Her lips twitched slightly, and I wasn't sure if she was aiming for a smile or a grimace. "Please stop talking."
Grimace it was.
"Do you take anything? Can I get you some medicine? An icepack? Caffeine? I've heard my dick has magical healing properties."
"Shut up," she mumbled, landing a very weak swat on my abs, before inching close enough to burrow into my chest. "Just hold me for a bit?"
Well, there was no way I was going to deny my lady anything, especially a request like that. I checked the time, knowing I had to be back at the venue in a couple hours. I wrapped my arms around Marni and let her get comfortable on my chest.
I had no idea how my hands landed on her ass. Really, it was like a magnet. I had no control.
I smiled and closed my eyes when she didn't complain and instead tightened her hold on me.
Somebody shoved a vibrator in my back pocket.
The incessant buzzing gradually pulled me out of the best sleep of my life and inspired such rage, that I thought about trashing the hotel room. Marni was still wrapped around me, her head tucked under my chin, her soft, even breaths hinting at her deep sleep. Trying my best not to wake her, I pulled my phone from my pocket.
Aww, shit.
I had texts and missed calls from every single one of my band mates.
I opened the texts first.
Shep: Where are you?
Tristan: Nobody has seen you in hours. Are you okay?
Donal: Dude, get your ass to the venue before I track you down and kick your ass.
I'd keep going, but it was just more of the same. I listened to the voicemails.
Shep: Dude, what the fuck? Everyone's here, ready to go on, and nobody can find you. Call me.
I pulled the phone away from my ear to check the time and swore just as there was a pounding on the door. Marni groaned, pulling the covers up over her head. "Baby, I hate to do this to you, but I've gotta get up. I'm late." I spoke softly in case her head was still pounding, and when she didn't respond, I gently rolled her off me and ran for the door. I got there just as the pounding resumed.
I flung it open and narrowly missed Sam's fist with my face. "Hey! Sorry. I'm coming," I assured her.
She eyed me up and down. "Great," she drawled. "Put some pants on first." Her long dark hair fanned out as she spun around and stalked back to the elevator. I shut the door and ran back into the bedroom.
I dressed, scratched Simon's little head, and told him to keep an eye on his mama before bolting. Yeah, I was going to be late for my own show, but what rock show ever started on time anyway? I winced, knowing that Shep hated it when we went on late. The fans are on time, we owe them the same courtesy was his philosophy, and he wasn't wrong. So, maybe I should have felt bad, but if I was honest, and I was always honest, I didn't. Feel bad, that is. Instead, I smiled. Because Marni had needed me, and I'd been there for her. I'd given her what she'd asked for, and spent some of the best sleep of my life wrapped up in the girl of my dreams.
"Sorry! Sorry, sorry, sorry!" I panted my apology, having run the five blocks back to the arena.
"Dude, what the fuck?" was asked, in unison.
I looked at the entirety of Wasted Breath, minus me, and smiled. "I know, I'm an asshole."
"Yeah, you are," Tristan grumbled.
"No one's arguing," Shep deadpanned, arms crossed.
"Fucker," Donal stated.
"Explanation later. We have work to do." Shep took the lead like he always did, whipping us into shape and reminding us that we had an obligation to the fans.
Wasted Breath took the stage, ten minutes later than scheduled, to the roar of twenty thousand screaming fans. My chest swelled, like it always did, with the sound. And then we rocked their socks off.
Two hours later, the crowd was screaming for an encore, which we happily obliged. After, riding high on adrenaline, we each waded through the sea of flying panties (thongs, mostly, but don't discount the occasional pair of granny panties) to the backstage area.
"Holy shit. Is it just me or was that one super intense?" Donal asked, twirling the one and only drumstick he hadn't broken or thrown into the crowd that evening.
"Yeah, that was intense," Tristan agreed.
"You think everything is intense, emo," I ribbed him with the nickname he hated.
"It was...something," Shep said, frowning like he didn't know what to make of it.
Granted, it was a wild energy coursing through the arena that night. The guys were right; it was intense. I didn't know why, but sometimes that just happened. The energy of the band coupled with the energy of the crowd sometimes led to an explosive evening. It's like meeting someone for the first time and really vibing with them. You just hit it off, and the next thing you know, you have a best friend for life. Only, multiply that feeling by twenty thousand, and there you had it.
And as cool as it was when that happened, it still paled in comparison to the buzzing in my veins when I remembered that I'd left Marni curled up in my bed in my hotel room.
"Hey, has anyone seen Marni, by chance?" I called out to the crowd in the green room.
A disjointed chorus of no answered.
I pulled out my phone, calling up her contact and hitting the green button.
"'Ello?"
I smiled into the phone. "Hey, sleepyhead. How ya feelin'?"
"Mmkay." She sounded drowsy but at least she was apparently no longer in pain.
The green room crowd was rowdy, so I ducked down the hall to the back entrance and lowered my voice. "You still in my bed?"
I heard her soft breath and then a pause. "Yeah."
"What are you wearing?"
"Seriously?" I could practically hear her rolling her eyes. "I'm sick, and you're being a pervert."
My smile dropped. "You're still sick? You said you were okay." I accused.
"Well, I feel better than I did earlier, but I'm still a little nauseous."
"Don't move, I'm on my way."
I hung up before she could get out anything more than, "Brick, that's-"
I walked back through the green room and caught Tristan's eye. I shot him the peace sign, so he'd know I was leaving. He frowned, probably wondering why I was cutting out early, but gave me a chin lift when I mouthed Marni and gave him a wink.
My girl was in my bed, and she needed me. Maybe not in the way I wanted her to need me but needed me nonetheless.
There was no way I wasn't going to be there for her.
Six
Marni
I spit and sputtered the last sip of warm, flat ginger ale, from one of the bottles Brick had brought back to the hotel room the night before. He'd unnecessarily nursed me back to health with the stomach soother, saltine crackers, and Dramamine he'd picked up at some twenty-four hour drug store after the concert. I'd felt bad I'd missed the show, but that migraine had knocked me down, trampled me, and buried me under a steaming pile of donkey dung. By the time I even began to dig myself out, the show was over. Not that it mattered, because even though the pain had subsided, the nausea lingered. Plus, I was exhausted and needed time to recuperate.