A soft touch on his back alerted him to Mish’s closeness. “You fine with us?” In the quiet of the bus, the others had to have heard. But they were minding their business.
“Yeah.” He was. Mostly. “You’re a hell of a woman. I’m honored.” He paused. “Dating’s gonna make the job interesting, I can’t lie about that. But I’ll have your back, and the band’s, too.”
“Good.” She dropped a brief kiss on his lips. “Don’t think I don’t know what you did for me tonight.”
“Your bandmates love you, too, you know.” The words came out before he even considered the meaning. Shit. Because it was still too soon for his heart to be so involved.
She leaned in and kissed him on the forehead. “I know.” That seemed to be an answer for both what he’d said and what he insinuated. “Come have some water. Wind down with us. Pretty sure we’re all gonna crash soon.”
They ended up spread out among the couches and the table by the coffeepot and sink, chatting about nothing in particular until yawns and bleary eyes overtook David. He rose, gave Mish a quick kiss, then excused himself to finish his nightly routine and crawl into his berth.
The rumble of the road threatened to pull him down into sleep almost as soon as he hit the mattress, but a thought kept him awake and peering up at the dark, close roof above his head. He was dating Mish Sullivan. Openly.
There was the media to contend with, but in the grand scheme of things, they were harmless.
Mish’s stalker wasn’t going to take kindly to her change in relationship status. That drove fear deep into David’s heart. This wasn’t a job anymore. The whole thing was so far from a job that he felt unmoored for the first time in years.
He flattened his hand over his chest where his tags would’ve been, if they weren’t on Marly, and that brought a kind of comfort—soon those would be with Mish in the little cubicle she’d sleep in.
A little piece of David, close to her heart.
Chapter Eighteen
The delicious aroma of Adrian’s magical coffee roused Mish from her sleep, though the rumble of the bus and the soft feel of Marly pressed against her neck enticed her to stay curled up in her pod until she identified the voices murmuring softly at the front of the bus. Adrian, of course, but also Zavier, and the voice she’d come to love so much: David.
She couldn’t make out the words, but the usual thrum of snark and laughter were missing, and that set her on edge. So much for relaxing.
She checked the time on her phone, gave Marly a boop on the nose, then crawled out of her berth. “Please tell me there’s a mug of Adrian’s coffee with my name on it.”
“I didn’t see any mugs with your name on them, but get me a Sharpie and I can fix that.” David rose from his seat and headed for the coffeepot.
“Now there’s a thought,” Zavier said. “Individualized mugs. Maybe Ray’d stop stealing mine.”
“Never in a million years.” Adrian clicked off his phone. “Besides, you like it when he steals your things.”
Zav’s smile was all devil. “Yes, I do.”
David handed her a mug of deep, rich coffee and she inhaled. “God, I feel like I’m in one of those old coffee ads.” She sank onto one of the couches. “Best part of waking up.”
“I’m honored to jog a jingle memory.” Adrian grinned.
The banter died immediately, like the guys didn’t know what to say. Something big hung over all their heads. Fuck.
Mish sipped her coffee and peered at the men around her. “Okay, so what happened?”
David looked all kinds of unhappy, and even the normally unflappable Zavier squirmed. Adrian turned his phone on, tapped at the screen, then handed it over.
She set the mug aside and took the phone. An email. She skimmed the contents and cringed. Yup. Her stalker. More orders she didn’t read as she scrolled. At the bottom was a photo of her and David, from after he’d finished singing, when they’d kissed. She handed the phone back to Adrian and wished she could unsee the email.
Her next swallow of coffee was larger. “Well, we expected photos to be out on social media. I’m not surprised he emailed.” Revolted, but not shocked. “I didn’t read the message, though. Guessing it’s the usual?”
David nodded. “I am not nearly man enough for you as well.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she muttered, and downed another gulp of coffee.
