Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
The real work began when we arrived at a new location. The tour manager rented a car in each city, and I had to be at the ready to go get whatever the band or crew needed. I’d even been asked to hem pants once. This position should’ve been advertised as “jack of all trades.” I mean, maybe it had been. But I definitely hadn’t gone to college for this kind of work. Still, I was a firm believer that opportunities landed in your lap for a reason. And while I hadn’t shown up in the desert that day expecting to land a job, I knew this would be good life experience for me.
Tonight was the first night we’d be staying in a hotel because there were two shows in a row in Columbus, Ohio. I’d be rooming with one of only two other women on the crew, Layla, the tour photographer. Our room was modest, with two double beds.
As we settled in, Layla bounced on her mattress. “How are you liking being on tour so far?”
“I’ve been too busy to really think, you know?” I chuckled. “I blink, and then we’re in the next city.”
“You said this is your first tour. How did you end up here?”
“I’m still trying to figure that out.” Not a lie.
Layla smiled. “Anything surprise you so far?”
“I wasn’t expecting this level of fandom, you know? I can’t even exit the field where the buses are parked to get to the parking lot without running into crazy girls.”
“Yeah. It is pretty crazy. They all want a piece of them. Especially Tristan.”
Tristan.
He looked so different now from the way he’d looked in the bathroom that day. His long beard was gone, replaced by much lighter facial scruff along a strong jawline. The brown hair that had been piled under a hood was now usually let loose, wavy and thick, falling over his forehead to frame his face. Tristan was gorgeous—rugged and tattooed all over from his arms to his chest and even up to the base of his neck. It was no wonder women went crazy over him, and his broody, powerful voice was just as amazing as his looks.
“I haven’t gotten to speak to Tristan much since the tour started,” I told Layla. “Or any of the guys, for that matter. What’s your take on them?”
She shrugged. “Everyone assumes Tristan is the wildest of the bunch. You know, that lead-singer energy. That’s the persona he puts on for the public. But in reality, I find him to be the most private—not necessarily the wildest.”
I kicked off my shoes and lay back on the bed. “Interesting.”
“When you take photos of people, sometimes you look into their soul in a way others can’t. And in Tristan I see someone who’s preoccupied, lost a bit, even if I don’t understand why.”
“There’s more than meets the eye, then?”
“Yeah.” She nodded. “Atticus is probably the wildest of the crew. And his eyes tell me he’s troubled about something.”
“What about Ronan?” I asked.
“Ronan is the funniest. His eyes are mischievous.”
Both Atticus and Ronan were just as good-looking as Tristan. The three of them were like a rock-god trifecta.
“How come you’re never taking photos at night?” I asked.
“The guys have a rule: no photos after the show. Probably because they don’t want the world to know what they’re up to. My job is to mainly document the musical aspects of the tour, not necessarily the other shenanigans.”
“The women, you mean?”
She nodded.
My phone rang, and I held a finger up to pause our conversation. “Hello?” I answered.
“We have a request for condoms,” Stephen, the tour manager, said. “I need you to take the car and get some. Bring them to Atticus’s room.”
I ran my hand through my hair. “Uh…okay.”
“You okay?” Layla asked as I hung up.
“Yeah.” I slipped on my shoes and chuckled. “I have to get condoms.”
“Oh shit.” She laughed. “Well, at least they’re being safe.”
“No idea what happened to the box I bought the other night.”
“I have some ideas.” She rolled her eyes. “I think you need to get, like, ten boxes.”
“No shit. I think I’ll do that.” I stopped at the door. “Do you need anything while I’m out?”
“I don’t want to trouble you.”
“I’ll definitely need to buy something else to distract from the condoms, so what do you want?”
“Bring me back a Diet Coke?”
“You got it.” I winked.
I took the rental car and drove down the main road to the nearest Walmart.
After grabbing some snacks for the hotel room, Layla’s Diet Coke, and five boxes of condoms to keep stashed away so I didn’t have to keep going out to buy them, I went to the self-checkout register.
When I returned to the hotel, I dropped most of the stuff in my room first, then went to the other side of our floor to deliver a box of condoms to Atticus. I knocked on his door, and when it opened, I handed him the box as fast as I could. He took it without uttering a word. It felt like a covert operation, almost the way I imagined a drug deal to be. I’d barely noticed the shadow of a woman behind him.