Page 42 of For Eva

One where people didn’t keep complicating my goddamn life.

“So, kid,” Keith began as he turned the sugar dispenser upside down and a million white crystals streamed into his coffee. “How’s it feel to be famous?”

“It feels fuckin’ good, man.” I flicked my lighter at the tip of my Marlboro and tilted my head back, sending a puff of smoke toward the ceiling. “Really fuckin’ good. Glad you made me agree to this tour.”

“It’s cute you think you had a choice.” He chuckled, clanking his spoon against the ceramic mug before setting it on the table. “You ready to do it all again in a couple weeks?”

I nodded, taking a long pull off my orange-tinted vodka. The Black Widow Rising tour was coming to an end that night inPhoenix, and Keith had flown out earlier in the week for our final four shows. I’d been too wired to sleep, anxious to get to sound check to make sure everything was perfect for the grand finale, so I’d headed down to the hotel restaurant where I’d found Keith finishing breakfast.

“I’m psyched, man,” I said, pointing to my drink and smiling at the waitress who glanced over at us a couple of tables away. “Those shows have to be sold out or close to it. Even if I don’t get that whole over-the-top glam shit, Hott Blood is huge.”

“For now they are, so we gotta ride that wave. The big hair and makeup aren’t gonna last forever. The good thing is Counting Backward straddles the line. Your image is important, but not too important. And your music’s fun, but not too fun.” He bobbed his head at the waitress who topped off his coffee and told us she’d be back with my drink. “What I’m saying is you guys could be around a long time if you want to be.”

I grinned, imagining rows of framed platinum albums lining the walls of the house I’d buy up in the Hills, where my close, personal friends The Rolling Stones and Aerosmith would stop by for impromptu jam sessions.

“What’s got you smiling like that?”

I startled and flicked my eyes to the left where Eva was standing, head tilted and mouth twisted.

“Hey. Hi.” I ran my hand along my jaw and cleared my throat. “Keith and I were just talking about the, uh, future. Future things.”

“Big things, right?”

I nodded and slid my hand along the side of her hip as I ground my cigarette into the ashtray. “Big things, babe.”

She sucked in a tiny breath, and I was relieved to see her lips and chocolate eyes melt into a soft smile. Things had been a little tense between us since the Jesse Trainor incident the week before. I’d managed to talk to him the day after it happened,smoothing things over with shaky promises that Eric would keep his mouth shut the rest of the tour and false assurances that I understood Eva was a hot chick who was maybe giving off mixed signals because she was such a big fan.

I had added themaybein an attempt to not feel like a total fucking coward, but it only half-worked. I tried to erase the rest of the gutless feeling by telling myself Eva had wanted me to do whatever was necessary to stay on the tour. But I didn’t totally believe that. Every time I allowed myself to think about it, I got tangled up in some mathematical guilt equation my conscience couldn’t solve. I only knew telling her what I’d said wasn’t the answer, and I thanked God she didn’t press me on it. It seemed as if she was doing her best to forget about it, and as I looked up at her and matched her smile, I hoped it meant we’d reached an unspoken agreement that we were both moving on from the whole episode.

“Good,” she said, releasing me from her gaze and turning her attention to Keith. “Anyway, I just came down to get Bryan a cup of coffee before the meeting. You almost ready?”

“Yeah,” he said, reaching for the wallet in his back pocket. “I’ll be right there.”

Eva leaned down, her lips gently touching mine as my fingers instinctively traveled under the bottom of her T-shirt, brushing against her soft skin.

When she pulled away and winked at me, my dick shifted against my jeans, sensing the truce had been officially called. I hoped we’d be able to celebrate in more ways than one after the show. We’d had sex only once since Eric had blown up on Jesse, and she’d kept her shirt on and stared at the ceiling the entire time.

“All right. I’ll see you up there, Keith.” She turned and headed for the coffee station near the entrance of the restaurant.

My brow crinkled. “Wait, is she, like,inyour meeting?”

“Yep,” Keith said, tossing a twenty on the table. “And I actually wanna talk to you about that.”

I thanked the waitress as she slid a fresh screwdriver in front of me. “What’s up?”

Keith took a sip of his coffee and let out a contented sigh. “Now that I’m freed up, my plan is to be out on the road with you guys more.”

”Yeah, man, we’d love that.”

“I’ll send Bryan home, of course,” he said, massaging his chin with his thumb and forefinger. “But I wanna keep Eva here to help me.”

I swallowed hard and gripped my drink until my hand slipped against the sweat. “You what?”

“Eva. I want her to come back out on the road with us. I wanna hire her.”

Fuck me.

“Oh.” I rubbed my lips together, then tossed back half of my drink, buying myself some time as I thought about what I should say—what Icouldsay—to discourage Keith’s plan without sounding like a terrible fucking person. “I, uh…I mean, she probably wants to stay in LA. She talks about how much she misses her roommate and stuff.”

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