“Thing is, he doesn’t know I’m trans, so that was normal masculine bullshit. Comments would have been worse if he knew.” David refilled his mug, then sat next to her. “You okay?”
“Like I said, I figured this would happen. I have no regrets.” Mish patted David’s thigh. “Except that we’re on a bus and I couldn’t take you to my room last night.” She cupped a hand around his neck and pulled him into a lingering kiss.
When they came up for air, David chuckled. Adrian was smiling, and Zav’s grin was more smug than usual. She mock glared at him. “What?”
“Nothing.” Zavier drank his coffee. “Just wondering if you took my advice.”
Oh god, that man.
“Advice?” Of course David asked.
“Zav said to become friends first. I think we managed that.”
“Friends before love?”
“Friends before anything serious,” Zavier said. “You’ll have to ask someone else about love.”
“You really did get married for tax purposes?”
That made Zavier laugh, and pretty loudly, too. “Well, and wanting Ray and his friendship for the rest of my life, yes.”
David, nodded. “I understand that.”
A moan rose from Dom’s bunk. “Jesus, some of us need our beauty sleep.”
Adrian sauntered over to the berth and opened the curtain a sliver. “Eh, you’re cute as you are. There’s coffee if you want to get up.”
“Fine,” Dom said.
This was what she needed. Her lover. Her band. The banter of family. Mish shoved that email away. They had a show tonight—that was the important thing. The tour and her family.
“Speaking of beauty rest, where is our fearless leader?” Everyone was up but Ray.
Zavier twisted his mouth. It didn’t hide his worried expression. “When I prodded him this morning, he groaned and buried his head under the pillow. I hope he’s just tired from our night of fun.”
God. Mish prayed that was the case as well. But Ray had taunted the gods of touring earlier. She matched Zavier’s expression.
“What?” David’s question was spoken softly.
She wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “I’m sure Zavier wore him out dancing, that’s all.” She would not think of Ray being sick. Would not.
Zavier’s mouth quirked, as if he wanted to say more but thought the better of it.
She jostled David. “You’re not upset that your singing is out there on the internet, are you? Or...us?”
David bobbed his head side to side. “Not upset. It’s strange to hear my voice, though. Last time I heard a recording of my singing, I had a different range.” He sipped his coffee. “And I’m not upset at being seen kissing you.”
She laughed, despite the rock in her stomach. Someone else was upset at David kissing her, but she wouldn’t let that fucker spoil all she’d worked for. Nor what she wanted. David was a gift that had emerged out of this mess—and she’d take that.
Another round of coffee for all of them led to a discussion of the perfect karaoke songs, until a raspy cough from the bunks sent a shiver of fear down Mish’s spine.
Oh no. No, no. Ray was not sick. He couldn’t be sick.
When Ray emerged from his bunk, he looked groggier than he should’ve. Zavier was on his feet in an instant, but Ray waved him away. “Just need coffee.” His voice was only thin air and the expression that crossed his face after was one of pure dismay. “Oh shit.”
/>
Oh shit, indeed. Mish leaned against David, and he looked worried, too.
Zavier felt Ray’s forehead. “You’re warm.”
Fuck.
They still had a concert that night. They could cancel, but no one wanted that, least of all Ray. Mish rose and poured Ray a cup of coffee. Both Adrian and Dom had tight, horrified expressions.
Ray pushed Zavier back a few inches. “I just got up.” That came out of him in a whisper. “I’m fine.”
Zavier snatched the coffee from Mish’s hand. “You’re not fine. And you’re going back to bed.”
Ray’s mouth set into a firm line. He glared at Zavier, then pried the coffee from him and took a sip, then another. “Look,” he said, and his voice sounded stronger, “in this, you don’t get to be the master. It’s still the band, and I’m still the leader.”
Every muscle in Zavier’s body tightened and he huffed before stomping off to the back of the bus.
Ray shut his eyes. “I adore him,” he murmured. “I do. I do.”
Dom shifted on the couch. “You’ll kill your voice if you sing tonight.”
