I've got this.
14
Lacey
The parking lot behind the club is sectioned off with those little metal dividers. But this place isn't a venue. This isn't even the club's parking lot. It's one of the city lots where each space costs eight billion dollars a minute.
There are less than a dozen feet between the railing and a line of eager fans. It's past sunset now and the lights are on that side of the sidewalk. I can't pick out any particular faces, but I have a sense of the crowd. There must be a hundred people lined up around this railing. They're screaming all the names of the Wicked Beat guys.
Then they notice the details and they switch to screaming for Dangerous Noise.
All the guys get some attention, but there's no denying that Mal gets the most.
Mal, Mal, Mal!!!!
I LOVE YOU MAL!!!!
I want to be Tied Up with You Mal!
WHEEE! Mal! I want you to Hurt Me, Baby!!!
My legs turn to spaghetti again. I have to slide my arm around Mal's waist for balance. The hard, strong muscles of his abdomen are incredibly distracting. They're right there under his thin t-shirt. They can be mine again soon.
Fuck, my legs really are jelly.
I squeeze him tighter. He pulls me close. Like it's a reflex. Like I'm the girl he wants to protect. Not like we're colleagues or friends or even friends who fuck.
The screaming gets louder. It's more shrieking. I focus on putting one foot in front of the other for the dozen steps to the tour bus. It's huge and purple and incredibly showy.
And it's air conditioned.
Fuck, that feels good.
Slowly, my eyes adjust to the lighting. We're in the front of the bus, two couches set up around a TV. Further back, there's a kitchenette, a bathroom, and a handful of bunks.
One of the Wicked Beat guys is sitting in one of the bunks. His vibrant green eyes pass over us as we file into the bus and cram onto the couches. I take the middle seat of the couch on the left. Mal sits to my right. Joel sits on the other side.
Ethan and Kit are across from me.
I'm surrounded by rock stars on a tour bus.
Either I'
m having some orgy sex dream or I really am directing the next Dangerous Noise video. It doesn't feel real.
Will it ever feel real?
Right now, that seems impossible. I'm floating through a dream of a life—sleeping with the celebrity playboy at his beautiful beach mansion, hanging out with his famous friends, rocking out at shows backstage…
The Wicked Beat guy shakes his head fuck this distraction and pulls the curtain to his bunk closed.
I hike my dress an inch and dig my nails into my skin. Just enough to hurt. Just enough to be sure I'm wide awake.
Something in Mal's posture changes. He's next to me, his deep blue eyes on me. He has some feelings about my is this real coping mechanism. From the furrow in his brow, I'm guessing he doesn't approve.
That's a matter for later.
This is happening.