Page 86 of The First Chord

“You do understand why I don’t want us to sleep together on the bus, don’t you?” I asked, suddenly worrying about it.

“God, yes,” he replied, kissing me softly on the lips. “Absolutely do. Besides, you have to admit, getting fingered on the sofa is a lot of fun.”

At that moment, a huge fart erupted from the front of the bus.

“And so fucking romantic,” Ronnie hissed, and we both collapsed into a fit of giggles.

It might not have been the best place, with a flatulating driver a few feet away, but I wouldn’t change it for anything. I wouldn’t swap that moment for a thousand with Jimmy and I’d loved him with all my heart once upon a time. So, what did that say about my feelings for Ronnie Dwyer, the best chord player in the world?

CHAPTER37

RONNIE

Watching Amber stand next to Jimmy Fox made me want to puke. It stunk that she had to do it, especially when I knew she was hating every single second. I knew because she told me, but also because she was threading her fingers together and chewing at the side of her mouth. A couple of the things I’d learned about her. She fidgeted when she was nervous, bounced her leg when she was excited, and chewed on her mouth and twisted her fingers when she was feeling uncomfortable.

“If you carry on looking at her like that, he’ll realise what’s going on,” Elliot whispered.

We were on the red carpet for a music awards event in Munich and Blind Devil, as an up-and-coming band, had been invited to attend with us. Amber had thought she could cry off, seeing as Amelie had left the tour to do a photoshoot in Australia, but Concepta had insisted.

“You know I’m beginning to think Concepta are fucking with us on purpose.”

Elliot flashed a smile at a camera and then said, “Why?”

I lowered my head so that no one could lip read, as they were often desperate enough to do. “Insisting all the time that she attends stuff with him. He’s not even that fucking good.”

“Yep, I agree, but Ali said he’s popular with the girls and women and sells more merch than the rest of them put together.”

We both turned and smiled as our names were called by another photographer, with Beau and Joey doing pretty much the same thing further up the carpet.

“I just want to go public and tell everyone what a vile human being he really is,” I ground out between gritted teeth. “I fucking hate how everyone thinks he some kind of god.”

“Not everyone,” Elliot replied, from behind his hand. “The reviews in Poland were brutal.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you down half a bottle of vodka and smoke a doobie just before you go on stage.”

“I thought Beau was going to kill him, never mind Ali and Destiny.”

“The lead singers union will probably throw him out once Member Bradley puts in a complaint.”

Elliot grinned and I couldn’t help but join him. Beau did have quite a high opinion of lead singers and the example that they should set. They were the most important person as far as he was concerned, which was crap because it was most definitely the bassist.

We carried on making slow progress down the line of photographers and interviewers, until finally, after what seemed like hours, we made it into the venue. After being checked by security we walked through to the main auditorium where the award show was being held. It was being televised for German TV so there were cameras everywhere and people running around doing last minute checks.

“Why the hell do we have to be here?” Joey asked.

It didn’t escape me that he was moving and stretching his arm. His lips were in a grim line of pain and as I looked at him, I got a stabbing sensation in my chest.

“Is that hurting?” I asked.

Joey bobbed his head from side to side. “Hmm, nagging.” He looked at Beau. “A bit like him.”

“I only said you should get a physio to look at it.” Beau rolled his eyes.

“And me,” I added.

“I know, I know. Stop going on about it.” He was irritable and uncomfortable.

“Have you taken anything?” I asked cautiously.

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