'm screaming his name.
Dammit, get ahold of yourself, Violet. The man threw you away. Are you really going to throw yourself at him again?
The band is playing in San Francisco the day after tomorrow. We're leaving after the show tonight and driving through the night to skip the traffic.
"I should start on that work." I slide my hands into the back pockets of my jeans so I won't reach out and touch Ethan. "Mal said he left his laptop."
Ethan nods. "Sure. This way." He presses his palm to my lower back then he leads me out the door.
The air outside is cool. The sky is dark. I take a deep breath and try my best to exhale slowly.
I can't move forward with Ethan yet, even if he is acting like the Ethan I fell in love with and not like the obnoxious playboy rock star who uses girls like me.
He nods to the roadies and various hangers-on smoking by the side door. They nod back in an of course Ethan is bringing a girl back to the bus already, attaboy kind of way.
The bus is only a few dozen feet away. There are metal barricades farther out. At the moment, there are only a few fans hanging by them.
Ethan throws a wave in their direction, then he leads me onto the unmarked black tour bus.
Ethan nods to a laptop on the kitchen table. He closes the door then leans against a bunk bed. "You really come here to work, Vi?"
"What else would I be doing?"
"Getting me alone."
"I don't…"
"Look me in the eyes and tell me you aren't thinking about unzipping my jeans." His eyes bore into mine. "Tell me you aren't thinking about coming on my fingers."
I am now. I swallow hard. "Aren't we trying to be friends?"
"Can't be friends with you if you're gonna look at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like I'm the only thing you've ever wanted."
There's no way I can stop looking at Ethan with lust in my eyes. "Same goes for you."
"I can't." Ethan moves closer. "You look amazing with that haircut." His fingers skim my bare shoulder. "It's like you're offering your neck to me."
I swallow hard.
"You still like being bitten?"
"Yes."
Every inch of my body is on fire. Ethan's breath is warm. His fingers are calloused but his touch is soft. I want those lips everywhere. I want those fingers everywhere.
Kissing Ethan is a bad idea. But my mind isn't working here.
My hand is already moving to his chest. Then my fingers are on his skin. I trace the lines of his chest-piece tattoo.
He leans down and presses his forehead to mine. His eyes go wide with intention.
I know that look.
He's going to kiss me.
Fuck, I want him to kiss me.
My body takes over. I nod a yes.
His hands go to my hips. In one swift movement, he presses me against the bus's wall-slash-window. The glass is cold against the exposed skin on my lower back.
Then my eyes are closed and his lips are on mine.
And he tastes good. He tastes like home. Right now, this instant, is the first time I've felt home in a long time.
My hands go to his ass. I pull him closer.
He's hard. And he's grinding his crotch against mine.
Every inch of me wants every inch of him.
This is the best thing I've felt in a long, long time.
I'm about to beg him to throw me on the bed when the door opens.
Joel steps onto the bus
. "Fuck, Violet, is that you?"
There's surprise written all over his grey-green eyes.
I take a step backwards. "I… I should go." Before I do something I regret.
Joel gives me an out. "Sinful Serenade just started. You won't miss much if you go now."
"Yeah, great idea. Thanks."
I need to get out of here. My brain isn't working. It's mostly tuned to the Ethan is a sex god, I need him inside me channel.
It's a very appealing channel.
I manage to switch to the Violet, you do have self-respect channel. I step off the bus, return to the concert, and attempt to think about anything but Ethan's naked body.
Chapter Ten
Ethan
Joel spares me the lecture. It's not like he can talk about screwing around. He sleeps around more than I do. Or more than I did. Now that Violet is around, casual sex doesn't hold any appeal.
I keep glancing at her. She's in the kitchenette, working at Mal's laptop, headphones around her ears.
It's a normal night on the road. Mal is in his bunk with his earplugs in. Kit, Joel, and I are playing some shooter video game on the couch. Usually, I kick ass at this game.
