“Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”
He turns around and swirls the amber liquid in his glass, a smile on his lips. “I am.”
A knock at the door gets my attention, but my eyes stay glued on Adam as he goes to the front of the bus to answer it.
“Hi, Adam.” It’s a girl’s voice, and it’s shamelessly seductive.
“What do you want, Farrah?” Adam sounds bored, maybe a little irritated.
“Can I come in?”
Adam moves to the side enough so that Farrah can see me. And I can see her, all redheaded bombshell and legs, legs, legs. He sweeps an arm toward where I’m sitting. “I’m busy.”
She smiles at me and sweetly asks, “Room enough for one more?”
“No,” he says, and then he swings the door shut—right in her face.
My jaw is on the floor as he climbs back up the bus stairs and sits on the bench seat across from me, resting his elbows on his knees. “Sorry about that,” he says.
Frowning, I apologize for ruining his night.
“If you were ruining my night,” he replies, “I’d kick you off this bus without a second thought.” He smiles at me, and I’m not sure how to feel about what he just said. Would he seriously kick me off? “Now tell me about this cheating boyfriend of yours.”
“Can we not talk about him? I don’t even want to think about him.”
“Works for me. What do you want to do?”
I down my second drink of whiskey, my fifth drink of the night. It’s starting to hit me, fast. “Give me a tour?” I stand up and instantly feel wobbly on my feet. Adam bolts to my side and presses a hand against my ribs, steadying me.
And I giggle. I giggle like crazy at myself for almost falling in front of Adam freaking Everest on his band’s freaking tour bus, and he smiles at me like I’m the most adorable thing he’s ever seen.
“Hold on.” I crouch down and unbuckle my shoes, sliding them off and leaving them where they lay. “Okay, let’s go.” I’m suddenly much shorter than him, barely coming up to his chest. He takes a step deeper into the bus to begin the tour, but I reach up and grab his shoulder. “Wait.” He looks back at me. “I need another drink.”
He laughs and makes me another without any questions, handing it to me and then walking ahead of me through the tour bus. “This,” he says, gesturing to the bench seats, “is where Shawn likes to pass out before shows and get licked on his not-so-tasty face.”
I try not to giggle again, but I can’t help it. He walks me deeper into the bus, pointing at a flat-screen TV in the corner that hovers over an entertainment center filled to the brim with video game consoles.
“This is where Mike’s brain lives and dies.”
I grin, and he leads me into a small kitchen full of stainless-steel appliances and a glass mini-fridge stocked with beer and energy drinks. He reaches in and pulls out a Red Bull, handing it to me. “How drunk are you?”
“Not drunk enough.”
He gives me an appreciative smile. “Count backward from ten.”
I do it with no problem, and then he steps into me and my back gets pressed against the counter. “In that case, this is where I bring girls to take a second shot at seducing them.”
I brace my hands against his chest and stare up at him, trying not to faint from the way he’s pressing against me and looking down at me and damn, he smells so good. A smile breaks across my face. “It happens so often that you have a designated place for it?”
His hands linger on my waist. “Actually, I think you’re the first. But I think you deserve to have a spot named after you.”
“Oooooh,” I say, mocking his line. “That was sooo smooooooth, Adam Everest.”
He laughs and pops open my Red Bull, taking a sip of it and handing it back to me. “Still haven’t changed your mind, huh? Could be fun . . .”
“Oh, I’m sure it would be.” My fingers smooth across his shirt, and I’m suddenly not so sure I want to turn him down. He could make me forget. I gaze up at him, realizing that boys like him leave girls broken. He’s not the type of guy a girl has a fling with and gets over. He’s the type of guy who ruins all the rest that come after him. “But no,” I manage to say, knowing it’s the right choice even though I want to slap myself.
“Damn,” he says, backing off. “Break my heart, Peach.” He winks at me and exits the kitchen, and I follow, feeling weak in the knees but not from the alcohol.
We make our way back to the front of the bus, where we climb the stairs onto the second level. The first space is another sitting area with leather seats, but beyond that are closets and then twelve bunks, six on each side. All except three are neat and tidy.
“This is where the guys sleep,” Adam says, gesturing to the bunks before leading me further into the bus and opening a door at the end of the hall. It’s almost entirely occupied by a massive bed with black satin sheets.