“Nice to meet you,” Toni shouted over the raucous noise of the crowd and the music blaring in the background. “If you’re interested in having an interactive biography written about your band—”
“What’s that?” Matt shouted, leaning closer to her and turning his ear in her direction.
“I said,” she shouted louder, “if you’re interested—”
A nearby explosion of laughter cut off her words.
“Sorry?” Matt asked.
Toni shook her head. “We’ll talk some other time!”
Logan tugged her through the crowd once more, introducing her to anyone of interest. Matt wasn’t the only person who mistook Toni for his girlfriend. Logan was getting really annoyed by the fifth time he had to correct someone. “No! We’re just friends!” he yelled at Twisted Element’s lead guitarist.
“My apologies,” Brent said, holding up both hands in surrender, though a brown beer bottle was hooked in one.
Toni offered Brent a weary smile.
“What do you want to drink?” Logan shouted at her over the ruckus.
She pressed her hands to her temples and shook her head. “Is my hour up yet?”
“You’re not having fun?”
She looked like a wilted flower—still beautiful, but fading fast.
“This isn’t really my thing,” she said, “and I’m tired.”
He rubbed her arm. “You can go back to the bus if you really want to.”
He wanted her to say, I’d rather stay here with you, but she perked up immediately at his suggestion to leave. “Thank you,” she said with a relieved sigh.
He tugged her back through the crowd toward the exit, not sure how anyone would willingly give up partying with over a dozen rock stars to hang out on a boring tour bus.
Once outside, Toni sucked in a deep breath of the cool night air.
“I’m going back inside,” he said. “Can you make it to the bus by yourself?”
She glanced across the parking lot to where the bus was parked under a collection of street lights. “Yeah.”
He kissed her cheek, knowing that if he drew her into his arms and kissed her the passionate way he wanted to kiss her, everyone would mistake her for his girlfriend. “I’ll see you later, okay?”
She stared up into his eyes for a long moment as if she wanted to say something, but turned away instead. “Good night.”
She was a couple of yards away when he nodded at the nearest security guard so he’d follow her and keep her safe from the drunks in the parking lot. She started when she noticed the yellow shirt trailing behind her, but she offered him a timid smile and continued toward the bus.
Ensured of Toni’s safety, Logan returned to the bar.
“About time he ditched the stiff,” Logan heard Steve yell as soon as he got inside. “I thought maybe he was too pussy whipped to have any real fun tonight.”
Pussy whipped? Please.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Logan said, lifting a hand toward the bar and finding it immediately filled with his usual drink—a Godfather. He chugged it in two gulps and extended his arm for a refill.
“This is Candace,” Steve introduced the gorgeous blonde on his right. “And Tonya,” He nodded to the equally gorgeous black woman on his left. “Oh, and you met Stacia earlier.” The same brunette Steve had banged backstage. She must be exceptional if he hadn’t ditched her yet.
“Ladies,” Logan said, lifting his fresh cocktail in their direction.
After the hi’s and great-to-meet-yous, Stacia moved to stand so close to Logan that her breast was pressed firmly into his arm. “What are you having?” she asked, eyeing his drink. Her perfume assailed his nostrils, and his nose twitched.
“If he had half a brain, he’d be having you,” Steve said and lifted his glass at her.
If he hadn’t just finished with Toni, yeah, it probably would have been Stacia. But he felt absolutely no interest in her, and he could only attribute his disinterest to having already had sex a handful of times that day. With the same woman. Which rarely happened.
“It’s a Godfather,” Logan said. “Scotch and amaretto.”
“Can I taste it?”
Knowing he could have as many as he wanted, he handed his drink to Stacia. She lifted it to her ruby lips and sipped, her eyes smoldering into his as she licked the rim of his glass. “Mmm,” she purred.
Okay, normally if a hot woman pressed her tit into his arm and made out with the glass he’d just sipped from while producing those kinds of sounds and offering him come over here and fuck me glances, his dick would have been bursting through the zipper of his jeans. But he didn’t feel so much as a tingle down below. There was some weird shit going down here. He must be getting old or something.
“It’s good, right?” Logan said.
“Strong,” she murmured. She rubbed her boob into his arm as she turned toward him and tried to hand the lowball glass back to him.
“You keep that one,” he said, extending a hand toward the bar for a fresh drink.
Reagan appeared unexpectedly beside him and practically shoved Stacia to the floor in her quest to get in next to him. Definitely some weird shit going down here. Reagan had never come on to him before. And it soon became apparent that she wasn’t coming on to him now as she jabbered about the concert and how she’d twisted her ankle in her damned high-heeled boots and how she wasn’t going to wear them anymore. She was going to wear her combat boots. Fuck Sam’s idea of feminine beauty. Blah blah blah. Eventually Stacia got tired of standing behind Reagan and making huffing sounds with her arms crossed. She wandered off to find less annoying company.
“Cock block,” Reagan whispered in Logan’s ear and then danced away.
What did she mean by that?
He glanced over at Steve, who was making out with the two women he’d introduced earlier. Hell if Logan could remember either of their names. Normally Steve’s behavior would have gotten Logan in the mood to one-up his bro and make out with three women at once, but he didn’t see a single woman who interested him, much less three of them.
Weird, weird shit going down here.
He begged his leave from the horn dog across from him and sought less promiscuous company. But Dare was with his brother—coming between that pair was an exercise in futility—and Max had disappeared for the evening. Maybe Max had already gone back to the bus. Maybe Logan should go back to the bus as well. Not to be with Toni. Just because this party was kind of dead. He usually had a lot more fun at these things. What the hell was wrong with him tonight? Maybe he was just tired. Or maybe he needed another drink. Or maybe he missed Toni.