Page 16 of To the Moon and Back

A shiver of longing went through me. I was used to having the sexual attention of two guys—but the attention of four? How the heck would that feel?

Pretty damn awesome.

But Rich and Nial would never go for it. Never let me have some fun with Chris and Jed.

Or would they?

If there were two guys they might share me with it would be their two idols, the guitarist and singer-songwriter from their favorite band.

I squeezed each of their hands, hoping they knew how much I adored them, and that fancying some fun with Chris and Jed didn’t detract from that. We were free-loving people. We took and gave pleasure, celebrating love and peace and all that encompassed. Nothing was wrong if it felt good, that was what we always said.

When Scarlet Men’s two-hour session came to an end, the rain was just beginning to fall. Great big thunder spots the size of fifty pence pieces.

A streak of white-hot lightning accompanied Jed and Chris as they rushed from the stage into the wings.

“I hope this thing is earthed,” Jed said, looking up at the metal structure.

“Yeah, course it is,” a rotund guy with red cheeks said. Ted Dunn, their manager. “But you kids get out of here before we find out for sure. And you…” He wafted his finger in my direction. “You and your crew, hunt me down tomorrow. I’ve got some ideas for Sliders I’d like to put to you.”

“Really? You have?” I clasped my hands together. “Ideas?”

He huffed. “I’d have to be either stone-deaf or bloody stupid not to have, and, young lady, I don’t want to be either of those things any time soon.”

A sudden peal of thunder was louder than any drum and I jumped, clasping my hands around myself.

“Hey.” Rich laughed, pulling me into a hug. “It’s okay.”

“We should get outta here,” Chris said. “Come on, our trailer is this way.”

“I’m not fancying our tent tonight,” I said to Rich as we followed.

“Perhaps you won’t need to.” Jed winked at me. “Sex, drugs and rock n roll, baby.”

Chapter Six

The band’s trailer was incredible. A big American-style thing with sections that extended out when it was static to double the inner space.

We rushed in through the skinny door, escaping the weather, and in my mind dodging a bolt of lightning that was chasing us.

“Wow, that’s wild,” I said, pushing wet strands of hair from my brow. “And it’s been so hot all day.”

“Which is why it’s so wild,” Jed said. “I grew up in Kansas. When the summer days went on endlessly we always knew what the price would be.”

“Tornado country, huh,” Rich said, toeing off his sneakers which had gotten muddy. The carpet in the trailer was a plush cream affair.

“Yeah, hence the song Twister.” Jed grinned and removed his boots, then slung them into the pile where everyone else’s had gone.

“Ah, that was top of the charts for weeks,” Nial said. “Congrats on that one.”

“Cheers, buddy.”

“So what’s everyone drinking?” Chris pulled open the door of a vast chrome refrigerator. “Ah, champagne, it has to be. To celebrate Sliders’ first festival performance.”

I glanced around. To my right were several doors which I presumed led to bedrooms and a bathroom, and to my left was a lavish seating area with three deep-cushioned red sofas, mahogany furniture and a large flat screen TV.

“So you live in here, most of the time?” I asked.

“It’s for touring. Festivals come under that heading.” Jed shrugged.

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