Backstage Pass (Sinners on Tour 1)

He glanced at the ceiling, his expression thoughtful. “How far is it from Des Moines to Kansas City?”

“Des Moines? We’re in Chicago, sweetie.” She smiled. “Have you lost track of where you are?”

“No, tonight we’re driving to Des Moines for tomorrow’s show. Maybe you’d like to stay the night with me on the bus and leave from Des Moines in the morning.”

Her heart thudded with excitement. In three short hours, she could drive from Des Moines to Kansas City. When she realized it wasn’t actual y feasible, her heart sank. “I can’t. I need my car.”

“One of the roadies can fol ow the buses with your car. They’re used to driving al night.”

“I suppose that would work.” She smiled, her loneliness evaporating instantly. “I’d very much like to stay the night with you, Brian.”

He moved toward her, where she sat on the edge of the bed, and eased her to her feet. He drew her body against his and kissed her deeply. She shuddered, stil excited by his stage performance.

There was another knock at the door. Brian stiffened and broke the contact between his lips and Myrna’s.

“Sheezus,” Brian muttered under his breath. “What?” he yel ed at the door.

The door opened and Sed ducked his head in. “You busy?”

“I was about to get that way.”

“I think you’ve hogged the bedroom for long enough.”

“The other bus—”

“Trey’s occupied over there. Besides, you promised.”

“Yeah, I know.” He looked down at Myrna. “Let’s go get your car.”

She nodded, positioning her partial y naked body behind Brian so that he blocked her from Sed’s view. “Just let me get dressed.”

“Two minutes.” Brian held up two fingers in Sed’s direction.

Sed closed the door. Brian pecked her on the cheek and retrieved her blouse from the floor.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “I promised him he could have the bedroom tonight. Of course, that was before I knew you’d be staying. Ah…. shit.”

“It’s okay. We can just hang out. I’m fine with that.”

He smiled broadly. “Real y? That sounds nice, actual y.”

She slid into her blouse and skirt, buttoning and tucking as fast as she could. Brian pul ed his T-shirt over his head. He reached for her hand and led her to the door. Exiting the room, they continued down the narrow hal , flanked on either side by bunks concealed behind curtains, and into the main room. Myrna counted eight people. Sed, three girls, Eric, and a few roadies.

“Al yours, Sed,” Brian said.

Sed picked up the nearest girl, tossed her over his shoulder and headed down the hal toward the bedroom. The attractive young woman squealed in delight as he burst through the door and tossed her on the bed. The other two girls and Eric fol owed in their wake, excitement emanating from their bodies.

Myrna must have looked as stunned as she felt. Brian laughed at her expression.

“He’s always like that,” Brian said. “I’m surprised he didn’t just burst in on us earlier. It’s not like Sed to knock.”

“Sed’s reputation precedes him for a reason,” one of the roadies said. He could have passed as a member of the band himself. Tattooed. Dark hair. Sunglasses at night. Chains, piercings, and muscular.

“Who’s driving tonight, Travis?” Brian asked.

“I’ve got the truck. Matt the other bus. I think Dave’s driving this one.” He nodded at the normal looking blond guy to his left. Dave gave a curt nod.

Brian turned toward a third roadie, who was without a driving assignment. “Jake, would you do me a favor?”

“Anything,” he said without batting an eyelash.

“Myrna needs someone to drive her car to Des Moines.”

Jake smiled slyly. “I see. Sure, no problem.” Tal and slim, sporting a short mohawk hairstyle, he looked down at Myrna. “Where’s your car?”

“It’s out in the parking lot. I’l go get it,” she said. “Should I just park it outside the bus and give you the keys?”

“That would be perfect. It isn’t some lame minivan, is it?”

“Erm… ’57 Ford Thunderbird convertible. I just had her restored to mint. You’l be gentle, won’t you? I’m sort of protective of her.”

“Sweet,” Dave said. “I’l trade you, Jake. You can drive the bus. I’l take the Thunderbird!”

“Hel , no,” Jake said. “Brian asked me.”

“I must warn you that it’s pink,” Myrna interrupted.

“Pink? Aw, how could you do that to a classic car?” Jake said, running a hand over his forehead and mohawk. She laughed. “I am a girl, you know.”

“I’m pretty sure everyone here recognizes that,” Brian said into her ear. Her entire body throbbed in response to his low voice.

“I’ve got no problem with pink,” Dave said, his blue eyes wide with eagerness. Dave looked like a clean-cut kid. Myrna wondered how long he’d been working with the band. Jake, on the other hand, looked wild. Based on looks alone, Myrna would prefer Dave drove her car, but she knew that wasn’t fair. The roadies al worked hard, and the band trusted them with expensive equipment and their lives. “Trade me, Jake. Come on, dude. You like to drive the bus and you know I hate it.”

“You two fight this out,” Brian said. “We need to go get the car before it’s time to leave. Is the truck loaded?”

“I suppose we should get to work,” Dave said.

“Whoever gets their equipment loaded first gets to drive the T-bird,” Jake said. He pushed open the bus door and headed down the stairs.

“Hey, that’s no fair,” Dave cal ed after him. “I’m in charge of the drums! There are, like, a mil ion of them!”

Jake’s voice grew more distant as he walked away from the bus, cal ing over his shoulder, “Yeah, but I’ve got amps in addition to Trey’s guitars. Quit complaining.”

“Let’s go,” Brian said.

“Wait,” she said. “I need my suit jacket. My keys are in it.”

He waited for her to put on her jacket, then took her hand in his and helped her climb down the steep steps to the pavement. The crowd outside the barriers was thinner than earlier, but when Brian stepped off the bus, they emitted a loud cheer.