by Meg Ripley
“Crack some beers,” Jules said when we’d all decided we’d had enough for the afternoon. We might do a little more practice in the evening, but Alex wanted to spend some time with Mary since he knew we’d be leaving on tour in a couple of weeks.
I threw myself onto the couch and opened my pack of cigarettes; I’d need to stop by the Circle K on the way home and get another—I was down to four. Mark handed me a beer on his way to the enormous beanbag chair on the other side of the couch, and I raised it in the air as I lit my cigarette and took the first drag of the smoke. I slipped my phone out of my pocket and finally—finally—checked my messages.
It’s not that I had a bad time or anything. I just…you have a reputation, Nick. You have to admit that about yourself. I like you and the sex was amazing but I’m not sure how much I want to trust you. I frowned at my screen and took a quick sip of my beer. For the first time in my life, the fact that I slept with women freely was truly biting me in the ass. Olivia wasn’t trying to get me to ‘change my ways’ or convince me that she was woman enough to keep me from wanting anyone else; she was actually pushing me away.
“Hey,” I said, holding my hand up to stop Alex before he left. “Didn’t Record Spin say they wanted to arrange a tour journal with us?” It had been something that Ron had brought up before Olivia had even interviewed us.
“Yeah,” Alex said, nodding. He looked at me for a moment and then started grinning. “Oh man. You want to bring that girl on tour.”
“Nicky got bit, man,” Jules said from the beat-up wingback chair he’d thrown himself into. “He’s chasing that tail.”
“You guys liked working with her yesterday,” I pointed out. “She’s the best interviewer we’ve worked with the entire time we’ve been doing this shit. Why not Olivia?”
“Think about what you’re doing, man,” Dan said, looking up from his sketchbook. “If you really want to win her over, you’re going to have to be clean-nosed on tour. No flirting with anyone else, even.”
“I just think it’d be a good idea,” I said, shrugging. “If she doesn’t want to do it then they can send someone else out with us. But she’s the best option.”
“I’ll have Ron make the call,” Alex said, looking at me for a long moment. “If she’s up to do it, then yeah, she’s the best one we’ve dealt with so far. I wouldn’t mind having her around.”
“You have to let her work, though,” Mark said, giving me a little grin. “If you get her all distracted or keep her in your bunk all the time, all she’s going to get in some pictures that aren’t fit to print and an article about fucking guitarists.”
“I’m not going to interfere,” I insisted. “But it does give me a chance to flirt with her a bit and get to know her.” I grinned. “She thinks I’m just going to move on to the next bimbo that crosses my path.”
“Well that is what you would normally do,” Dan said, raising an eyebrow.
“Nah. This time I’m going to see what a steady lay is like. Get some routine in my life.” Mark snorted.
“She’s going to ditch the tour in a month—fifty dollars on that. Who’s in?” I rolled my eyes as the rest of the guys gave their estimates: Jules said Olivia would last two weeks, Dan said she’d last the whole tour but never speak to me again, and Alex put in for me to go the distance—six months, with the ‘relationship’ ending two months after the tour did. I refused to bet on it at all; I still didn’t know exactly how long-term I wanted things to be. I just wanted a chance to see where it went, and having Olivia on the bus would be a good way to do that.
****
On a whim, I went back to Lost Weekend as soon as it opened up. People I’d seen there the day before had recognized Olivia; which told me that she went there often. Maybe I’d get lucky and run into her. I found a table and ordered myself a beer, looking at the early birds starting to filter in. I thought about the tactic I’d gotten Alex to help me with. Would Olivia be pissed at me interfering in her career? Or the fact that I was essentially putting her in a position where she had to choose to spend time around me to get ahead or avoid me and risk looking bad. It is kind of a dick move, I thought to myself, nursing a PBR. I didn’t want to get drunk before Olivia even showed up—if she was going to show up at all.