Ray met Dom’s stare and nodded, but shrugged. Likely trying not to talk too much. Rest the voice.
“What are you gonna do, right?” Mish spoke the words that were likely on Ray’s tongue.
A wan smile, but he tapped his head.
“You’ve got an idea?” Mish patted the seat next to David. “You wanna sit down and drink your coffee? I can talk to Zavier.”
She couldn’t describe the complicated expression the passed over Ray’s face, but he sat. Then tapped her arm and nodded at the back of the bus.
She gave David’s shoulder a squeeze. “Watch over him, huh?”
David nodded and Ray rolled his eyes before sipping more coffee.
Mish steeled herself and headed to the back. Wasn’t surprised to find Zavier pacing the small length of the lounge, but it wasn’t anger emanating from him, it was worry.
“Zavier,” she said.
He didn’t look up. “He’s sick. He needs to rest.”
“He’s Ray and we’re on tour. You think a cold is going to stop him, honey?”
Zavier halted and met Mish’s gaze.
Oh yeah, this man was one giant bundle of angst. She beckoned him forward, and he gave a kind of frustrated grunt before stepping into her arms. “He’s gonna be fine, sweetheart. It’s a cold. He’ll dose up on lemon tea, pantomime things for a couple of hours, scribble in that journal of his, and we’ll do some longer solos. It’s happened before. He says he doesn’t get sick, but that boy has a short memory.”
“He hasn’t been sick while I’ve been here.” His voice was muffled against her shoulder.
“I’m sure he’s gotten a cold.”
“Sure. At home. Where I can take care of him.” Zavier pulled back. “It’s foolish, but I—don’t do well when he’s ill.”
No shit. “It’s not foolish, not after what we went through, what you went through.”
That elicited a painful smile. “He’s right to be mad at me. I can’t protect him from everything.”
“If you could keep people from getting a cold, we could make a lot more money bottling you up and selling you on the open market.”
That got her an actual laugh.
She patted his shoulder. “And yeah, he’s right to be annoyed, but he says he has a plan. Wanna go see what your husband’s got up his sleeve?”
“All right. Just—I worry so much about him, you know?”
“You two are the most important people in each other’s lives, Zav. Of course you worry. Ray knows that. But he’s right about being the leader. And we do have a concert tonight. He needs your support.”
Zavier scrubbed a hand over his face. “Fuck. Okay.”
When they returned to the front of the bus, Ray was typing away on Adrian’s tablet. David rose, and Zavier took his seat next to Ray. “Apologies,” he said.
A smile tugged at Ray’s lips, and he stopped typing. He took Zavier’s hand in his own and pressed his lips to Zavier’s knuckles. That seemed to unlock the tension in Zav.
Mish’s own tension ebbed, even more so when David wrapped an arm around her waist. “They’re adorable together,” he said close to her head.
“Heard that,” Zavier muttered.
Ray blew out a breath and thrust Adrian’s tablet into Zavier’s hands.
Zavier read what Ray’d typed. “Well, that’ll work.”
“What?” The word out of Mish’s lips was echoed by Dom. Zavier handed her the tablet first.
She read Ray’s missive. Then a second time. Her heart and head both warred with a reaction, though her stomach had settled for gymnastics.
“You want me to sing? Like...all the songs?” Her voice pitched strangely, which she hated. David gave her a squeeze. Supportive. Warm. She was so thankful that he was here with them. The fear inside her, the little voice from her past and that big fucking annoying one from the present whispered that girls—women—like her couldn’t do what Ray asked. One song was one thing. An entire show?
“Technically, Ray suggested most of them,” Zavier said.
That wasn’t better. She leaned on David. “Most, then.”
“Um, guys?” Dom held out his hand.
“Sorry.” Mish handed the tablet over. “Little shocked here.”
Didn’t take Dom long to read. “Yeah, I can see why. But Ray’s right. This is gonna work.”
