“Who can handle Damon?” his voice inquires from behind me. His lips are on my cheek as he pulls up a chair. The spot where his mouth touched my face feels damp and clammy, and I want to wipe it away.
Aerie doesn’t stumble in her response. “Ivy’s security.” She smiles and looks over at Johnny. “I was joking about having a glass of wine”—she raises her glass—“while conducting the interview and asked if he”—she points to Johnny—“would get in trouble. Then I corrected myself when I looked over at him again and said I think he can handle you.”
Damon isn’t amused. “Well, are you ladies finished? I have a lot of pressing business to attend to today and I want to get my wife back to the bus.”
“I think we are,” Aerie says, closing her laptop. “I’d like to send Ivy the questions and responses before I publish, though. If that’s okay with you?”
Damon seems extremely distracted. “Of course. Just run them through my assistant and she’ll see to it that Ivy gets them.” He scoots his chair back, reaches for his wallet, and throws a fifty-dollar bill on the table like it’s confetti. Then he takes my hand and tugs me to my feet with a smile, as if I’m a child not following directions. More disgust flows through me.
I extend my other hand to Aerie. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Daniels,” I say as nonchalantly and as formally as I can.
“Mrs. Wolf, it was my pleasure. Damon, thank you for the opportunity.” I’m so sickened by the sound of his name as mine that I can feel the bile rising in my throat.
“Good afternoon,” Damon says for the both of us before placing his hand on the small of my back and guiding me forward. She glances down when her phone beeps with a text and I hope it’s the information she was talking about.
My disgusted reaction toward him only grows with every touch, and again I question what I ever saw in him. We reach the waiting car as Johnny trails behind us. On the way back to the bus, Damon says nothing while he reads e-mails on his phone and I relish the silence. Looking out the window as we approach the two tour buses in the parking lot, I see Amy boarding the Wilde Ones bus. The pit in my stomach grows, and I start to wonder if I am strong enough to do this—even for Xander.
CHAPTER 16
Something to Believe In
Xander
Damon Wolf has been here for two days. I can’t get near her and it’s killing me. I have to find a way to get past his security—I need to know if she did this because she wanted to or because she had to. Either way, I don’t understand her actions but I’m not ready to give up. Hatred has been consuming me and I exhale his name as a curse before mustering the strength to get out of bed.
Slowly sitting up, I turn my phone on—too many messages to check right now. My head is pounding and I feel like shit. The bus is unusually quiet. No one seems to be around. I tack up the daily before hitting the bathroom. Then I jump in the shower, slip a pair of jeans on, and head back to the galley, where I lie back down and close my eyes, trying to figure out what the hell I’m going to do next.
“Xander, there you are. I’ve been calling you. Why aren’t you answering your phone?” Amy calls from across the room, holding the daily sheet in her hand.
I lift my head. “What are you doing here?”
“Jiffy Lube Live is a double bill, remember? You were supposed to call me?” She points to the sheet I prepared days ago but never bothered to look at today before I posted it.
I throw my head back. “Shit, I completely forgot Breathless is opening for us tonight.”
She laughs. “Yeah, I know. I called Ena and she didn’t know anything about it.”
“My head’s been in my ass lately. I’m really sorry. What do you need me to do?”
“I took care of it all. The guys are finishing up in the amphitheater now.”
I nod. “Thank you.”
Technically, coordinating with Breathless would have been Ellie’s job, but as soon as Damon showed up he told the label to let her go, quoting cost cuts. She was actually really happy about it—she said she had wanted to move to New York City for some time and the severance pay would give her the time she needed to find a new job.
“Want some company?” Amy asks me with a smile.
I throw my hand over my eyes. “I’m really beat and I have a lot on my mind. What do you say we catch up later?”
There’s no response, so I move my arm and rise on my elbows. She smiles at me and reaches her arms around her head to unwind her braid. Then in an extremely bold move she steps forward and straddles me on the bed. The smell of her hair hits me and the feel of her body on mine makes me want to forget everything and just let go.
She runs her fingers up my bare chest.
“Amy, what are you doing?”
Again nothing—just silence. She slowly starts to unbutton her blouse, but I gently take her hand to stop her.
Again I ask, “Amy, what are you doing?” but this time my voice is cool in a way I’ve never spoken to her before.
“I want you.”