Page 38 of Just Wait

“Thanks,” she says before disappearing into the bedroom at the back of the bus.

I go back to messing around on my phone, and less than five minutes later, she comes stomping down the hallway, holding her phone out.

My head tilts, and I drop my phone into my lap. She’s in tiny maroon pajama shorts and a light pink top that has kittens in various designs. They’re the color of her shorts, and it’s a cute set.

The look on her face clicks in my mind, and I focus on that.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, immediately on edge.

“I left my phone on the bus to charge while I went to the meet and greet,” she says, her wet hair falling around her face. “I have thirty-seven missed calls and over a hundred texts.”

“From your ex?”

If she says yes, I’m going to have to go over there and knock his ass out. Who knows if he’s the type to take the punch, understanding he deserves it. Or he might be a little bitch about it and try to press charges.

She steps into the living room and perches on the other end of the couch. “I’m sure some of them are from him, but most of them are from friends, family, and old coworkers. Oh, and random people I haven’t talked to since high school.”

“Ahh, fuck,” I mutter, shaking my head.

I had a bad feeling that would happen.

Anyone and everyone she’s ever known will reach out, wanting the details of why we stopped the show to pull her out of the crowd. If things didn’t settle down, I was going to step over and tell Benji to get someone out there to bring her backstage, but Mal was already jumping down.

His heart was in the right place. He just doesn’t always have the forethought to think through his actions.

This is our first tour in over a year, since we were delayed when they replaced Drew. Then we had Randy for a month. The press is frothing at the mouth to find something they can publish to get clicks.

I’m sure it does look suspicious that, during the first five weeks of the tour, we haven’t been spotted with any women. Well, they’re around backstage and at the after-party, but there haven’t been any paparazzi pictures of them streaming off the bus in quite some time. They must assume one, or all, of us got a girlfriend.

“Some of these people don’t even know I came on tour with Theo,” she whispers.

“The best thing you can do is put the phone down.” I turn toward her, wrapping my hand around hers. It’s inappropriate, but I just can’t seem to help myself as I run my thumb over her inner wrist. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a way you didn’t mean, sold to the press, or posted on social media for the world to see.”

My nose twitches.

Her scent is muted from her shower, but it’s easy enough to pick out her pears and roses scent. Though it’s not as acrid as earlier in the hallway, it’s still off, and it makes my skin itch.

It’s an unexpected reaction.

I’m not heartless, but I don’t go out of my way to make other people’s problems my own. And yet, my system is trying to convince me to pull her into my lap and purr until she’s calm again. That’s random as fuck, considering I’m not even sure whether she’s an omega.

“You talked to Theo after I left,” she says, dropping her phone like it’s on fire. “Did he see… Is that why⁠—”

“No,” I say, pulling my hand away when I realize I’m still holding hers. “He had no idea what I was talking about when I mentioned it.”

“Oh.” She grimaces, shaking her head. “I thought maybe…”

“You thought maybe he saw the pictures of Malcolm swiping your hair out of the way to check that mark on your cheek and assumed the worst?” I growl, bringing my fingers to brush over the bruise that’s starting to form. “Even if he had, it wouldn’t excuse his shitty behavior.”

Lumen blanches, and I curse myself for not thinking before I speak.

“No, I know.” Her gaze falls to her lap. “Do you have any idea how long it’ll take before this blows over?”

“A week or two.” I force my hand away from her soft skin. “Basically, however long it takes for the next story to explode.”

“But if I’m not around you guys, no one will even put it together that it’s me, right?” Her voice sounds a little too hopeful, and I hate that I have to be truthful.

“You’re already getting calls and texts, so I can’t make that kind of guarantee,” I say, trying to soften the blow of my words by keeping my voice light. “Some of it might come down to how your ex acts and what he decides to say about your breakup.”