A few girls gave me looks, and I thought about what Dan had said. If I got Olivia on tour with us, I’d have to keep away from any other pretty faces or hot bodies I saw. That one looks like she’d be a lot of fun. Lots of moaning; probably loves to take it from behind…that one in the skirt, she’s all hot and heavy in the flirting but probably pouts if you want her mouth on your cock. My gaze lit on each of the women in the thinly populated club in turn. She’s into a guy going down on her. Not super good for the actual deed. Would I miss it, if I had to spend four months not even thinking about what it would take to sweet-talk some little minx of a girl onto the bus with me?
I thought about the night before with Olivia and a jolt of heat shot through me, straight to my groin. I closed my eyes for a second, taking a sip of my beer to try and cool myself off a bit. At least at the moment, I couldn’t imagine possibly missing the potential partners for the guarantee of an incredibly good lay. But you don’t know that she’ll ever have sex with you again; that’s kind of the point. What if you get her on the tour, and she goes frigid on you? I shook my head at my own thought, opening my eyes and blinking a few times to adjust. Olivia Grant didn’t have a frigid bone in her body—that much I knew. I’d have to handle her carefully, I’d have to prove I wasn’t just going to drop her as soon as another pretty face showed up, but just from one night with her it was obvious that she was the hottest fuck I’d find in months.
I caught sight of Olivia right about when I had finished my beer and was deciding whether to move on—go home, or meet up with one of the guys wherever they’d gone. She definitely wasn’t working; I grinned to myself at the sight of her in a short skirt and a pair of boots, with a filmy, thin-strapped blouse over it. The skirt wasn’t so short that she couldn’t bend over, but it definitely showed off her legs, and made me remember just what she looked like naked.
I watched her for a little while, working out my approach in my mind. Normally I almost never had to really even think about how to approach a girl; normally just walking up to them and making a little conversation was enough. But after the way she’d left me in the morning, and the way she’d responded to my text, I had to give it a little thought.
I saw her heading for the bar and started in that direction myself, moving from my table and walking up so that I’d arrive at just about the same moment she did, almost right next to her. Olivia looked a little distracted—which was to my benefit. I got to the bar next to her, and barely—barely—brushed up against her, while I leaned against the bar, my attention on the bartenders. “Nick?” I looked at her and grinned slightly.
“Fancy meeting you here,” I said. I held up one hand to indicate I was ready to order.
“Are you stalking me or something?” Olivia pressed her lips together, looking anything but pleased to see me.
“I’m here a few times a week, at least,” I said, shrugging. One of the bartenders, Rachel, came up to me. “Isn’t that right, Rachel?”
“You haven’t seen him here before, Liv?” Rachel shook her head. “Although I have to say usually Nicky either hangs out at the arcade machines or finds someone to go home with about twenty minutes after he walks in the door.” Not the best thing for Rachel to have mentioned just then.
“I hang out plenty,” I countered. “Just not on the nights you work.”
“My editor said that he got a call from your manager,” Olivia said, still halfway scowling at me. “You didn’t bitch about me, did you?”
“Nope,” I told her, shaking my head. Rachel put a PBR down in front of me and I picked it up. “In fact, you should meet with your editor as soon as possible.”
“Why is that?” Olivia crossed her arms over her chest. Rachel asked her what she wanted, int
errupting our conversation. “Jack and Coke, please,” Olivia said absently.
“Because you might just have an interesting opportunity in front of you. Not one you’re obligated to take, but one that would put you in a very good position in your career,” I told Olivia. I grinned again; I’d already decided that I wasn’t going to try and talk my way into her bed—or talk my way into getting her into my bed—that night. “I’d be curious to hear your thoughts about it.” I raised my PBR and took a step back from the bar. “Think I’ll drink this and then meet up with Jules wherever he’s landed for the night.” I felt Olivia watching me as I left the bar to wander around the room; I made sure that as long as I knew we were both still in the building, I only talked to guys. I needed to make a good impression, after all.
