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They grin at each other, and I take a picture before sitting down. Killian is right; Libby is an excellent baker. And Libby is right; the food is devoured in a blink. I find a seat and simply watch the guys interact. There's something comforting about witnessing old friends enjoy each other's company.
But they don't leave me out. Whip turns his attention to me soon enough. "So, Bren threw you right into the lion's den, eh?"
"You guys seem pretty tame."
He laughs, and I'm struck by the fact that he looks very much like Killian, only blue-eyed instead of dark. "Sadly, we are now."
"You miss being wild?" I ask, taking a picture because he's just too pretty lounging in a black leather armchair, his toned body doing nice things for the vintage Def Leppard concert tee he's wearing.
"Naw," he says. "I'm kind of liking this tamer phase. More productive, at the very least."
"He's just getting old," Rye says, opening a small fridge and pulling out a few bottles of beer.
"You're six months older than I am," Whip points out.
"I age better."
"Like moldy cheese," Whip says.
Rye plops down next to me on the small banquet. "I'm surprised Scottie was cool with you sleeping on this bus."
Killian pa.s.ses me a beer. "Why wouldn't he be? It's her job to record us."
"It's cute that you described my job with finger quotes," I tell him, rolling my eyes.
He grins with teeth, so fake, and I snap a pic before he can stop. At this he scowls, but it lacks any heat.
"Brat. I'm not saying I like my every move being chronicled-and post that goof one at your peril-but I'm admitting it's a needed aspect of the tour, all right?"
I blink rapidly while clutching my chest. "Can't. Respond. Shock. Too. Great."
Libby laughs. "See? You'll fit in just fine."
"Thanks." I click beer bottles with her.
"Still not getting why Scottie would complain about Sophie on the bus," Killian says. "He was adamant that we treat her with..." His voice turns crisp and clipped, mimicking Gabriel's accent to a tee. "...'the b.l.o.o.d.y respect a trained professional deserves.'"
He said that? I become a little less ticked at him. Just a little.
Rye gives an expansive sigh. "Because dumba.s.s Jax made it sound like he'd hooked up with her."
Killian's mouth falls open, and he stares at Jax as if he's sprouted horns. "You told Scottie you slept with Sophie?" he all but squeaks, which is impressive given his naturally low voice.
"It was a joke," Jax says from his sprawl across the couch. "Calm down."
Killian shakes his head. "Oh, man. That's nothing to joke about. You're dead."
"Scottie needs to lighten up. And you do too."
"He has every right to kick your a.s.s." Killian wings a bottle cap at Jax. "You violated the first law of the man code, Mr. Dead Man Walking."
Jax frowns. "No way."
"Yeah, you did," Whip adds with a laugh.
Even Rye shakes his head. "You didn't know? Who put you up to even telling Scottie that story?"
Jax sits up straight. "Brenna brought it up to him!"
Rye makes a noise of horror. "That's just mean. Even for Brenna."
"Eh," Jax says, rubbing the back of his head. "I think he was giving her s.h.i.+t for something."
"Clearly the man was playing with fire," Rye deadpans.
"Truth."
"What the h.e.l.l is the first law of the man code?" I cut in.
Killian takes a sip of his beer before answering. "Never encroach upon your buddy's territory."
"Territory," I parrot. "You make us sound like dogs."
"Soph," Whip says solemnly, "when it comes to guys and s.e.x, we're all dogs."
"True," adds Rye.
"I'm not Gabriel's territory for him to p.i.s.s over." Not that anyone seems to believe me.
Killian's dark eyes fill with amus.e.m.e.nt. "You're the only one he lets call him Gabriel."
"s.h.i.+t," Jax says with a wince. "You're right. I missed that."
"You're blind then." Whip gives Jax's flat belly a slap. "Dude, he saw her first. That's like calling-"
"If you say 'dibs'," Libby cuts in, "I will gag."
Killian laughs and slings an arm around her. "Aw, honey, no gagging without my helping."
At this we all gag.
"But still," Jax says when the guys settle down. "How was I supposed to know? We're talking about Scottie, for f.u.c.k's sake."
"What's so strange about that?" I feel compelled to ask.
"He isn't known to...er...partake," Rye says with a shrug.
"Partake?" I look around at the guys.
"f.u.c.k around," Killian supplies. "He's kind of like a monk."
Whip nods. "When was the last time anyone saw him with a woman?"
"f.u.c.king forever ago." Rye shudders as if the thought terrifies him. "If he's getting any, he's doing it on the sly."
Something ugly twists in my stomach. I don't want to think of Gabriel with women. And really don't like the idea of the guys discussing his s.e.x life, or lack of one. Gabriel is a proud man; he'd hate this conversation. "We shouldn't be talking about him this way."
"You're right," Killian says. "No doubt his Scottie Sense is tingling."
"We shouldn't be talking about him," Libby says in a stronger voice, "because it's rude and none of our business."
I knew I liked that woman.
