“Shh,” he says as his fingers push my underwear out of the way. “No sex. I’m just kissing you. Just kissing,” he murmurs, and his hot breath warms the flesh quivering beneath it.
“Um,” I whisper nervously, but when his mouth finds the center of me, I gasp, “Oh! Oh, okay. Just kissing . . .”
Chapter 32
Sam holds the hotel key card above the slot and shoots me a smoldering look. “You know I’m going to attack you as soon as we get inside, right?”
I keep my expression blank. “Well, I’d like to unpack first, take a shower, and relax.”
“Screw unpacking but hell yes to a shower.” He slides the key into the lock and opens the door.
I rush past him, dropping my suitcase near the closet. Since the room is a standard double, I run behind the chair in the corner.
Within seconds, Sam’s leaning over the chair, with his hands bracing the wall on both sides of my head. “The chair ain’t gonna stop me, honey.”
I raise a brow. “You didn’t just call me honey.”
“I did,” he says, grinning as he bends down and runs his lips over my chin, down my neck, and into my cleavage. He sucks the skin there, and my knees start turning to mush. One of his hands slides down the wall and pulls my tank top lower, giving his lips more access to the swell of my breasts.
Giving into a rising tide of lust, I am about to slip down the wall when someone pounds at the door.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sam says against my skin. The pounding continues. He stands up as a sneer twists his full lips. “Each one of those fuckers knows why I got my own room.”
The pounding grows louder.
“Let me get it.” I shove at his shoulders.
He steps away from the chair. “Oh no. I’ll get it, and shove a boot up someone’s ass.”
“You’re wearing flip-flops,” I say with a giggle, coming out from behind the chair.
He glares at me over his shoulder before whipping the door open.
Both of our mouths fall open at the sight of the person standing in the doorway.
“Hey, guys,” Seth says, stepping into the room. After kicking the door closed with one of his beat-up checkered Vans, he punches his brother lightly on the arm. “I always wanted to visit California, bro. More like LA but Fresno works.”
Fists clenched at his sides, Sam looks like he’s about to blow up, and I’m aware it has nothing to do with us being interrupted. His expression is angry and worried and desperate all at the same time.
But his brother just crosses his arms and grins at him.
The music blasts above us on the stage. It’s the last show, and the fans are roaring from behind the line of bodyguards. Seth is my shadow as I shoot pictures of screaming fans. I take shot after shot as he looks from the stage to the crowd. As I switch lenses, I catch his shocked expression and understand it instantly. It’s mind-blowing how much Luminescent Juliet’s fan base has grown in the past six weeks. The concert seats are nearly full, and except for the extra-smalls, we’re out of T-shirts today—we sold out completely fifteen minutes after the doors opened.
Sam does his bouncing thing and winks at girls in the front row. Usually, he winks and flirts with me when I’m up here with my camera, but I’m aware he’s not going to go there with Seth next to me. After tearing Seth a new asshole, then calling his mother—who reminded him that Seth is an adult, even if he lives at home still—Romeo plays off us being together as friends once again. Wanting to keep Seth calm, I go with it.
And since Sam had sound checks and interviews for most of the day, Seth has been with me. He’s been polite and kind of quiet. No crazy talk has come out of him all day. He even helped bag T-shirts and hats in the booth in between making runs to the nearest beer stand. Though he’s had a few tall beers, he doesn’t seem drunk, just a bit happy. He offered to buy me a drink, but essentially being at work, I declined.
The band starts their most popular and final song, “Inked My Heart.” I stand in front of center stage, getting pictures of each of them one last time. They all wear sentimental expressions. Justin still appears sad and emotional as he sings. Gabe’s expression is reserved as he beats out the slow tempo. Romeo looks over the crowd with nostalgia. And Sam stares at me, then Seth.
As I lower my camera, I notice Seth looking from Sam to me. But Sam’s attention has returned to the crowd. I start jotting in my notepad, trying to ignore Seth’s stare. I can’t help imagining the direction of his mind, and suspect he’s having thoughts of Sam and me together behind his back. I don’t look at Sam again, just take notes about the energy of the fans.
Right before the song ends, I wrap an arm around Seth’s arm and yell in his ear, “Let’s go get a beer!”
Nodding, he lets me lead him by the arm, and we move to the side of the stage as the song ends. The crowd’s excitement is deafening. The guys in the band move to the front, bowing and waving. Seth stops and watches, his face a picture of concentration.
“Come on. I’ll buy,” I say, trying to tow him backstage as the lights come on. Recorded music bursts out of the speakers, and the roadies appear to change the stage around for Griff.
The guys start coming down the ramp. We’re standing a few feet from it, and though I tug on Seth’s arm again, he jerks away from me. His eyes narrow and his mouth twists into a sinister snarl. He takes a few running steps, and then dives through the air at Gabe. I gasp. It’s a dive of at least five feet.
Eyes wide, Gabe drops his sticks as Seth slams into him. A checkered Van flies up and lands on the ramp. As they tumble toward backstage, a gasp and instant murmur rises from fans who could see the tackle.
Security guards, the band, and I rush across the ramp.
Seth is sprawled across Gabe, hands around his neck. He chokes him for about two seconds before guards wrench him off. Sam rushes in and grabs Gabe, who looks like he is about to kill Seth. Romeo helps Sam hold Gabe back when he goes ballistic, intent on attacking his assailant. Justin and Romeo start dragging him farther backstage, and the guards holding Seth follow. He twists, spits, and kicks at them while yelling obscenities at Gabe.
Shocked, I follow behind. A man next to me is on a radio, instructing someone to call the police. I feel like a lifetime has passed, but the entire episode was less than two minutes.
Justin takes Sam’s place holding Gabe, so Sam can try to calm his brother.
Seth spits in his face. “Fuck you! Fuck you!” he screams. “You won’t listen! You won’t listen! And you’re fucking her! You’re fucking her!”
He thrashes his body in between the guards, and he tries to kick Sam with a bare foot as I wince about being the “her.”
Seth keeps yelling and spitting, but another guard comes over to Sam. Pulling him back, he says something too low for the rest of us to hear. Sam shakes his head violently and grabs the guy by his collar. “Call an ambulance,” Sam loudly hisses.
The guy tries to argue.
“He’s mental! Call an ambulance!” Sam says again, and lets the guy go. “And get him out of here!”
By now, people hanging out backstage are crowding around us.
The guard who Sam yelled at directs the guys holding Seth to a storage room near the exit. Seth yells and spits the entire way. Sam follows behind them. They disappear into the storage room. The remaining guards get people to disperse, and I’m left in the circus of people, completely disoriented.
The crowd finally thins. Gabe, Justin, and Romeo are gone too. Several security guards stand in front of the storage room. After picking up Seth’s lone shoe, I wait as two EMTs push a gurney into the room. I’m relieved to see them and not the police. After a half hour, they push Seth strapped down on a gurney out of the room. Sam walks alongside his brother. His expression is so worried and torn, I have to stop myself from rushing to him.