Page 2 of Dedicated
Stupid.I was irritated with myself all the way down the damn hall.
I slidmy room key from my back pocket and paused outside the door, hearing the elevator doors snick shut behind me. I should’ve been more excited to see Leigh than I was. We’d known each other for years. She shot our first show, but it was only in the last five months that we started dating. She had her own career, traveling the country as a photographer, and lately our schedules aligned less and less. And for some reason I wasn’t bothered by that, but I suspected I should be.
The green light blinked on the door, and I pushed it open, forcing my mouth into a smile even as I wondered if Les and that guy had made it to his room yet. Or if they even would. Les was capricious. His give-a-fuck was a nuclear wasteland where nothing grew. For all I knew, the second the doors slid shut again, Les had pulled the guy’s pants to his knees and fucked him right there in the elevator.
I hated the way the thought soured in my stomach.
“Ev?” Leigh’s voice was soft like a comb of honey warmed in the sunshine. Feminine and familiar. She pushed her laptop aside and slid from the edge of the bed as I came around the corner, her lips curving up in a shy grin. The distance between our visits always made the first five minutes awkward, like we needed some time to resituate ourselves in the relationship.
“How was the show?” she asked as I pulled her into a hug and buried my nose in the scent of her shampoo, trying to drag my mind out of that elevator.
“It was good. I think? I don’t know. I kept seeing the empty seats and the gaps between people.”
She chuckled and stood up on her tiptoes to brush a kiss over my cheek. “I think you’ve been spoiled. I caught a live feed and the crowd looked decent to me.”
“The label’s on our ass constantly. It’s all I can see now. Song downloads, tickets bought.” I exhaled a long breath that ruffled the fine blonde hairs on the crown of her head and then released her so I could flop backward onto the bed
Leigh sprawled next to me, rolling onto her side and running her fingers through my hair. Her touch was light and calming, and as soon as I closed my eyes, exhaustion crashed over me.
“Is Les behaving?”
I nodded without opening my eyes. “You know Les. Caught him on the elevator up with his hands stuffed down some dude’s pants. But Mars hasn’t had to cold shower him in three days.”
She was quiet for a moment, making a face probably. “Typical.”
Leigh knew how Les was. He’d tried to get in her pants the first show she shot for us, and she’d shut him down so soundly he’d spent the next three days soothing his bruised ego with a revolving door of women and men.
Leigh’s lips brushed over mine, her mouth yielding and warm, and I reached for her blindly, eyes still closed as I pulled her on top of me. Maybe I could just bury myself in her for a while. Forget about the show, the road, the last shitty album. She spread her thighs, grinding her hips against me, a quiet hum of pleasure escaping her mouth as I arched into her. Her hands roamed my chest, pushed under my T-shirt, then slid behind my waistband and stopped.
I knew why. My eyes snapped open.
She broke the kiss and straightened, her golden hair falling in a curtain on either side of my face. The tips dusted over my shoulders as her gaze searched mine. She was beautiful: the slight pout of her lips, the big blue eyes. I should be aching to sink inside her and I barely had an erection. Releasing my grip on her thigh, I smeared my hand down my face and shook my head in frustration. Another failure to rise to the occasion. Except it wasn’t funny. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”
Leigh put her hands on my chest and then rolled off me onto her back, frowning up at the ceiling while I studied her profile.
“It’s not you.” It felt like such an ineffective and lame thing to say, but it was true. Had to be. There was nothing wrong with Leigh. Leigh was great.
“I keep telling myself that. That it’s the tour or the album or stress. But shit, Evan, it’s not like this is the first time. And I’m trying to be understanding, but it’s like you can’t relax or can’t let go. With me, at least.”
I drew in a deep breath. “I know. It’s going to get better. Once we get that next album down. I can feel it.”
I didn’t sound very convincing, and she gave me a doubtful look as I leaned over and kissed her again, then pushed the hem of her dress up to expose the tops of her thighs and the lacy band of her panties. I brushed my mouth over her inner thigh. “In the meantime, other parts of me are fully functional.”
* * *
“Haveyou ever considered just going out on your own again? After this next album, I mean?” Leigh asked later, once we were curled in the bed together. I stroked her hair, playing with the ends. It was nice to have someone to lie next to; that part hadn’t changed for me.
The question made me edgy, though. “I don’t know. Somehow it doesn’t feel right.”
“Do you think Les has ever considered it?”
I hated that question, too, because it immediately made me bristle and panic at the same time. Les had never intimated anything of the kind, but then he wouldn’t. Les was a force you’d never see coming or going, and the way this tour was going, it seemed like a possibility.
“Probably, but he hasn’t said anything, and we still owe MGD another album.” I flipped off the light and nestled against Leigh in the darkness, resting a hand on her hip. “Guess I’m just waiting to see how it goes when we sit down to actually write it.”
Leigh found my hand and gave it a light squeeze, making a humming sound as she settled. “I just wish you wouldn’t stress over every little thing.”
She didn’t know the half of it.