Killian kisses her cheek. "Right you are, Libs." He gives Jax a look filled with warning. "Sleep with one eye open, man."
"He's on another bus," Jax grumbles.
"You look worried," I point out. I admit this gives my inner toddler some satisfaction.
Jax's smile is self-deprecating. "Little known fact, honey, Scottie boy is sc.r.a.ppy as s.h.i.+t. I've seen him make men twice his size cry for their mommas with a well-placed kick-punch combo. f.u.c.king bare knuckle legend-"
Killian clears his throat loudly and gives a slight shake of his head.
But I'm a dog on the hunt now. "Hold on, he's what?"
"A stone cold bada.s.s," Rye says. "But you didn't hear it from us. Seriously, he really can kick all our a.s.ses so...yeah, no more talking about Scottie, 'kay?"
He's laughing as he says it, but I get the feeling he truly doesn't want Gabriel to find out I know about his fighting. I can respect that. Doesn't stop me from thinking of his hard body and muscles that strain his properly cut s.h.i.+rts. Is that how he developed those? As a fighter? I can't picture him getting into a fight out of anger, but a controlled match? I can see that, and it leaves me feeling oddly morose.
They move on to another topic, but I can't help looking out of the tinted window. There's nothing but darkness and the occasional flicker of headlights. Somewhere behind us, Gabriel is alone on his bus. I know full well he wants it that way, but I hurt for him all the same. Isolated from his friends, and why? Why does he hide himself away? Does he get lonely?
I hate that fate for him. The urge to be with him instead is so strong, I imagine myself leaping from the window and somehow landing on his bus, straight up Super Girl style. No, Wonder Woman. That way I could tie him down with my la.s.so when he protests my invasion of his Fortress of Solitude.
I'm in the middle of a Clark Kent/Diana Prince cosplay fantasy when Jax shatters my dream by loudly declaring, "'Son of a Preacher Man' is a song that can never be replicated."
Rye leans back in an armchair and idly plucks on a ukulele he unearthed from somewhere. "Okay, I'll give you that."
"Play that song," Jax says, "and women f.u.c.king melt, man."
"Someone save me from hearing any more of Jax's seduction routine." Rye looks around desperately.
"Take notes, son, and learn something," Jax drawls.
"Etta James singing 'At Last'," Killian b.u.t.ts in. "f.u.c.king timeless."
"Beyonce did a pretty good version," Libby says.
"Pretty good," Killian repeats. "But it didn't top the original. Etta still rules that song."
Whip taps on his knees as if he can't keep still. "Don't let the Bee Hive hear that. They'll sting you bad, bro."
Killian shudders. "You're right. I'm sorry, Bees," he shouts to the air. "Don't slay me! I love Queen Bey!"
"Man, I keep waiting for her to break up with Jay Z. Then I'm all in."
"Dude, your dream is dead in the water," Jax says. "You don't have a chance in h.e.l.l with her."
"You're gonna eat your words," Whip promises. "Our love is destined. She totally winked at me during that charity concert we all did last month."
"It was windy," Killian says with a snort. "She had dust in her eyes."
"She had me in her eyes."
Rye shakes his head, and then his blue eyes find me. "What about you, Sophie? Got a song?"
They all turn to me. I'm supposed to play? f.u.c.k. I love music, but my knowledge isn't encyclopedic like these guys'. I think for a minute. "'Sabotage'."
"Beastie Boys?" Rye gives me a high five. "Excellent."
"n.o.body can replicate the Beastie Boys," Jax agrees, clinking his beer bottle to mine. He's relaxed, his pretty green gaze slumberous. I know the guys worry over him, and I don't blame them, but he appears to be taking things easy now. "h.e.l.l, I need to get my blood pumping or I'll fall asleep." He looks at Killian. "You got 'Sabotage' on your phone?"
"You have to ask?" Killian jumps up and plugs his phone into the input set up in the wall. "Hold on to your b.u.t.ts."
The familiar hard ba.s.s riff pounds through the speakers, followed by discordant record scratches and an angry scream of defiance. Killian immediately starts dancing around, grabbing Libby to join him. She laughs and b.u.mps hips with him.
Jax catches my eye. "At the risk of having Scottie hand me my b.a.l.l.s later..." He holds out his hand.
Jax has the most to resent me for. I should feel guilty even being in the same room with him. But I'm comfortable in his presence. He looks at me as if he knows exactly how s.h.i.+tty my job was back then, exactly how soulless I'd become, and he's sorry for it. It's that more than anything that has me taking his hand.
I dance full out, swinging my head, hopping around like a mad woman-there's no way to appreciate the song but to go wild. And the guys surround me, jumping and thras.h.i.+ng, and likely making the entire bus rock as it hurtles down the highway. We don't care. We're young and free. It's a beautiful thing. And we dance for many more songs.
I almost forget about the man on the other bus. Only when the guys finally crash for the night, when I'm tucked away in my tiny bunk by the bathroom and can't sleep at all, do I stare into the darkness and think of Gabriel.
Chapter Nine.
Gabriel