The familiar dread rises inside me. Whenever I get an unsolicited message, I block the number, but these assholes keep finding new phones or switching SIM cards because it doesn’t seem to stop them from getting through again. I swipe to open the screen, and a whoosh of breath passes through my lips when I see Jordy’s name; my best friend whose been with me through the best of times and the worst. Mainly the worst. Thank God it’s not another gross dick pic.
Are you there? What’s it like?
She has a copy of my itinerary, mostly, so she understands the different time zones and when I’m performing. I don’t want her to think I’m ignoring her when I’m probably on a plane or shaking my ass on a stage somewhere.
I’m here, and it’s ridiculous.
I take a picture of the marble bathroom, complete with a freestanding tub, a walk-in shower that could accommodate the seven men sharing this suite and me, and a double vanity with brushed bronze taps, and what looks like an antique mirror.
She replies with the shocked emoji head, and I can imagine that expression overlaid on her real face.
Are you nervous about tomorrow?
I leave the bathroom, replying as I walk.
Nah. I’m ready for it.
I’m not really. I’m fucking terrified that I’m going to fall over, or my voice is going to sound terrible. Maybe they’ll get the sound wrong, and I won’t be able to hear myself over the band. I’ve seen many musicians fall foul to that one. But I won’t admit that to Jordy. Showing confidence, even when it’s a mask, helps me convince myself that I can do it.
You’re going to be awesome. She finishes the message with a clapping hands, and a star eyes emoji, and I slide into bed, flicking off the light before I reply.
I really hope so. Night J. I’ll call you when I can.
As I’m plugging in my phone to charge overnight, I hear laughter from beyond my room. Intrigued, I slide back out of bed and pad quickly across the hardwood floor until I’ve pressed my head against the door. What I hear is a conversation about me between Jax and Hudson that blows my mind.
Jax is interested in me. I guess I knew that. I’ve seen his warm brown eyes lingering on parts of me that should be off limits. I’ve seen the way his gaze drifts to my lips when I’m talking, as though he’s imagining kissing them, or maybe having them wrapped around parts of his body that I shouldn’t be thinking about.
A shiver of arousal passes up my spine and over my scalp. It’s almost like I can feel his fingers trailing my skin.
I ache for physical touch. It’s been so long since I rested in the arms of someone that loved me.
To be honest, my brothers are the only ones who ever gave me that kind of pure affection. Any guy I’ve been with since hasn’t had the right connection outside of the sex, and I gave up looking when I realized that real love is hard to find.
I don’t have it in me to give more of myself. There isn’t enough to go around as it is.
But the way Jax talks is with intention. It’s with thoughts about the kind of future that he wants. The kind of connection he wants.
He’s always such a joker that it surprises me to hear him be so serious. It surprises me, even more, when he talks about Tyler’s poly relationship with Sandy and his friends as though it’s something he can see the merits in.
I can see them too, but I’m a woman who’s desperate for stability, love, and affection. I want to make the kind of home that I never had as a kid. It seems like Jax does too, but it would take a lot of convincing for seven men to want to share one woman. I find myself shaking my head at the very thought.
Playing with the silver chain at my neck, I picture Sandy at the center of six good men who love her, and my throat aches with longing for the same thing.
Stupid thoughts.
I could never be enough for seven men. If my own mom and dad couldn’t give me love, how could I expect seven men who are effectively strangers to go there?
Love might not be on the cards, but I’m sure of one thing. If I offered sex, they’d be tempted. Their lingering eyes tell me as much.
When I was just Luna Evans who sang on street corners, I would never have considered pushing for what I want or need. I let the world drag me around by the collar and I waited for other people to offer what they thought was important to me.
Now I’m a headline act, on a huge tour, with crazy perverted stalkers trying to infiltrate my life, and as fucked up as it sounds in my head, somehow now, I want to start taking the bull by the horns. I want to push forward to fulfill some of my dreams and indulge in some of my cravings.