Page 99 of A Duet of Darkness and Dreams

Dave sets down my bag. “This is light?”

Frowning, I shrug. “I had to pack the typewriter and paper.”

“Oh, right.”

“We’re heading out in five, so you might want to double-check you have everything, miss,” Barney says, poking his head through the curtain.

“Okay, thank you.”

James rubs his hands together and backs up toward the front, pushing Dave along with him. “We’re just going to grab some air and let you get accustomed to the space. We’ll be back in a few minutes.” They disappear through the curtain, and I’m left standing in the narrow hallway of a real tour bus. Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined I could be here. This is nicer than I expected. I was sure I’d be walking into a party bus, but the place is spotless.

I take a deep breath and pull my suitcase up onto the table. Taking the typewriter and paper, I place them on the counter then grab some of my clothes and head for the back where the cubbies are. There are eight square cupboards, four of which have labels with the guys’ names on them. My fingers trail down the wood grain, my thumb passing over Dave’s name. He’s written his “D” the same way as he did on my shoulder that night so many months ago, and my skin tingles at the memory.

With a sigh, I grab the handle of one of the other doors andpull. I shriek as what appears to be dozens of rubber bands fall toward me and ricochet onto the floor.

“Shit!” I cry, dropping my armful of clothes to try to collect them.

“Miss?”

Wide-eyed, I catch Barney peering through the curtain.

“I—” I fumble trying to grab them and stuff them back into the open door of the cubby, but I stand up too fast and slam the top of my head into the open cabinet door. “Ow!”

Stumbling back, I sink against one of the bunk beds, rubbing the top of my head, which is tender and throbbing. A moment later, Barney is in front of me, helping to scoop up the blue bands from the floor.

“Are you all right?” he asks, jutting his chin at my head.

Scrunching my face, I close my eyes and nod. “Yeah, shit, I thought that was empty. What the hell are these things anyway?” I ask, picking up a blue band from the floor.

“They give those out to the girls,” Barney says absently as he finishes picking up the last of the fallen items.

My head tilts to the side. “Oh,” I say, pulling the rubber band over my wrist where it joins my other bracelets. “They’re bracelets. That’s nice.”

Barney glances at the band on my wrist. “Should probably put that back,” he says seriously.

I grin and wave my hand. “Why? We’re all friends. They won’t mind if I take one, will they?”

He looks toward the front of the bus then back at me. “Them bracelets aren’t for friends, nor are they for nice girls like you.”

Okay, he’s lost me. “What do you mean?”

Barney hesitates, then reaches forward to take my wrist, pulling the blue band off of me. “They ain’t friendship bracelets. They give them to the girls who want to come backstage.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Backstage?”

“You don’t exactly seem like the type of girl who’d want one of these.”

Realization dawns on me and my mouth hangs open. My eyes flick back and forth between Barney, who turns and heads back toward the front, and the cupboard full of . . . sex passes? Is that really what he’s implying? The guys hand out these bracelets to girls so they can come backstage and— Does Dave do this? Ugh . . . men are disgusting.

I’m such an idiot. Here I was, wondering if Dave stopped sleeping around after our night together. Thinking that he might have cut down on hooking up with random girls because he had me on his mind. But hereheis with a closet full of groupie bracelets. Just how many girls does he plan to sleep with?

“Ready to hit the road?”

I look over at Dave, that beautiful, easy smile on his face. But after what I just discovered, something sours in my stomach. My lips seal shut and I clench my jaw. Standing, I walk toward the table, pushing past him with an aggressive bump of my shoulder.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

He turns slowly. “Whoa, what’s wrong?”

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