Music of the Heart (Runaway Train #1)(2)
“She’s supposed to be on the bus,” the roadie replied.
The driver eyed my luggage and guitar case. “You sure?”
I huffed exasperatedly as I waved the pass around my neck at him. “Um, yeah, the guys are going to be really ticked if you leave without me,” I snapped.
The roadie snorted. “Guess she’s their entertainment for the road.”
“I’m their sister, thank you very much.”
“Whatever ya say, babe. No judgment from me,” the driver replied. He put down his biscuit and headset and leaned forward to take my guitar case. “The guys are—”
“Still asleep. Yeah, I know, and trust me, I also know better than to disturb them!” I replied as I climbed up the stairs. I turned around as the roadie shoved my suitcase at me. “Thanks. You’ve been so much help.”
He grumbled something under his breath before stalking away. The driver closed and locked the door before easing back down in his seat.
Motioning towards the living area, I said, “I’ll just go make myself comfortable until the guys wake up.”
“Fine,” he muttered before putting on his headset. I guess he was more than ready to tune me out.
I walked down the aisle and flopped into one of the captain’s chair. Ugh, what an absolutely shitty morning. Rubbing my temples, I tried soothing the headache that was already forming. Not only was it brought on by the stressful morning, but I hadn’t eaten anything yet, which was a huge no-no for me with my hypoglycemia. I’d overslept and been in such a rush to get to the airport that I had forgotten to grab the snack bag my mom, who still couldn’t grasp I was twenty-one not twelve, had packed for me. I didn’t dare take a peek in the cabinets to see what sustenance the boys might have. I was pretty sure they lived from one fast food joint to the next.
Instead, I leaned back and closed my eyes, hoping a quick nap might get rid of my headache. It wasn’t long before the gentle sway of the bus rolling along the highway lulled me to sleep.
When I woke up, my neck and head ached from banging against the large picture window. Raising my hands over my head, I stretched and yawned. The view outside boasted wheat fields spanning as long and far as I could see. Jeez, how long had I been out? A glance at my phone showed almost an hour. I whirled around in the captain’s chair to find the living area of the bus still empty and quiet as a tomb.
The boys must’ve been on one of their coma binges after an adrenaline-sucking weekend. Sometimes they could go for forty-eight straight hours without sleep, but then they would crash and burn for a whole day.
I picked up my phone and texted Gabe. Wake up, sleepyhead! Feelin’ lonely. My bros suck at welcoming their baby sister!
It was only a second before my phone buzzed. Hey Little Girl. Come on back to the bedroom. I’m just chillin’
I smiled and texted, B right there
Pulling myself out of the chair, I made my way past the bunks where Eli and Micah snored. I eased the bedroom door open, finding the room bathed in darkness. “Gabe?”
I was surprised not to find the television on or him playing Xbox. “I just texted you, so don’t think you’re going to pretend you’re asleep or something.”
A mound of clothes caused me to stumble forward, and I pitched onto the side of the bed. “Gabriel Andrew Renard, if this is your idea of a joke, it isn’t funny!”
A long moan erupted from underneath the covers as a body shifted toward me. When I was little, the boys, Gabe especially, used to love to scare me. I had a feeling where this was heading, and after the morning I’d had, I wasn’t in the mood. “Okay, fine. If you’re going to be a jerk, then I’m going back outside.” I grunted with frustration and started to hoist myself off the bed.
An arm snaked around my waist, jerking me down further onto the mattress. “What—” I started before the warm flesh of a man’s body pushed me onto my back and covered me with his weight. It took all of one second to realize this was so not Gabe.
Scorching hot lips met my own, and I shuddered. They pressed eagerly and with intense longing while fingers wrapped and tangled their way through my hair. When I opened my mouth to protest, a tongue darted inside, dancing tantalizing against my own.
For a moment, my traitorous body enjoyed the sensations pulsing through me. Then I realized I was allowing a stranger some heavy first base action while his hand started to round second. With all the strength I had, I pushed against him.
“Get off me!” I screeched.
He ignored me as his fingers fisted the hem of my dress. A lazy chuckle erupted from him. “Bree, babe, what the hell are you doing wearing clothes to bed?”
Bree? This jerk was mauling me because he thought I was someone else. I gritted my teeth and smacked his bare, and very sculpted, chest. “I’m not Bree!”
The hands left my body, and I heard fumbling above me. The light on the bedside table flicked on. I sucked in a breath at the drop-dead gorgeous face hovering over mine. His dark hair was buzzed short, and he had several piercings in his ears. Blue eyes, hazy with a mixture of sleep deprivation and desire, stared down at me. He drank in my appearance, stopping to linger on my heaving chest and how my dress had bunched up my thighs. A seductive grin stretched across his face. “No, you’re definitely not Bree. You put her to shame, Angel.”
When he started to lean over to kiss me again, I brought my hand in front of his face. “Look, if Gabe put you up to this, the joke is up. You got me. Ha, ha.”