“What happened out there?” Justin asked after the show. He wiped sweat from his brow with the towel draped over his shoulders.
I zipped my guitar case and shook my head ruefully. “Sorry, man. My bad. The lyrics that came to my head weren’t yours, and I didn’t want to mess you up too.”
Total excuse and I should have been ashamed to use it, but thankfully, Justin left it alone.
“Hmph. We need to get the kinks worked out.” Justin clapped my shoulder, but instead of moving on, he inched closer. “Is everything cool with you and T?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“You gave him a pretty intense look out there. Don’t mess with him, Dec.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard. You have a history of twisting situations to fit whatever works best for you personally. This boyfriend BS…don’t think about making it into something it’s not. I can just see Xena having a fucking field day with this.”
“Fuck off, Justin,” I hissed.
He didn’t back off. He crossed his arms and glared. “I’m not kidding. Not even a little. I trust Charlie to do the right thing by Scratch Records. I don’t trust you. Stick to Charlie’s script, or don’t do it at all.”
I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists. I wanted to fucking punch him when he shot a phony smile my way before heading toward the Zero camp backstage.
This wasn’t one of my better nights. I never flubbed lyrics. Ever. I didn’t know what my problem was.
“I can’t decide if that was a genius move or if we’re screwed,” Tegan said in a casual low voice outside the buses later that night.
“We’re screwed,” I deadpanned.
“You were trying so hard not to give me goo-goo eyes that you ended up giving me ‘fuck you’ eyes instead.”
I snorted. “Yeah, they got the intonation wrong. It wasn’t a ‘fuck you, hate you’ look. It was a real ‘I want to fuck you’ look.”
Tegan shot an amused sideways glance my way. “You want my ass?”
“You know I do,” I singsonged, looking straight ahead.
Tegan grinned and looked away. He zipped his jacket when the wind whistled through the parking lot and stuffed his hands deeper into his pockets.
“Fuck, it’s cold out here.”
“Good idea. Talk about the weather.” I waited a beat and added, “My balls are blue.”
Tegan chuckled. “And how’s your dick?”
“He’s kind of pint-sized right now,” I admitted, glancing around the parking lot.
A couple of the guys were tossing a football around, some huddled around smoking their last cigarettes before turning in for the night while the rest of us lingered near the buses till it was time to get on the road again. We’d hung out in the bar area of the venue till closing. The plan was to drive all night and make a hotel stop for showers and breakfast, then do it all over again.
Tegan yawned. “I’m gonna turn in. I know I can’t do this, but if I could, I’d bite your lip, stick my tongue down your throat, and my hands in your back pockets. You’re a sexy motherfucker.”
I flashed a megawatt grin at him. “So are you. By the way, he’s quart-sized right now.”
He glanced at my crotch quickly and smirked. “Good to know, McNamara.”
“Later, Monroe.”
I pulled my cell from my jacket and made a show of checking messages to avoid staring at Tegan’s ass as he disappeared onto Zero’s bus. A text from Xena sent two hours ago lit up my screen.
I saw your show on YouTube. I see what Charlie’s doing and it isn’t working. It’s not too late to join me, Dec. I have something you might want to see.
Okay, I admit I was curious. Not because I wanted to see anything she had to show me, but because I was wary as hell. The mental hopscotch was fucking exhausting. The music was all that mattered.
I repeated that to myself a few times before typing, You have nothing I want. Thanks anyway.
That should do it, I mused.
The next morning, she sent me a photo my mom took of us at the banquet I brought Xena to last year. My arm was on her chair, but it looked like it was around her. We were leaning into each other, but that was because my mom didn’t want her colleague in the background. We were laughing at my stepdad’s attempt to take over when my mom couldn’t get her flash to work. The end result…we looked like a happy young couple on a date.
I was pretty sure I’d seen the photo. It hadn’t registered as significant at all. And it wasn’t. But in an age where anything could be misconstrued, relabeled, and given a new spin, this could be trouble. I forwarded the messages and photos to Charlie and waited for instructions.
Tegan
By the time we reached the halfway mark of our tour, we’d all found our groove. We were a well-oiled machine. Not a minute wasted, not a note out of place.