“Yes, that’s it exactly.” Kit rubbed her hands up and down her arms.
“I don’t know if Noah had a chance to tell you,” Molly said, “but the band hired extra security. Plus the entire crew knows to be on the lookout for anyone acting suspiciously.”
Cold wiped out by the warmth of knowing she was among friends, Kit fell back on the bed. “Thank you.” Such small words to hold so much emotion. “I’m going to enjoy this weekend—I made a decision after buying my place that I wouldn’t allow the stalker to ruin my life.”
“You’re so strong, Kit. This stalker has no idea who he’s up against.” Molly’s words were fierce. “And I can’t wait to have fun with you here—I know things have been tough with the whole Noah situation.”
Breathing in and out with conscious focus, Kit stared up at the ceiling. “I have to share his bus, Molly.” The paparazzi were buzzing in every nook and cranny; there was no way she could hide out anywhere else.
“He’s been amazing with everything so far,” Molly reminded her, her voice soft and hopeful. “It might not be so bad.”
Kit had, quite frankly, been surprised at Noah’s cooperativeness. He’d accompanied her to places where photographers could snap them, been good-natured about the ravenous media interest when she knew full well he had a temper if someone pushed into his personal space. And, most importantly, he hadn’t even appeared near a club, much less picked up a girl.
The tabloids and magazines were already agog with stories of how he’d been “tamed” by love, of how “silver screen star” Kathleen Devigny had pulled off the coup of the century by quietly stealing the heart of rock’s gorgeous bad boy. If even half the media hype about her and Noah’s relationship had been true, Kit would’ve been ecstatic. Too bad it was a tissue of lies and fantasy.
“I should go find him now.” Throat dry and stomach jumpy, she forced herself to sit up. “Some photographer’s probably got a camera trained on this bus, and while a short visit to say hi to you won’t look odd, they’ll start to wonder if I stay too long.”
“I can open Noah’s door for you if he’s out.” Molly got off the bed. “We all decided we should be able to get into each other’s buses.”
Rising herself, Kit said, “Abe?” She knew everyone was still worried about the keyboard player’s mental state, though he appeared to have gone stone-cold sober after his dangerous on-tour binge.
“That’s part of it, but it just makes sense.” Molly led her to the front of the bus. “We’re family on the road, and we keep an eye on each other. Maxwell can also get in, because seriously, the idea of Maxwell selling us out is so ludicrous it’s not even funny.”
“Did you meet his wife?” Kit stepped out of the bus in front of Molly. “I adore her already.”
“She visited during the tour,” Molly said with a smile as she pulled the door shut so it’d lock. “They’re so sweetly in love it makes me happy each time I think about it.” Her face lit up without warning. “Fox, I thought you and David were working on those lyrics you wanted to get right.”
“Done.” Fox drew Molly into a luscious invitation of a kiss, one hand cupping her face, before he turned to hug Kit. “Have a good drive down?”
Kit had just begun to reply when she heard someone calling Molly. The other woman looked over her shoulder. “It’s Maxwell. I think he wants me to play intern for a minute.”
Leaving Kit with Fox, Molly ran over to help Maxwell grab a bunch of cables out of the back of a truck. “How is he?” Kit asked Fox in a soft murmur.
The lead singer’s expression turned grim, his dark green eyes close to obsidian. “Bad. He isn’t sleeping, Kit. I don’t think he’s slept the past two, maybe more, nights.”