Page 81 of Snared

Tristan raised his brow again. What the hell was going on?

“Fine,” I muttered, stepping next to Charlie and putting my arm around her waist.

She felt so damn good. I couldn’t wait to get her alone again. There had to be an empty dressing room or closet around here somewhere. Maybe the guys wouldn’t notice.

She tensed in my arms and her cheeks pinked. She wanted me as much as I wanted her, and there was nothing better than that.

I trailed my fingers over the small of her back, loving her indrawn breath.

“Josh,” she gritted out.

“Smile like you love me,” Jax said, ruining the moment, but also bringing me back to the present. I tended to forget my surroundings around her, and I feared it would backfire on me one day, but I couldn’t stop craving her.

I cleared my head, flashed a smile, and reluctantly let go of Charlie.

“Great. Now sit your asses down and sign some stuff,” I said as my phone pinged in my pocket.

“Grouchy, grouchy, CH,” Jax tutted.

If he only fucking knew.

I turned away before Jax could say anything else and swiped on my phone to see a text from the label.

Bill: Have you seen the latest from Charlie’s ex? This could get messy.

Her ex? What the hell was he talking about?

I pulled up a quick Google search, dreading what shit I was about to read.

An article on some garbage publication popped up. It was posted an hour ago.

According to Charlie’s ex, Troy Niven, he was in Vegas the night that Charlie and Josh got married, and they definitely didn’t look like a happy couple while he was around. Their impromptu marriage seems a little convenient, said her ex while sporting a black eye. “I’ll always love Charlie. She was my first love, and I want her to be happy.”

Is there already trouble in paradise? Or is this really how Charlie Jones found her way into one of the greatest rock bands of our generation?

What the actual fuck. Troy clearly didn’t actually give a shit about Charlie. That much I remembered from that night in Vegas.

I hesitated to look at the comment section. Comment sections were for the trolls of the world, and it was best to avoid them, but the last thing I needed was for Charlie to see this online trash.

And her fucking ex. That guy had douchebag stamped on his forehead from the first second I’d met him.

I glanced up at the table to see how they were doing, and for once, a meet and greet was drama-free. They smiled at their fans and signed posters and anything else—within reason—that their fans put in front of them.

Charlie looked up, and I gave her a small nod before I stepped out of the room to call Bill.

“What the hell is going on, Josh?” Bill asked as soon as he picked up the call.

“Nothing. It’s another bullshit article from an idiot ex-boyfriend. Nothing to worry about,” I said.

“I know that pretty much all press, good or bad, helps sales, but the last thing we need is turmoil that will delay getting the new album recorded,” Bill said.

“There’s no turmoil here. The band is doing great together, no extra drama. And while getting married on a whim in Vegas wasn’t our initial plan, my relationship with Charlie is very real,” I said.

I didn’t know what my real relationship with Charlie was at this point, but there was no reason to freak out the label until I knew what was actually going on. We’d set our end date to tie in with the new album being released, and as of right now, nothing had changed.

I bit back a scoff. Did I honestly, truly believe that?

Would my craving for her end when the tour ended? Or when the new album was released?

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