Tempting

by Crystal Kaswell

  "Are they?"

  "Yeah." He slides his arms around my waist. "Not as glad as I am." He lets out a sigh of pleasure as he pulls me into a close hug.

  God, I could die right here in his arms and that would be okay. I can't remember the last time I felt this safe or whole.

  This is dangerous. If I'm not careful, I'm going to fall back in love with Ethan. But I do want to have fun. I want to feel good.

  I tell my thoughts to take a hike, then I close my eyes and soak in the feeling of his hands on my skin as he soaps and rinses my body. I explore every inch of his defined body as I soap him. His back is strong. His shoulders are broad. His ass and thighs are muscular.

  "Whatever you're doing, it's working." I drag my fingers over his back.

  He laughs. "I know. You too." He presses his palm against my ass and pulls my body into his. "Fuck, I'm going to have to have you again at this rate."

  Right on cue, there's a pounding knock. It's coming from outside the bus.

  Then Joel's voice booms through the walls. "Hope you two are decent, 'cause I'm coming in. And I have company."

  "I thought he didn't screw girls in the bus?" I whisper.

  "He doesn't." Ethan turns the shower off and steps out of the stall. He grabs the towel that's hanging on the wall and offers it to me. "Shit. Forgot to grab a second towel." He looks me up and down. "As much as I'd like to watch you walk around the bus naked, you can keep that one."

  "What if I want to walk around naked?"

  "Too dangerous. If one of the guys touches you, I'll have to kill him. And then I'll get arrested, you'll be called in for questioning. It will be a mess."

  "Better to keep the towel on," I agree.

  He nods.

  My lips curl into a smile. He's protective of me. I shouldn't find that thrilling what with our this is just for fun agreement.

  But I do.

  I dry off the best I can in the tiny space and offer Ethan the towel.

  He shakes his head. "I'm good. You decent?"

  I wrap the towel around my chest and knot it tightly. "Yeah. Why?"

  "No reason." He pulls the bathroom door open and steps onto the bus.

  "Oh fuck, put that thing away," Joel calls out. "Hope that's you in there, Violet?"

  "Violet?" Tom's voice flows into the bathroom. "I guess that answers that question. And this answers the how did you get Violet to agree to fuck you question."

  Despite the blush forming on my cheeks, I step into the main room. Ethan is still naked. There's no sign he intends to put on clothing.

  Not that I'm complaining. But it is strange.

  Tom nods hello. Joel does the same.

  "Is this a drummer's convention or are you two here to gossip?" I ask.

  Tom looks at Ethan. Not so much at Ethan as at Ethan's cock. It is a marvelous sight, even without the hard-on.

  He looks to me. "Nice going, Violet."

  "Oh God." I hide behind my palm.

  Joel looks around the room. "So we're all okay with this?"

  "I'm enjoying it," I say.

  "Doesn't bother me," Tom says.

  Joel shakes his head. He grabs the blanket off the couch and tosses it to Ethan. "You're washing that next time we stop."

  Ethan laughs but he still gets back into his jeans and t-shirt. Well, the Sinful Serenade t-shirt that no doubt belongs to someone else.

  He's not wearing anything under his jeans.

  How am I supposed to think for the rest of the night?

  "Shit, if you'd told me you were gonna be a free walking billboard, I would have insisted you put on clothes." Tom looks to me. "How was it?"

  "You don't have to answer that." Ethan steps behind me. He slides his arms around me and pulls my body into his.

  Tom and Joel share a look. I have no idea what it means. Maybe it's drummer code? Ah, it's so much fun being out of the loop.

  Tom turns to me. "What's the verdict?"

  "Don't you have a wife to talk to?" I ask.

  "She's on an assignment. I'm not to disturb her." He raises a brow. "So?"

  "It was amazing. Now both of you, go. At least for five minutes. I need to get dressed and there's no privacy in here," I say.

  "There's a bathroom," Joel says.

  "Now!" I fold my arms over my chest.

  He chuckles but he still leaves. Tom too. He winks on his way out the door.