Tonight, I don't give a fuck. I can still taste her lips. I can still feel her moan vibrating against my skin. I need her moaning like that.
I need her screaming my name as she comes.
That kiss was enough to convince me. No fucking around. She's going to be under me, digging her nails into my back as I thrust into her.
It's not stopping there.
Being around Violet, seeing her smile light up her gorgeous green eyes, hearing her laugh in my ears… she's the only thing, besides getting my hands on a guitar, that feels right.
Violet is going to be mine again.
All mine.
Forever.
"Shit, Ethan. Are the blue balls frying your brain or something?" Joel nudges me then motions to the scores on screen—mine is pitiful compared to his. Joel looks to Kit for confirmation.
Kit, our bassist, is intense, with dark eyes, piercings, and tattoos that make panties drop. Girls go apeshit for the troubled bad boy vibes he gives off, but lately he's been keeping to himself.
Which is good—Piper is one of the girls who wants her love to heal his broken heart. She thinks I don't know she has a crush on him, but it's obvious to everyone, including Kit.
The man is my friend, but he's also a heartbreaker. He's not getting anywhere near Piper.
Nobody is breaking my baby sister's heart on my watch.
He and Joel are old friends—of course they are, they've both been in Dangerous Noise since the beginning—and they share a language I can't begin to understand.
Kit raises his eyebrows suggestively.
Joel shakes his head.
Kit looks to Joel. "Maybe the man wants to save his dexterity for his guitar."
"Yeah, his guitar. Right." Joel looks to Violet and nods hello. After she nods back, he turns to me. "You really going for this?"
Fuck yes, I'm going for this. But Joel doesn't need those details. My entire life, I've had an older brother watching over my every move, telling me what I should or shouldn't do. Now that I'm in Dangerous Noise, I have two extra older brothers. I get that I'm younger than everyone else. I get that I've fucked up shit and let people down in the past.
But I've been devoted to music since I turned shit around. I've been devoted to this band since the day I joined. I never let anything get in the way of our future.
It's about time people stop looking at me like they're expecting me to let them down.
Last thing I need is Joel and Kit getting involved.
They'll only fuck this up. It's better if I play cool.
"You really going to keep being obnoxious?" I tease.
"Of course," he says. "It's my favorite pastime. That a yes or a no?"
"Time will tell."
Joel laughs. "That's such a load." He looks to Kit. "You buying that?"
Kit shakes his head. "You're gonna fuck this up for him."
"No, he's gonna fuck it up for himself." Joel waves Violet over. "Hey, Violet. You finished with work?"
She stops chewing on her pen to pull her headphones off her ears. "What?"
"Still working?" Joel looks to me, raises a brow as if to say watch this, and looks back to Violet. "Get your sexy ass over here and take a break."
"You're the second drummer to compliment my ass today." Her voice is playful, especially given the tension that hung in the air when Joel walked in on our kiss.
"Tom Steele was moving in on my territory?" Joel shakes his head.
"You'd have to ask him that." Violet pushes herself from her seat. She doesn't move closer yet. She goes to the kitchen and grabs a water bottle from the fridge. "You want anything?"
"Man's already got fame and fortune," Joel says. "And now he's trying to win your favor too. That hurts me, Violet. That hurts me real bad."
She laughs. "You also have fame and fortune."
He smiles. "Glad you noticed."
"I've known Tom for longer than I've known you," she says.
"Are you telling me he's already won your favor?" Joel mocks outrage.
She laughs. "My favor is still unassigned."
"Will it help my case if I compliment your tits?" Joel asks.
"Can't hurt." Her eyes find mine. There's something in them—an invitation.
Every part of me—one in particular—wants to take that invitation.
But there's something else in her eyes. She's nervous.
I'm not doing anything that scares her off.
"Grab four cups and something you'd like to drink," Joel says. "Let's play Never Have I Ever."
Violet raises a brow. "Why?"
"It's fun." Joel motions for her to come here. "You know Tom's married?"
