Page 137
Story: Broken Bridges
I curled my hand over her injured ankle. It was swollen after too much walking and dancing the night before. “Have you made a decision about the surgery?” She’d been to appointments and had gotten two more professional opinions. They’d agreed more surgery would help.
“Yes.” She swiped her fingertips down my scruffy cheek, tickling the fine hairs and whiskers above my lip. “I have to do it. It won’t make it any worse, but the chance to be better is too enticing. I’ll be zooming to rehearsals in a wheelchair for a while. And you’ll have to wait on me hand and foot. That okay?”
“Always.” I slid my hand up the back of her leg. Each touch of her skin ignited my blood, sent it rushing toward my dick. “There is one more thing I need to take care of.”
“What’s that?” Her eyes glittered in the soft morning light.
“You were horny before.”
“Still am.”
My dick jumped from half-mast to full hoist. “So am I.” I crawled to the end of her feet, tugged off her panties, then pulled her flat onto the bed. Nestling between her legs, I buried myself inside her.
Fuck!
Life couldn’t get much better than this.
But...I was wrong.
Chapter 41
LEWIS
By the end of September, our set list had been finalized, stage construction for full rehearsals had been built, merchandise had been approved, and marketing schedules were set for the kickoff of our global tour in November. But before we entered full tour mode, we had to deliver a gig Flint had promised Molly, the manager at Hayley’s Bar in Pasadena.
I didn’t miss the days of playing at small venues, but Molly was cool. The guys would do anything for her.
“Holy shit!” I gaped out the window of the SUV as we approached the bar. The traffic was bumper-to-bumper, and the massive line of people snaked from the entrance, through the parking lot, and out onto the street. “You said this was a small gig. Three hundred, max.” I planted a play-punch into the side of Flint’s thigh.
“It was supposed to be.” Flint’s energy jumped as he surveyed the crowd. “Guess word got out we were performing.”
Yeah, that happened when we posted the details on social media.
Butterflies swirled in my stomach as security waved our driver through the sea of people and we pulled up outside the back door. The fans waved and screamed and took photos of us. “This is unbelievable.”
For a small bar, this was insane. They’d be turning away people at the door.
“This is a warmup for the tour. Get used to it.” The buzz coming off Cole was electrifying. He loved this life. I couldn’t blame him. I did too.
“Let’s rock this joint.” Slip opened the door and jumped out.
Another security guard ushered us inside and into the green room.
I hadn’t seen Tia since we’d done soundcheck earlier that afternoon. She’d be out in the bar area at the mixer. She’d had ankle surgery three weeks ago but zoomed around in her funky wheelchair like she played center for the paralympic basketball team. Crazy woman. But I loved her. She should be at home resting, but no one could tell Tia what to do. She’d insisted on coming to the show. With Gena on maternity leave, Falcon had hired Kieran, an experienced sound and lighting engineer, to head our technical team for the tour. Poor guy had to teach Tia everything he knew. Good thing they got on like a house on fire.
The loud chatter from the crowd and music playing in the bar reverberated in the tiny green room. Blake, Falcon, and April huddled near the sofa, talking away as they typed on their cell phones. They thrived on the pre-show hype as much as we did.
Five minutes before showtime, the guys and I helped each other put on our transmitters and thread our in-ear monitor cords through our shirts.
As I clipped my transmitter onto my belt, Flint squeezed my shoulder. “Ready to rock this joint?”
“Yes.” I clapped and rubbed my hands together. “Let’s go.” Nerves no longer crippled me before taking to the stage. I nailed every track when we played, even “Changes”. I couldn’t wait to perform with these guys.
As Blake led us out of the room and toward the stage, Flint stepped in beside me. “Oh. Forgot to tell you. We made a change to the set list for song five. Just go with the flow. It’s for someone special here tonight.” He rushed forward to catch up to Blake.
My pulse spiked. “Who?” I called out to Flint. “What change? What song are we playing instead?” Fuck!
“You got this, Lew.” Cole glided past me. “It’s all good.”
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