  I turn back to Ethan. "Are they always like this?"

  "Not with women. But otherwise, yeah." He plants a kiss on my neck. "You should get dressed. Joel's not going to give you a second over five minutes."

  There's something in his eyes, something he wants to say, but his lips stay zipped.

  I want to drag him into one of those tiny bunks and hold him until he pours his heart out. I try to shake off the urge. That's not part of our just having sex arrangement. And I'm pretty sure I'm down to sixty seconds at this point.

  I dig through my dresser drawer— it is nice that I have a drawer— as quickly as I can. Boxers, done. But I can't find my tank top anywhere.

  "Here." Ethan throws me a Dangerous Noise t-shirt.

  I pull it on. "What do you think? Does my taste in my music make my ass look big?"

  "Yes and I mean that as a compliment."

  My cheeks flush.

  "We're wheels up in half an hour. Want to cash in that rain check?"

  "Huh?"

  "The Fly." He pulls me onto the couch, onto his lap. "Don't tell me you forgot."

  "Of course not. This is the one where Jeff Goldbum gets naked, right?"

  He laughs. "Right."

  "Can we watch Jurassic Park after?"

  "Should have figured you'd have a crush on the guy who studies chaos theory."

  "My feelings for Dr. Ian Malcolm are purely professional. I respect him as a potential colleague."

  "Uh-huh." Ethan shakes his head like he finds me ridiculous. His lips curl into a smile.

  The bus door swings open and Joel steps inside. This time, Mal and Kit are in tow.

  "You two want to get this out of the way now?" Joel asks.

  And I thought I was tactless.

  Ethan pulls me closer. "Violet and I are having sex. Any questions?"

  Kit shoots him a good luck with that blowing up in your face look.

  Mal looks at us protectively. I'm not sure which of us he's protecting. But, really, I don't care.

  Ethan and I are having fun. Period. There's no way I'm going to open my heart to him. Not if he really believes our breakup was entirely my fault.

  If he apologizes and explains why he threw me away… maybe I'll give him another shot.

  Maybe.

  I smile my best leave me the fuck alone smile. "We're just having fun. Just until I leave the tour."

  "Long as you're on the same page." Mal nods and motions to the bunk.

  "No loud sex after midnight. That's a known rule. I'm looking at you, Valentine," Joel says.

  "Your shows don't end until midnight," I say.

  Joel shrugs. "I don't make the rules. I just enforce them."

  "Consider me warned," I say.

  Joel plops on the couch next to Ethan. "What are we watching?"

  Ethan shoots him a dirty look. "Vi and I are watching The Fly."

  "The original or the remake?" Joel asks.

  "The remake," Ethan says.

  "Thank fuck. That one's way better." Joel grabs three pairs of Bluetooth headphones. He shoots Ethan a shit-eating grin as he pulls his headphones onto his ears.

  As much as I hate Joel interrupting our moment, I have to laugh. The guy is a character.

  I slide my headphones on and settle into Ethan's lap. He slides his arms around me and boots up the movie.

  The three of us fall silent as the film starts.

  Even with our audience, it feels good watching a movie in Ethan's arms. It feels like old times. Like when I was happy.

  I want to be happy with him again.

  But that's a dangerous
thought.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Violet

  In the morning, we check into a hotel in downtown Portland. Once I'm semi-unpacked, I get to studying. There are still question marks about the Dangerous Noise books, but I can't answer any of them until I talk to Mal.

  Catching up on my coursework makes this whole tagging along on my rock star ex-boyfriend's tour thing feel almost normal. Studying in a quiet hotel room while Ethan is off playing live on some morning radio show is a lot like studying in Ethan's living room while he's off playing in the soundproofed practice room downstairs.

  I work on linear algebra until my brain is jelly then I walk to the Peet's Coffee around the corner, drink tea until my brain is solid, and I study some more.

  This—me and my textbook and a steaming hot unsweetened matcha latte—this is where I belong. I don't have to play down my interest in math. I can get as excited over solving problems as I want. I can clap with joy when I figure out a tricky answer. I can chew the ends of my pen when I'm stuck on a problem.