****
“What did you do?” I’d picked up my phone the moment I saw Olivia’s contact information on the screen.
“Huh?” It was ten in the morning—practically the crack of dawn by my normal standards. I’d ended up hanging out with Jules, who always seemed to manage to stay up until about four or five—sometimes until the actual crack of dawn.
“My editor told me that if I want the assignment, I could be your embedded journalist for the tour,” Olivia said, her voice tight and almost harsh. “What did you do?” I came fully awake and grinned to myself.
“I just suggested it would be a good idea to Alex,” I told her. “He’s the one who made the call.”
“Is this—is this some kind of blackmail, or something?” I almost laughed; thankfully I was just awake enough to know it would be a terrible idea.
“How the fuck would it be blackmail?” I shook my head, pulling the sheet over me and closing my eyes, barely holding the phone to my ear. “What am I threatening you with?” There was a long silence on the other end of the line.
“I told you that I don’t want to get all invested in you because…I know how you are.” I could hear the desperate self-control in Olivia’s voice. There was a gust of wind over the mic on her phone—or maybe she was sighing. “Is this your way of forcing me to get to know you better?”
“I’m not forcing you to do anything,” I pointed out. “You were the best interviewer we dealt with, and everyone in the band agreed that if we had to have someone on the bus with us—and the magazine had already convinced Ron to do that—then we’d prefer it was you.”
“You’re going to let me do my job, right?” Now instead of self-control, there was anxiety in her voice. “Nick, please—if you care about me at all as a human being…”
“I like you a hell of a lot,” I told her. “I care about you as way more than just a human being.” I paused. I should never answer the phone until I’m fully awake. “I’ll let you do your job.”
“If you swear to me that you’re not going to like—sabotage me, or something, then…”
“Then what?” I smiled a bit to myself.
“Then I’ll do it,” Olivia said with a sigh—I knew it was a sigh that time.
“You want me to give you some advice on packing?” I opened my eyes under the sheet and stared at the blue and white stripes of the fabric.
“I think I can manage. Besides, it’s still a couple of weeks away.”
“Pack light,” I suggested. “Get used to the idea that you’re going to be wearing dirty clothes pretty often.” Olivia chuckled, and I felt more relief than I would have liked to admit to.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Olivia said.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I was in the middle of a fantastic dream about being blown while I played the best solo of my life.” Olivia laughed again.
“Go back to sleep then. I’ll see you in a couple of weeks.”
“Not before then? Tease.”
“I never promised to have sex with you again, Nick.”
“You also didn’t promise not to have sex with me again.”
“Go back to sleep.” The phone beeped to tell me the call had ended. I closed my eyes again and let the phone fall onto the pillow behind me as I fell back to sleep.
****
The two weeks flew by for me—like they always did before we left on tour. I went to rehearsals and hung out with the guys and specifically didn’t text Olivia; I knew better than to push my luck with her just then.
“Fuck,” I muttered as I strode up to the tour bus. It was eight in the morning.
“Have a hard night, Nicky?” I glared at Mark, who was practically swinging around a street lamp pole.
“Shut the fuck up. It’s too bright.”
“No wonder I was able to slip out on you.” I looked up and saw Olivia standing a few feet away, a Cafesito Express cup in her hand. I heard Jules and Dan snickering but I couldn’t make myself look at them; I was too busy taking in the sight of Olivia. She had either taken my advice or knew well enough to pack light on her own: I saw a backpack and a carry-on sized rolling bag at her feet. Her magenta hair was tousled, and I thought she might be wearing a little makeup, but not very much. She was wearing jeans and a Raggy Monster tee shirt, with a pair of beat-up Docs, reminding me of my first glimpse of her. She looked a little sleepy, but way more chipper than I felt.
“You’re way too awake for this time of the morning,” I informed her, rubbing at my face.
“Lucky for you that I am,” Olivia said. She bent over and picked something up from off the ground: a takeout tray with paper coffee cups. “The other tray’s in the bus already,” she told me with a shrug.
