Page 32 of Just Wait

I nod. “I’d kill for a bottle of water or a Dr Pepper.”

“You got it.” His hand leaves my back, and he swaggers deeper into the room. There’s a small table in the back corner with an attendant behind it.

Before tonight, I hadn’t been close to Liminal’s drummer, but I like him. He’s way more down to earth than I would expect from a member of a world-famous rock band.

I always thought he would be stuck up in that edgy, emo way some guys are.

Riser has dark olive skin and wavy brownish-black hair that’s long on top and shaved all the way around. Dual snake-bite piercings frame his lower lip while tattoos line his skin from his fingers up to his neck. They even spill onto the underside of his jaw and around his jawline and up to his temples.

Face tattoos are something I could never pull off, but they fit his style. He’s calm and centering in a way that’s both at odds with his appearance and hard to explain.

I was about three seconds away from an ugly breakdown when he pulled me in for a hug, and his chamomile scent soothed my frayed edges enough that I was able to keep it together.

“Lumen,” Malcolm calls from the couch on the far wall as he pulls his arm off the back, waving me over.

They usually wear their masks at the after-parties, at least on the nights when they wore them during the performance, but I guess they aren’t going that route tonight.

A man sits in a chair next to Malcolm. It’s obvious that he pulled it over from somewhere else and that, combined with the small microphone and notebook, indicates he’s probably the reporter Riser mentioned.

The couch around Malcolm is filled with women, and more stand near the arm on the side he’s perched on.

I don’t see the woman from earlier, and that’s a small miracle, but I’m guessing she stayed with Tangled Desires.

I’m a little raw at the moment.

It’s probably best if I just linger around until this thing is done.

Offering an awkward wave, I step to the wall next to the doorway, leaning against it. My phone was dead, so I left it charging on Liminal’s bus, but I’m regretting that. If I had it, I could at least pretend to have something to do.

Malcolm shoves off the couch, coming over.

My face heats.

Why has he made it his personal mission to look out for me?

It makes no sense, but I’m grateful.

It’ll give me a few extra days to figure stuff out. Maybe he’s just one of those friendly, outgoing people who looks out for others.

“I was freaking the fuck out, thinking you might try to leave.” Malcolm grabs my hand, running his thumb over the side of my palm. “I would have kicked Riser’s ass if he let you out of his sight.”

An unexpected bark of laughter escapes my lips. “He said the same thing.”

The more confusing part is why.

“He knows me well.” Mal smirks, and sexy little dimples appear faintly in his cheeks.

How have I not noticed those before?

My nostrils flare, catching a whiff of something.

It’s shocking and stormy.

Chaotic.

Goose bumps rise on my arms.

What the hell is that smell?