  I can let my I love math freak flag fly.

  I finish my matcha latte and order another. My stomach growls. It wants food—not pastries, nuts, or candies, actual food—but my brain wants more math first. I spend another two hours finishing my work, then I grab lunch at a taco truck and head back to the hotel.

  Mal is in the lobby, greeting a pretty woman with short black hair. One of his fuck buddies, I guess.

  He nods hello. She eyes me curiously. After he whispers in her ear, she relaxes and waves me over.

  Uh… I'm glad that Mal enjoys his different girl in every town thing (at least that's how Ethan describes it) but I'm not particularly interested in the details. The man is objectively hot— tall, blue eyes, brown hair, ripped arms and chest covered in black ink—but he doesn't stoke my embers. He really feels like an older brother.

  "Sharon, this is Violet." Mal shoots her a knowing look. "Ethan's… friend."

  "Oh, Violet." She shakes my hand with a friendly smile. "It's nice to finally meet you."

  I'm gossip for Mal and his fuck buddy. That's fun.

  "Ethan used to talk about you all the time. The poor guy couldn't admit how much he—"

  Mal cuts her off. "Vi's helping with the books." He looks to me. "We're gonna be busy for a while, but I want to talk to you about this today. You coming to the show?"

  "I can," I say.

  "Should only take an hour. You can grab a ride with Sharon." He turns to Sharon. "You don't mind waiting, do you, baby?"

  She giggles. "Every time you're in town, it's the same."

  The way she's looking at him… I don't need those details. I clear my throat. "Just knock on my door when you're ready." I turn and hightail it to the elevator bank before I have time to get jealous of Mal's ability to separate sex and love.

  I mean to go to my room, but my feet are drawn to Ethan's room. My hand is drawn to his door. My heart is drawn to his.

  I knock lightly. "It's me."

  There are footsteps then he's pulling the door open. "Hey."

  "Hey." I shift my messenger bag off my shoulders and drop it on the ground in front of me. That's better. There's less weighing me down.

  "You want to come in?" He nods to his mostly clean room.

  "I have to catch up on work."

  "Do it here." He picks up my messenger bag, slides his arm around my waist, and whisks me into the room.

  Damn, he smells good. He looks effortless in his skinny jeans and t-shirt. I wrap my arms around him to soak in the warmth of his body.

  "You're dangerous to my productivity," I mumble.

  "Isn't it spring break?"

  "I'm trying to get ahead of schedule."

  He laughs. "Of course you are." He takes a step backwards and nods to the guitar and amp in the corner. "I'm gonna practice. You can use the desk."

  "You lugged that amp all the way up here?"

  "This is nothing." He picks up the amp with one hand and holds it over his head to make his point. "You're giving me a look."

  "What look?"

  "Not sure, but I like it." He sits on the bed and pulls his guitar into his lap. "You keep looking at me like that and I'm gonna destroy your productivity for the rest of the afternoon."

  "I'll keep my eyes on my textbook."

  "I hope you don't." He pulls a guitar pick from his pocket and strums. First, he plays a scale. Then another. Another. It's the same order as always. He looks to me. "Is this the major or the minor?" He plays another scale.

  It's familiar. But I'm not sure.

  He plays it again. This time, the notes are higher.

  I shake my head. "I don't know."

  He plays it again, higher, lower, lower. He jumps up a few octaves then jumps back down, then he's improvising a guitar solo.

  I close my eyes and let the music wash over me. Music is the only thing I ever feel. I can't explain music. I don't know anything about it. But I can feel the patterns, the rhythm, the melody. It's in my bones.

  He gives me a half-bow when he finishes. "How's the homework?"

  "Delayed."

  "But besides that?"

  "Good. I'm learning this new concept in differential geometry-"

  "Differential geometry?"

  I laugh. "It looks at three dimensional shapes in space." I launch into an explanation of my current class. Mostly, it focuses on control theory, how to model variables in a non-linear way. It's sort of like chaos theory. I try to channel Michael Crichton to explain it in the simplest possible terms. "So it's really not that complicated."

