I hold the box out to her, and she looks at it skeptically. “Maggie wanted you to have these. She said you wanted to wear them tonight.” As soon as I say that, she snatches the box out of my hands, opens it up and squeals like a little girl.
“Etsy is my crack.” She dismisses me with a flick of her hand, but before she slams the door in my face, she pokes her head out and says, “Tell Maggie I said thanks, Pepper.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, “You’re welcome.”
“You know,” a voice says from beside of me, and I look over at Cal who’s guzzling an energy drink. “She’s not the norm for female musicians.”
“So, you’re telling me that passive-aggressiveness and crazy mood swings aren’t the norm?”
“Only if you’re Cilla Craig.”
“Ouch! You sound almost as negative as Sinjin when it comes to her.”
“No, not negative. But there are—and I shit you not—diseases that I’m more drawn to than Cilla.”
Not negative my ass.
“Gross,” I mutter.
Opening the door to the band’s dressing room, he motions for me to go inside. “I speak nothing but the truth,” he says, following behind me. He stops short as soon as he seeks Lucas on the couch.
“I swear if you’re still on her about that f**king body shot—” Lucas growls, but Cal quickly disappears inside of the restroom before he can finish. Lifting his hazel eyes to me, Lucas jerks his head slightly, motioning for me to come over. As soon as I reach him, he pulls me onto his lap so that we’re facing each other, and I can feel his heartbeat drumming against my chest.
“Sin and Wyatt could come in at any moment,” I point out. “And there’s Cal, too.”
He gives the sensitive spot on my sides a sharp squeeze, and I move my hips against him. He groans. “God, you better be ready for St. Louis tomorrow.”
“No show, hotel bed, and a giant tub? Yes, I am.”
“Remember what I told you in Dallas?” He presses thumb presses against the side of my breast. I suck in a little breath between my teeth. “About the thoughts running through my head?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Lifting me off of him, he gets up, and I slide back against the couch cushions. He walks out of the room, singing “Handcuffs”— one of the YTS songs I was introduced to earlier this year. Lucas had written the song about our first encounter with each other. I’m glad Cal’s in the bathroom, and Sinjin and Wyatt are nowhere to be found, so they can’t see how hot my face is.
When Lucas comes back, he’s carrying a large vase of flowers—pink lilies, and red and white roses. “Funny.” I bring my knees up to my chest. “I didn’t take you for a flowers and candy type of guy.”
He sets the vase down on the coffee table in front of me and then bends over me. Heat pools in the pit of my stomach, and I grip the seat cushions I’m sitting on as he traces the tip of his tongue over my lips. When he pulls away, he’s wearing a knowing smile, and he dips his gaze between my legs.
He knows just how wet he’s managed to get me in such a short amount of time.
Before he heads back out of the room, he flicks his thumb roughly across my nipple. “While I would love the credit, and reward, the flowers are from Kylie.”
Pretending that every nerve in my body isn’t on fire, I slide forward on the couch and pick the large white envelope that’s addressed from Kylie McCrae from the cardholder. “Kylie, you are absolutely amazing—”
I stop speaking, though, the moment my eyes land on the words written in messy red ink on the crisp white card I find inside of the envelope.
Sienna-
Congratulations, you’re STILL with him. Maybe you’re more of an idiot than I thought you were. At the end of the day, he will always be tied to me. It’s just a matter of time before he crashes and you go down with him. Have you asked him what he’s keeping from you? Has he offered to tell you?
S.W.
PS: Good luck with this.
Directly beside of the last word, there’s a crookedly drawn arrow, and I feel my stomach clench for a new reason as I shakily flip the card over. Written on the back of the note is a long website address, and I scan my gaze over it carefully, committing it to my memory.
It’s for a YTS fan forum, and scribbled directly below it is the word THIS SITE IS MY FAVORITE written in all capital letters and underlined several times.
“That face, Red,” Lucas’s voice makes me start, and I fold the card back up, sliding it hastily into the envelope. “Didn’t think Kylie would write something deep enough to make you look like that.”
“It’s not—” I begin, but then I stop myself. What good would giving this to Lucas do? If it were a letter from any crazy other than Sam, I would say something about it. But the envelope sitting on my lap? This would only take us several steps backwards. Aside from his usual spurts of moodiness, Lucas has been for the most part happy this tour. And that means that Sam hasn’t been sending him shit like this. Grasping the envelope, I clear my throat.
“It’s not necessarily deep,” I lie. “She just made a really awkward sex joke.”
He seems to take me at my word, but as soon as Cal comes out the restroom wet in nothing but a towel, I lock myself inside. I rip the note into the tiniest shreds my fingers will allow. When I’m done, I flush the pieces down the toilet, determined to put it out of my mind.
But much later, when thoughts of Sam’s cryptic message and her creepy gift of flowers keep me awake hours after the bus rolls out of Chicago, I take my laptop to the galley of the bus and Google the forum that Sam had mentioned.