Page 27 of Don't Fall For A Rockstar

NATE

CHICAGO

After my call with Tommy—and an intense orgasm that totally wiped me out—I crashed hard.

When I woke up, I noticed our bus was no longer moving. Glancing at my phone, I realized it was just after 11 AM, central time. We’d arrived in Chicago already. I should’ve closed my eyes and tried to fall back asleep, but it was useless. Once I was up, I was up.

I stretched—well, as much as I could in this bunk—and ignored my morning wood.

But I couldn’t ignore the furious pounding of my heart. And the warm ache that had settled in my chest when I thought about last night. About Tommy. A longing swelled up inside of me like a rising tide, so sharp and powerful it left me breathless.

Tommy admitted he was falling for me. And I was sure as fuck falling for him.

Part of me still couldn’t believe it. And I had no idea how this was gonna play out.

Instead of worrying about ‘what ifs,’ I got my ass up and padded to the bathroom. The voices of my bandmates drifted down the hallway, along with the smell of coffee and bacon.

Once I’d showered and changed into baggy jeans and a clean T-shirt, I headed down to the front of the bus. Looking out the window, I realized we were parked in a lot. Usually at the back of whatever venue we were playing.

Otis, Xander, and Heath were already sitting around the table in the kitchen, having breakfast. Otis was, as usual, eating and talking at the same time. Or rather, eating and arguing with Heath.

Heath, who was tatted from head to toe, and, unlike the rest of us, kept his hair long on top and shaved on the sides, was fidgeting as usual. The man was never content to sit still, and now he was using his utensils to tap out a rhythm on the table. I swear he never stopped moving, even in sleep.

Xander was the quietest of all of us. And often the peacemaker when things got heated, as they often do in bands. He was eating his breakfast and watching Otis and Heath banter, his long braids bouncing with every turn of his head.

“Morning,” I muttered and headed straight for the coffee machine.

A fancy one with a milk steamer and everything. I was liking this tour bus more and more. And a double espresso was needed. Stat.

“Can you make me another espresso?” Otis called out.

“Get your own,” I grumbled, even though I reached for a second cup. Morning was not my jam. Not until I had caffeine and carbs. I moved mechanically, getting the coffee started, while reaching for the bowl of brown sugar.

“It’s the least you can do, seeing as you kept me awake with your sex noises.”

Xander and Heath chuckled along with Otis.

I bent over and shoved my ass out. “Kiss this.”

“Isn’t that Tommy’s job?”

I turned around, my face heated, and glared at my friend.

“What?” he said as he shoved in a piece of bacon. “Ain’t no secrets on this bus. We all heard you. And him.”

“It was so freaking hot,” Xander added as he pulled at his t-shirt.

“But you might want to save the screaming for the stage tonight,” Heath quipped.

I gave them all my best fingers, then turned back to finish making the coffee. I added sugar to both cups and took a long sip of mine. Okay, now I was ready. Sort of.

With cups in hand, I walked over and sat down with the guys.

“Let’s get all the filthy details,” Heath encouraged, motioning with his fork.

“I thought you heard them last night?” I returned with a smirk.

I took another sip of my coffee and sighed with pleasure. It was smooth and sweet; just like a certain roadie I couldn’t stop thinking about.

---