  Ethan laughs. "Not even a little."

  "Just a bit harder than calculus." I pull my textbook, notebook, and pen from my messenger bag. The way Ethan is looking at me with affection in his eyes is making me nervous. I chew on the cap of my pen. That helps.

  "I love the way you light up when you talk about math. I'm glad you get to do what you love." He spins his guitar pick. "I'm going to stop distracting you eventually."

  "You can distract me a little."

  "Let me make it up to you." He stretches his fingers then places them on his guitar. He starts to play a familiar song, Can't Seem to Make You Mine by Garbage.

  Does the choice mean anything? Does he even know the title? I try not to think about it. Instead, I close my eyes and let the music wash over me. Ethan goes through a dozen alternative rock hits—all songs I love, but is that a coincidence or does he remember?—before he starts practicing Dangerous Noise songs.

  The whole time, I pretend like I'm studying. But really, I'm thinking about how much this feels like old times.

  I fucking miss old times.

  The afternoon is a blur of studying. First with Ethan. Then in my room. I barely have time to change, fix my hair, and do my makeup before Sharon pops by to whisk me to the venue. She talks my ear off about how impressive it is that I'm helping with the band's books at such a young age, and about how she actually works for a software company that always has room for smart people in software design, especially people with master's degrees from NYU.

  She assures me that Portland's gorgeous sunny summers are worth the six months of rain and grey. Sharon seems nice, but I'm glad when we arrive backstage and find Mal. He plants a deep kiss on her lips, whispers sweet nothings in her ear, and sends her away.

  I bite my lip to keep from commenting on his player moves.

  He chuckles but says nothing about my resting bitch face.

  Our workspace is a dressing room. Its locked door is labeled Private. Seems Mal is the only person who has the key.

  He locks the door behind us and sets up his laptop at a table in the corner. The room is small but it's clean and the table has two chairs. It's a fine place to work.

  I double-check my findings then I go over them with Mal. He nods as I explain, only occasionally interjecting to ask for clarification. Mostly, he nods or shakes his head, holding his usual Mal Strong it's hard being in charge but someone's got to do it po
ker face.

  When I've explained everything I can, I do my best to summarize. "It's possible this is an accounting error, but that's unlikely. Twenty grand goes missing then it shows up two months later. You haven't lost any money, but all signs point to someone 'borrowing' it and replacing it secretly."

  "Hmmm."

  "Should I do anything about this?"

  "No. The money is here. Twenty grand isn't anything to fuss over."

  That must be nice. "What do you want me to tell Ethan?"

  Mal pushes up from the table. "Mind if I ask you something personal?"

  "Do I have a choice?"

  He raises a brow.

  I push myself up too. I try to copy his cool and composed gesture, but it's not happening.

  I pace.

  He stares.

  I pace faster.

  "That a no?" he asks.

  "Just ask."

  "You and Ethan—is that really no strings attached?" His voice drops low enough to convince me he's concerned.

  I wish I had an answer. I fold my arms and hold Mal's steady stare. "I'm trying to work on living in the moment."

  He chuckles. "That's bullshit."

  "Maybe, but it's true. I haven't had any fun since Asher died."

  "Any?"

  "Not the kind you have with Sharon. Or when you step on stage every night. I know that's hard work, but I see the four of you after. Even you look exhilarated."

  "Hmm…" He gives me a paternal once-over.

  I'm sure Mal means well, but he's not going to convince me his loyalties lie anywhere other than with Ethan. "It's really none of your business."

  "I know."

  "Then how about we stay on task?"

  "I have an idea about where the money is. If Ethan asks, tell him that."

  "That you won't tell me?"

  "Yeah."

  "Okay." I try to hold a confident posture, but Mal's stare is intense. Within moments, I'm back to pacing.

  "Maybe it's none of my business, but do me a favor, Violet. Don't break his heart again."

  Anger flares in my chest. Who the fuck does Mal think he is, looking at me with that concerned big brother expression, like I maliciously tore out Ethan's heart and threw it to the wolves?