"I know that. I also know that you're a slut. Or did you stop sleeping with a different woman every night?"
"Please. It's every other night. I need time to play the drums," he says.
"I'm glad you have your priorities in order." She grabs a bottle of vodka and four cups.
"Not that rubbing alcohol shit." Joel sticks his tongue out in distaste.
"You said what I like." Violet comes closer. She sets the bottle, and four cups, on the ground and sits cross-legged behind it. "You should have been more specific."
Joel pushes off the couch to sit cross-legged next to Violet. He nudges me then motions to the empty spot on Violet's other side. "And I'm sure Violet's got enough dirt on Ethan to kill it."
The guy's already getting in my way. But I'm not about to waste this opportunity— Violet is smiling. There's no tension in her expression. Her shoulders are relaxed. Fuck, the way her top is falling off her shoulder, revealing her red bra, is making it difficult to concentrate.
She must have worn that on purpose.
To get my attention.
Maybe she told herself she wore it to get me panting with desire then leave me high and dry.
She still wore it for me.
Again, Violet's eyes catch mine. She smiles. It's a yeah, we'll be friends kind of smile.
But the way her eyes fix on the low v of my v-neck—there's nothing platonic about that.
She turns to Joel. "I'm too old to do shots. Besides, you'll die of alcohol poisoning if you take a shot every time somebody calls out something you've done."
He laughs. "Fair. How about we play the old-fashioned way? Ten fingers."
"Maybe you should take your shoes off, so you get ten toes too," Violet teases. "That might make the playing field even."
Kit chuckles.
Joel opens the bottle of vodka. He pours three cups—one for him, one for me, one for Violet. None for Kit. Violet's brow knits together the way it does when she's working something out. Then it's relaxed. She says nothing about Kit skipping the booze.
And she claims she's tactless.
Joel takes a long swig. He purses his lips in disgust. "
You really drink this shit?"
She laughs.
"Try it. It's disgusting." He grimaces.
I've never been a fan of vodka and this cheap brand doesn't do the potato liquor any favors. My throat burns as I swallow. I grimace the way Joel did.
"It can't be that bad." Violet shakes her head at us.
Joel motions to her: then try it.
She takes a long swig. Her lips purse. She sucks in her cheeks like she just tasted something sour, but she doesn't admit defeat. "Not my favorite."
"Fuck, we must have orange juice or Coke or something." Joel jumps to his feet and bounces to the fridge. Even after pounding his drums for an hour and a half, the man is bursting with energy. He grabs a carton of juice, takes a swig, deems it acceptable, and returns.
He's incredibly smooth about pouring Kit a glass of OJ and handing it over.
I stick with straight vodka. It's bad, but rubbing alcohol–flavored OJ is worse.
Violet looks to me. "If Ethan can handle it, I can."
Joel shakes his head and fills his glass to the brim. He takes a long sip. "Almost decent." He looks to Violet. "You want to start, Valentine?"
Her eyes light up at him calling her by her last name like she's one of the guys. Have to admit, I wasn't sure how Joel and Kit would act towards Violet. Maybe I should be offended by the lack of loyalty, but I'm not. I'm glad they aren't giving her shit about walking out on me.
What matters now is getting her under me.
"Hmm. Okay." She only barely grimaces as she takes a sip. Her brow knits with concentration then her eyes light up. She's got something good. "Never have I ever had a threesome with a bandmate."
"That's awfully specific," Joel says.
"Drop the finger, drummer boy." She sticks her tongue out.
Joel shakes his head. "Sorry. I have a strict 'no fraternizing within the band' policy. But-" He motions to Kit then to me.
Both of us drop a finger.
Violet's jaw drops. Her eyes go to mine. "You and Kit?"
I swallow hard. Usually, I'm more than happy to flaunt my experience. At the moment, I'm worried what Violet thinks of me. I was quite the slut before we got together. She never cared but-
God dammit, what is wrong with me? I'm not fucking shy like this.
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