Page 33 of Too Little Too Soon
Oz chuckled. “She’s part of my family, so she’s a fan. Once Mom here calms down some, we’ll see about letting Carina and Riley come to a show.”
Maria turned in her seat to glare at Oz, who leaned forward and kissed her nose. She rolled her eyes, but there was definitely a smile teasing at her lips.
Lacey and Parker tumbled out of the shower, drunk on the performance and each other, no doubt. “Next,” Parker yelled and the two of them disappeared behind the privacy screen.
Cash was the first to jump up, which left a space between Ava and Travis that was both far too wide and too damn close. He took another swig of his drink while she gazed at her empty glass before gracefully lifting her body from the couch and heading over to a cluster of bottles resting on a mirrored vanity.
By the time she turned around with a refreshed drink, Lacey and Parker were stepping out from behind the screen, fully dressed. Lacey flounced over and plopped down at the vanity nearest to Ava, who watched in the mirror as she styled her hair and added makeup to her face. If they were simply heading out to the tour bus, she wouldn’t bother, but they were expected to make an after-concert appearance, signing autographs and obligingly taking selfies with fans.
Travis had always enjoyed hanging with the fans. Nothing stroked a guy’s ego better than listening to a bunch of people wax poetic about what an awesome drummer he was. The scantily clad women who were always hovering, always up for a quickie, whether it was a blowjob or a handy or an emotionless fuck, were probably a bonus package for a lot of rockers, although Travis had been married the first time he’d done this gig, and unlike his ex-wife, he’d been faithful.
There should be nothing stopping him from enjoying those extracurricular activities as part of Demigoddess Revival, except he’d managed to gain himself a damn stalker back when they were just starting to play larger gigs, and he’d been afraid to take advantage of what was offered ever since.
That was why hooking up with Ava had been so spectacular. It wasn’t some celestial, soulmate shit; it was simply that she hadn’t known who he was and therefore had been safe.
She wasn’t safe anymore. Not because he was afraid she’d become a stalker but because of all the other shit he kept reminding himself about on repeat.
He didn’t want to forget and do something stupid like try to sleep with her again.
Cash finished his shower, and Oz hopped in there next. Ten minutes later, it was Travis’s turn. He soaped up and scrubbed his hair and only once imagined Ava in there with him, which was enough for his half chub to go full mast. Since they needed to get the hell down the hall to the fans, instead of taking the matter in hand, he flicked the knob to cut all the hot water and then nearly whimpered as the cold spray smacked against his body.
But hey, at least his dick wasn’t inflated anymore.
Although, Christ, this was going to be a long-ass tour if he had to take a cold shower every night after the show.
ChapterTwelve
“Hey.”
“Oh. Hey.” Ava pulled one of the earbuds out of her ear and paused the music on her phone as she slowed her pace on the exercise bike in the hotel’s workout room.
“You work out,” Travis said.
She shrugged. “Mostly, it’s stress relief, although I recognize that in a few years, I’ll be grateful for this habit.”
They were two weeks into the tour. They’d traveled along the East Coast to Washington DC, then cut across to Louisville. Now they were making their way north again—Cincinnati, Columbus, Pittsburgh, Cleveland. It was a grueling schedule, but honestly, Ava was having the time of her life.
Except for whatever was going on with Travis.
Scratch that. Except for the nothing that was going on with Travis.
Speaking of scratching, he scratched his jaw, a habit she’d come to realize he did when he was nervous or uncomfortable. Probably because they were currently alone in the hotel’s tiny workout room, and for the last two weeks, they’d done a remarkable job of avoiding each other as much as humanly possible.
“I prefer to go jogging,” he said, “but it’s too damn cold here for my taste.” He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “Parker and Sam are probably out there, breathing ice into their lungs, but I’m not fucking crazy.”
She laughed, because for a scant moment, this felt like it did the day they met, before she knew he was a rock star and he knew she was his band’s publicist’s sister.
He laughed too, and she damn near swooned on the spot. Ava had never swooned a day in her life.
Their laughter faded into uncomfortable silence, save the sound of Travis still scratching his jaw.
“So, listen,” he blurted. “This kind of sucks.”
“The tour? Why?” She’d thought it was going beautifully. They were selling out venue after venue after venue. The fans loved them. Music downloads spiked every time they played live. Maria had to constantly reorder merch.
“Not the tour. This.” He waved his finger between himself and Ava.
Oh.
