So after grabbing a bite once he got up properly and showered to wash off the sleep, he’d been itchy for alone time. Except the media jackals were out, their cameras trained on the bus. Kit couldn’t leave so soon after their “romantic reunion,” as described online, so they’d been stuck together.
“Noah,” Kit had said ten minutes into it, “I’m going into the bedroom to read. Do what you need to do.”
Then she’d disappeared.
He hadn’t believed it for at least five minutes, but she hadn’t come back out, and when he’d peeked in at her, he’d found her sitting cross-legged on the bed, reading a script and marking it up as she went. Returning to the front room, he’d grabbed his iPod, his headphones, and settled in.
Often he played the guitar preshow, but today he’d just listened to stuff. Some of it was their own, some of it sung by his favorite bands, a scattering of it classical. No one expected him to listen to that last, but he liked the purity of it at times, liked figuring out the meaning behind the music. When the music beat in his blood, it cleared out everything else.
Too bad that didn’t work while he was asleep. He’d tried it more than once.
Now, bare minutes before showtime, he was getting ready to walk out the door with a woman. It was strange… but good strange. He’d been complaining to Fox about not having a girl of his own, and here she was. Just for a weekend, but she was his, and she got him; she understood that he needed the music and she wasn’t threatened by it.
When he’d finally come out of the music and gone looking for her, she’d been frowning at her script. Glancing up with an absent look in her eyes, she’d said, “Is it time?”
She’d taken those ten minutes to change into skinny black jeans that hugged her ass in ways Noah really shouldn’t be noticing, paired with black ankle boots and a silky red T-shirt that faithfully caressed her form. The vee in front barely exposed any cleavage, and the design was simple, but the way the fine material hinted at the possibility of a lacy black bra beneath…
Blow-off-the-roof sexy wasn’t an adequate description.
She’d also done something to her hair so that it was all tousled and rolled-out-of-bed hot, her lips plump and red, her eyes smoky.
“Holy hell,” he’d said, enjoying the look but missing his Kit. The woman who stood in front of him was Kathleen Devigny.
Then she’d winked at him and there she was, his Kit. “What do you think we’ve been doing in the bus all this time, Casanova? Gotta give the right impression.”
Allowing the memory of that moment to fall away because the reality of Kit with him was so much better, he glanced back to where she stood on the living area level while he’d stepped down to open the door. “Ready?”
“Rock on.” She handed over his guitar. “I’ll be your adoring girlfriend slash mega groupie.”
Guitar in one hand, he stepped out with a grin on his face that was real, twisting sideways once he was down so he could grab her hand as she came out. He didn’t care about the cameras, just wanted to touch her. He could do that now without crossing dangerous lines because Kit thought it was all make-believe.
But when he wrapped her hand firmly in his and held it against his thigh, he meant it. And when he tugged her close to his side and leaned down to nuzzle at her hair, he meant that too. As he did his words when he released her hand to wrap his arm around her shoulders. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Eyes suddenly dark, Kit looked away as she slid her own arm around his waist. Her silence was a kick to his fucking heart. But the pain was nothing compared to having her tucked up against him. He didn’t deserve her, would never deserve her, but for this short window of time, he could pretend and live an impossible dream.
“It’s interesting being on the back end from the start,” she said at last. “The energy is intense.” A squeeze of his waist that he wasn’t expecting and that made his heart do weird things inside his chest. “You’re intense.”
“You didn’t even come near me. How do you know I was intense?”
“That bus is luxurious but small. I could feel you being all intense and rock-god-like.”
Heart continuing to do weird things, he nuzzled his chin into her hair again. “Yeah well, thanks for the patience.”
“No, I get it. I hole up like that when I’m readying myself for a big scene.” Another squeeze of his waist that made him feel all odd deep within. “I don’t want people talking at me, expecting to get a response. All I want is silence in my head so my skin can settle.”