“Ah, sweet!” Mark lunged forward and claimed one of the cups, returning to his apelike swinging.
“I’m already really liking this ‘embedded journalist’ thing,” Dan said, plucking another one of the cups.
“Alex is on board saying goodbye to Mary,” Olivia said. She held out the tray to me.
“I thought you hated me,” I pointed out, grabbing for one of the last two coffees on the tray. “Black?” Olivia nodded. I took a careful sip from the hole in the plastic top; the coffee flowed into me like fucking manna from heaven.
“I have never said that I hate you,” Olivia countered. “Just that I’m not interested in trying for a relationship with someone who sleeps around.”
“Technically you sleep around too,” I said, pointing at her with the hand holding the coffee cup. “You had a one-night stand with me.” Olivia’s cheeks flushed pink-red. I saw her look at Mark and Dan and then scowl at me. “Oh please.” I gestured to Mark and Dan. “You didn’t think they’d know?”
“Naïve, I guess,” Olivia said, rolling her eyes. “Sleeping with you was a mistake.”
“Was Nicky that bad?” Mark smirked at me.
“Get on the fucking bus,” I told him. Mark shrugged and he and Dan gathered up their things and jogged around to the entrance of the tour bus. “Sleeping with me was a mistake? Are you sure about that?” Olivia shrugged.
“I don’t regret the actual sex itself,” she said slowly. “I regret the fact that I threw caution to the wind and had sex with you because I knew it would be great sex. I compromised on my principles.”
“And now you’ve got a juicy assignment following a band on tour, which will look great in your portfolio.” Olivia’s eyes glinted in the morning light as she glared at me.
“Yeah, and now also everyone is going to figure out that the reason I got this assignment was because I slept with you and you wanted to toy with me some more and probably get in my pants again. Really fantastic for my career there, Nicky.” I laughed.
“Did you really just call me Nicky?” Olivia’s cheeks lit up with an even deeper blush than before.
“Do you have a problem with me calling you that?” Olivia raised an eyebrow in challenge, and I grinned. Fuck she looks so cute like that. So goddamn cute trying not to smile, trying to look tough.
“Nope,” I said. I shifted my backpack straps on my shoulders. “I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t a mistake.” I saw the blood leave her face and then return in a flush that crept up all the w
ay to the roots of her hair. I took another sip of my coffee and walked past her, heading towards the entrance of the tour bus. I grinned to myself as I climbed up the stairs, picturing the look on Olivia’s face. It probably wasn’t the best thing I could have said in the moment, but I couldn’t help myself. Oh yeah. Whether or not she ever has sex with me again, this is going to be a fun tour.
I threw my stuff onto one of the bunks and carried my coffee into the lounge. “Alex, the longer you take to say goodbye to her, the longer it is before you get back,” I said, throwing myself onto the couch carefully.
“How does that math work out?” I shrugged at Dan’s question. “You didn’t already scare Olivia off, did you? Dude—she brought coffee!”
“Yeah, and she’s never going to have sex with you again. It’ll be nice to watch Nicky actually have to try to get in a girl’s pants.” I rolled my eyes.
“I didn’t scare her off,” I said. “If she scares off that easy she wouldn’t last a week on tour no matter what I did.”
“Oh, are there wagers on how long I’ll last on tour?” Olivia appeared at the entrance to the lounge.
“Who told her?”
“I did,” Jules said, coming in behind her. “It only seemed fair, man.”
“Can I get in on the betting pool? It’d be a nice bonus.”
“Nicky isn’t in the pool,” Mark said. “Is it fair for you to be in it?”
“You didn’t bet?” Olivia looked at me sharply. I took my pack of cigarettes out of my pocket and lit one.
“Didn’t seem like the right thing to do,” I said. “Besides, if it ever got back to you, no matter what I bet it’d make me look bad.” Olivia continued to stare at me for a moment longer.