I push Leo towards them with a grin. “Go.” He winks but heads over with the others as Kathy joins me.
I stand to the side with her as the girls basically hang off my men, pulling duck faces and shifting positions as they take a million pictures. I roll my eyes, used to it by now, even as one of them tries to cop a feel and Kingston kindly moves her hand with a friendly smile. Liam winks over at me and picks one up, making them scream and yell for more.
Just then, our taxis pull up and relief flows through me. Usually, it doesn’t bother me, but tonight, I’m feeling exposed. Vulnerable.
“Sorry, ladies, our taxis are here. Thank you for coming to the show and make sure to share those pictures with the hashtag ‘get wild!’” I call as the guys break free from their roaming hands and start to get in the taxis. The girls giggle and wave, calling out their numbers, which none of them take, even Emmett. I climb in last. Kathy is next to me, her expression closed, sad, and confused. Taking her hand in the back of the dark cab, I squeeze it, letting her know I’m here for whatever she needs.
She smiles sadly at me and looks out of the window.
I don’t know what’s going on with her and Emmett, but I’ve been where she is. I can’t stop her pain or her worry, but I can be there while she struggles through it.
Like a good friend, like she is to me.
I love being on tour, but I miss being in one place for more than twenty-four hours. If we’re in one of the bigger cities, like we are today, then we may have a couple of shows over two or three nights, but even then, we’re still sleeping in hotel rooms or the back of the tour bus, and then we move on to the next venue. Anyone who tours for an extended period will tell you that there is nothing glamorous about tour life. There is no such thing as privacy, especially when you’re dating five of the guys you’re touring with.
Squeezed into the cramped bathroom on the back of the bus, I try to balance on one leg as I hold my other one in the sink, pink razor in hand as I attempt to shave my legs. We do have a hotel room while we’re staying here, but I didn’t have time to do it earlier before we went to the venue for rehearsals as we had become…distracted. I could just leave it—the guys wouldn’t care if I was the bearded woman, they would love me for me—but I like to look nice for them. Besides, it makes me feel good, which is how I ended up contorted like a gymnast in the tiny bathroom.
“Angel, have you seen my G-string?” Liam calls out from somewhere in the bus, and before I even have a chance to move, the door is being opened and he grins at me, raising an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”
Staring at him in the mirror, I lift the razor and try to decide if I’m amused or frustrated. I pull my leg from the sink and sprinkle him with water in the process, deciding it’s a bit of both. “Open heart surgery. What does it look like?” Dropping the razor in the sink, I cross my arms over my chest and face him. “What if I was taking a shit?” I challenge, but a smile is pulling at the corner of my lips, taking away some of the sting from my words. His cheeky grin makes it impossible for me to stay mad at him.
“You never do that on the bus.” He shrugs. Frowning, I realise he’s right. More proof that there is zero privacy on tour when your boyfriend knows your bowel habits. “And you were taking too long for it just to be pee, so I came to check on you.”
“Oh.” I really don’t know how to respond to that, and from his grin, he knows he’s thrown me. Come on, Gabby, brain in gear. “So you don’t need your G-string?” I finally manage to ask.
“Oh, yeah, I do.” He laughs, taking a step into the small bathroom and pinning me against the sink with his hips, his hands resting on my waist. “Two birds, one stone.” His smile turns sultry as he rocks his hips against mine.
Trying to focus on the task at hand, which is really fucking difficult when you have a stripper thrusting against you, I gesture in the vague direction of where I think it may be. “Check the trunk by the couch, I thought I saw it in there the other day.”
“Thanks, Angel.” He grins and swoops in for a kiss. When he pulls back, his smile dims a little. “Will you be joining us in rehearsal?”
My own smile fades at the question. Both of us know why I haven’t been to one in a while. The last time I attended a rehearsal was back at our rehearsal space, the same space that’s still unusable after the stalker blew it up and killed Mark. Since then, we’ve constantly been on the move. This is the first time we’ve had three shows in one city, tonight being the second show, so I don’t have to rush to set anything up or prepare to move on tonight. I love watching the guys dance and rehearse, I just haven’t been able to in so long, but today, I could. It’s clear from his expression he wants me to as well. Excitement flashes through me at the thought of watching them do what they love, and instead of them dancing for a whole audience of women, it would just be for me. “I’d like that. I’ll try to come by.” My smile is bright, and I lean forward to kiss away his pain. He soon returns the kiss, and I can feel the evidence of his desire pressed against my hip. Laughing, he pulls back and winks at me. “Don’t take too long, Angel.” He escapes the small room and leaves me staring after him. My pussy is awake and demanding attention, and my heart flutters with happiness.
Standing here half dressed, dripping water onto the floor with the bathroom door wide open, I shake my head. “Strippers,” I mutter with a smile before shutting the door so I can finish shaving my legs.
Tour life may be unglamorous and lack privacy and sometimes dignity, but the people make it worth it, and I wouldn’t change it. The relationships you build with the people you tour with are unlike anything you could form otherwise. You’re living so close together and have to rely on each other so much, you get close. I also get to travel and see so many different places I wouldn’t get to visit otherwise, and I get to do it all with my guys.
Although I have to say, murderous stalkers put a damper on all that.
Several hours later, I’m surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the crew backstage, the commotion comforting as they pack up after the evening show. The sounds of the lighting guys climbing down from the rigging and the wheeling of the cases that contain the equipment are all familiar background noises.
“Gabs, are you coming?” Damon calls out, and I look up from my phone and smile at my handsome rocker.
“Yup, I’m just finishing up,” I reply, pressing send and watching as the text disappears from my screen. The phone chirps in my hand, confirming the text sent, and I quickly delete it from my sent box, a habit of mine since the stalker started accessing my last phone. It probably wouldn’t stop him if he really wanted to know what I was sending, but it makes me feel better. Placing my phone right next to my trusty clipboard on the small table I’ve been working on, I smile up at Damon. “I’m ready.”
After Liam left me in peace, I managed to finish shaving my legs and got dressed without any more interruptions. I spent the rest of the morning working, and thanks to the fact we aren’t moving on until tomorrow evening, I got through today’s jobs pretty quickly and watched the rest of their rehearsal. It was full of fun and laughter, and it reminded me of a simpler time.