Beneath the initial shock bubbled something else: excitement. Pride. Confidence that shattered and hushed the words in the back of her head. Ray was right. The fans would love it.
She could do what Ray asked—fill in as lead singer.
They hashed out the rest of the plan. Ray’d rest his voice—dose up on lemon tea and honey—and he’d sing a few of the songs. The rest would be Mish’s. They worked up a set list with songs her range could handle well—and ones for Ray that wouldn’t shred his voice.
Luckily, they had a small break between this show and the next. Hopefully that would give Ray enough time to recover.
When they finished, Ray sat back against the couch, obviously relieved.
Goddamn, singing tonight would be fun. Yeah, she could do this. They could do this. “This is gonna work.”
Dom cracked a brilliant smile. “Damn straight!”
“Ain’t nothing straight about this band, honey.”
David nearly snorted his coffee at that. “Oh my god. True, but warn a guy before you say something like that.” He dabbed a hand at his beard, then got up to grab a paper towel.
Mish eyed Adrian. “Not a word on the ’net, though.”
He laid his hand over his heart. “I know better than to let something this big out of the bag!”
One of Ray’s shit-eating grins split his face.
The moment reached up and grabbed Mish so hard her breath caught. For one night, she’d be the voice of Twisted Wishes. She stood and set her mug in the sink. “David? Can I talk to you for a moment in the back?”
Smart man that he was, he rose and placed his mug in the sink as well. “Whatever you need.”
She needed him, in so many ways it wasn’t funny. But that would have to wait until they weren’t sharing a bus with her bandmates. Sure, the others fooled around quietly and she’d been known to rub one out in silence, but if she was going to jump David’s bones, she wanted loud, wall-banging sex.
She wasn’t above bringing him to his knees, though.
Thankfully, the others kept their mouths shut while she and David made their way to the lounge. She pulled the privacy curtain closed and turned to find David watching her. Mish gestured at the couch, and he took a seat. She chose to stand straddling his legs, and leaned over him, her hands to either side of his head. “I really really want to fuck you right now.”
His lips parted before he swallowed and spoke. “You can, if you’d like.”
“Thing is, I’m noisy and I like making you scream.” She leaned down a little. “I don’t want to share those with the others up there.”
His breath hitched. “Oh.” His gaze never left hers, his eyes nearly black in the dim light of the lounge.
His strength would never stop heating her blood, the assuredness that allowed him to surrender to her desires. “How quiet can you be, David?”
A cocky smile. “As quiet as you want me, darling.”
Maybe they could play. Her body hummed like a transformer, and she didn’t want that to end, the power there. Creativity. Exhilaration and control. “I want to see you come,” she murmured. “I want you to jack off right here, right now. I want to see how much you need me.”
That earned her a long exhale. “Baby, I can do that. Question is, can you be quiet watching me?” He worked open the tie on his sweatpants, staring up at her.
God, it was glorious to watch, too. The way he shifted on the couch to give himself more access, how he slipped his packer out and set it aside with care. The flicker of his eyelids when he started to stroke. His head lolled back against the seat.
She leaned in and kissed his chin and jaw, his wiry beard rough against her lips. David’s breathing shifted, but that was all the noise he made. Mish climbed onto the couch, still straddling David as he worked his cock. Their lips brushed, and she moaned from the taste of coffee and desperation, and combed her hands into his hair.
His lips beneath hers slid into a smile, so she bit the lower one gently, then drew back. “I never said I’d be quiet. Only that you should be.”
The response was a silent laugh that morphed into a soundless moan when she tightened her fingers in his locks. David’s breathing stuttered. Gorgeous. Perfect.
“Yeah, that’s what I want to see,” she whispered. “You falling apart for me.”
His eyes met hers again, wide and lovely, face flushed, lips plump and inviting. She took them into a hard kiss that had her moaning, even as he rocked beneath her. His need for air between bites and tongue thrusts, how his body shook—she knew he was close.
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