Page 76 of Cadence
He stumbles, shrugging Beau off and flinging his arms around me, planting a wet kiss on my cheek. I stagger under his weight, right into something solid. A hand finds my hip, warm and steady, Maddox’s chest pressing into my back just long enough that I forget how to move.
“Okay, here we go,” he says, peeling Eli off me.
His fingers brush up my spine as he transfers our bass guitarist, a fleeting touch, but it still short-circuits my brain.
Jesus, every damn time, my body reacts to him.
“Why don’t you hang off me for a while, huh?”
Eli clings to him like dead weight, grinning. “I knew you were a cuddler.”
Maddox huffs, eyes flicking toward me. “Nah, I just don’t want you crushing your favorite drummer before the next show.”
My chest flutters stupidly at that, like he meanthisfavorite, not Eli’s.
I fall into step a few paces ahead, the hotel shining before us like a blurry lighthouse for the half-drunk and over-exhausted. Maddox is quiet, too quiet for someone hauling a human-sized koala drunkenly rambling to himself.
But the silence doesn’t feel like it used to when we first met, when he didn’t want me anywhere near him. Now it feels intentional, like he’s holding something back because of the guys rather than shutting me out. Even at the bar, he barely spoke, barely drank, barelymoved. Except to watch the bull, to watch me.
When I was up there—laughing, wild, alive—I could feel his eyes on me the same way I catch him watching when I play. And I saw the smile. Not a smirk, or something polished for fans. A real one.
Now it’s inked into my memory, beautiful and real, just like one of Eli’s sketches.
“Have a good night?” Beau asks as we all steer inside the hotel and he presses the elevator button.
“The best,” Eli answers dreamily, his head lolled against Maddox’s shoulder.
“He’s gonna feel that in the morning,” Beau mutters as we step inside. He keeps to the back, eyes on Eli like he might hurl at any second.
The ride is quiet, just Eli mumbling and Maddox moving to adjust his grip. When the doors open, Beau somehow manages to swipe Eli’s key card from his pants pocket and disappears into the first room, holding the door open as Maddox maneuvers our drunken bassist inside like it’s second nature, lowering him gently onto the bed.
I lean on the doorway, watching as they fight to get Eli’s boots off. Maddox curses, Beau tugs, and Eli flops like a happy, useless toddler.
“A big bed,” he slurs into the mattress. “I’m gonna starfish.”
Maddox laughs, tossing the covers over Eli’s still fully dressed body, and he starts snoring before either of them can say another word.
“Think he’ll be okay like that?” I ask, eyeing how his face is basically buried in the pillow.
“Yeah, he’ll live,” Beau says, walking to the adjoining door and unlocking it. “But I’ll leave this open just in case.”
“Okay, well, I guess I’ll see you in the morning,” I say, giving them a small wave and turning to leave.
I’m halfway to my room when Maddox’s voice stops me.
“Wait up. I’ll walk you.”
The hallway is seemingly endless, our footsteps muffled on the carpet but thunderous in my ears, along with my racing heart. Neither of us speaks, not about the show, not about the bar, anddefinitely not about the way his hand found my waist when he steadied Eli.
Or how I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.
Each step is louder than the last, each breath a countdown, and my door appears too soon. I stop, nerves scraping beneath my skin, heat curling low in my stomach. He’s behind me, so close I can feel the static pull between us, charged and magnetic, like always.
Last time we were this close, it was messy and fast and totally reckless in the back room of the bus while the others were still out. We didn’t know when they’d be back, we didn’t care. We just…gave in.
Now? We’re in a hotel. With real doors, real beds, real privacy. It’d take nothing to cross the line again and give in to what’s right in front of us.
“This is me,” I say, voice quieter than I mean it to be.
