Page 37 of Snared

“How thoughtful.” I rolled my eyes. “Wouldn’t people ask why I wasn’t wearing it on stage before?”

Josh rolled his eyes, too. “Put the rings on and we’ll take a few pics for Instagram, make it official. Then we can all rest until Salt Lake.”

“Fine,” I muttered, slipping them on. They fit perfectly, and my heart raced. “Let’s get this over with.”

Chapter 8

JOSH

“Ithinkyoushouldkiss her and we’ll get a few action shots,” Jax said, framing his hands like he was a fucking photographer.

“It’s like he wants her to maim him,” Bash said to Tristan.

Tristan smirked. “Which ‘him’ are we talking about?”

Bash tapped his finger on his chin. “It’s honestly up for debate, I think.”

“I think you need to shut the hell up if you don’t want a drumstick down your throat,” Charlie retorted, and I swallowed a chuckle.

She’d probably skewer me if I laughed, but it felt good to see Jax being his usual ridiculous self. We’d typed up a joint statement saying that I’d fallen in love with her shortly after she joined the band and we’d been secretly dating for months. We mentioned it was our first trip to Vegas with her in the band and that she never wanted a big wedding, so we got carried away and got married. We added in a shot of our hands together, rings front and center, and I was done.

“Jeez, look like you’re in love. Give her a hug, kiss on the cheek,something,” Jax said.

“I’m not posing on the bus with Josh kissing me while you guys sit around and stare at us,” Charlie said.

“Not an exhibitionist. Okay, got it,” Jax said, continuing to dig his grave.

“I swear to god, Ellie…”

“Tut, tut, Mrs. CH. One would think you don’t like your husband,” he retorted. He always bristled when she used that nickname.

“Don’t be a dick, Jax. What we have should be more than enough. They were too drunk for a wedding video or pics, remember?” Tristan said.

“Perfect explanation,” I said. “So, we good here?”

“Yes.” Charlie slipped off the rings and popped them back into the box. “Now, I’m going to take a nap. Wake me when we get to Salt Lake.” She spun on her heel and disappeared behind the pocket door separating the bunks from the front of the bus.

Tristan glared at the band’s front man. “You need to cut the shit, Jax.”

“What? I’m lightening the mood with my stellar humor. This is happening because Mr. Jealousy over here got his panties in a wad when Charlie was dancing—dancing—with Connor,” Jax said.

I groaned. “I know. I fucked up. All I do lately is fuck up.”

“Hell, that might be the most self-deprecating I’ve ever seen you, Josh,” Bash said.

“Look, I’m not happy with how this went down and you guys should know by now that I’m not a complete dick. I want what’s best for Charlie and the band. Hopefully, this charade will play out how we want it to, and in a few months it’ll be a fuzzy memory we’re all close to forgetting,” I said.

But I knew there was no way I’d forget waking up with Charlie in my arms or how I felt every time we touched. I hadn’t fully been lying in that press release. I’d wanted her since she joined the band, but I always knew I could never really have her, not without it hurting the band. And the band would always come first. It had to. I’d worked too hard to let it all go up in smoke.

“Sure, sure. Just don’t fuck it up,” Jax said.

“Not the plan,” I agreed.

“Everything good?” I asked Molly, Savage Night’s tour manager, later that night.

We’d all arrived in Salt Lake, and Savage was about to go on stage after the local opening band finished. The arena was starting to fill, and Steelwolf would be on in just over an hour.

“Good on our end. How are you doing?” she asked, glancing down at my ring finger.

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