Destroyed (Lost in Oblivion, #3)(72)

Margo followed Lila onto the bus. It was huge. The front was fashioned with a chair that she was sure bus drivers in the city would drool over. Then there was a rather large common area that had couches on either side beneath the tinted windows.

Lila pressed in a knob at the front of the bus and revealed a guitar holder and shelving units full of notebooks and pens. There was another holder on the door for another guitar, or maybe one of her violins.

“They do a lot of writing on the road. Passes the time.” She nodded to the bottom shelf. “Simon is forever drawing so be careful if you have your own notebook. He’s a thief.”

Margo laughed. “I’ll remember that.”

“The couches convert to a larger mattress.” She pulled down a hidden handle and slid the couch cushion out like a trundle bed. “I try not to think about what they could possibly do on those things, but it’s usually reserved for extra guests on the bus. A family member coming to visit, that sort of deal.”

Margo’s eyes widened. A groupie banging station. Well, that was a different way to look at things.

Lila rolled her eyes. “Yeah. As I said, don’t think about it too much or you will end up carrying around a can of Lysol.”

“Too late.”

“Kitchenette and microwave.” She opened slim cupboards that were remarkably deep. “Just let me know what kind of thing you want.” She reached up to the top. “This one is a freezer, so you can get little dinners for the long rides.”

“You think of everything.”

“My job.” Lila kept moving. “And back here are the bunks. This bus was outfitted for four, so you can pick up or down.”

“They didn’t spread out?”

Lila shrugged. “They have their rituals.”

She peeked into the bunk. It was plenty big enough to sleep in and long enough for her height. That was something new.

“Bathroom there.”

Margo opened the door, expecting a closet but found a huge glass shower, a commode, and a sink. “Holy crap.”

“Yeah, all the guys ever asked for was a better bathroom, so we went with really nice.”

“I think that’s bigger than my second bathroom in my house.”

Lila laughed. “So there you have it. You can stay with me or with the heathens.”

The idea of rooming with Lila had merit. They got along well and both tended toward the quiet. But if she was on the bus with Simon and Nick, she might be able to see how they wrote together.

Watch the build of a song from the ground up.

She also got the dirty socks and unfortunate bodily functions of males in the con column.

But to be surrounded by music again? A different kind of music?

“I can see it on your face.”

“The music thing.”

Lila nodded. “You’ve got the bug. I can see it. Nick can be a little peckish about sharing when it comes to music, but I bet you can get around him. Simon…he is always scribbling. He had no problem collaborating.”

“It seems like it could be amazing.”

“The only thing I will tell you is…being a woman and knowing what’s going on because I have eyes.”

Margo crossed her arms over her chest.

“Drop the defensive act. We all know you and Simon are…” She waved her hand. “Doing stuff.”

“Great.”

“It’s no big deal. I would just recommend that you keep it off the bus. Things can get hairy and this should be a safe haven for you and for everyone.”

Margo relaxed. “That’s a good idea, actually.”

“I have them.”

“That you do.”

“Okay, let’s go get your stuff from my hotel room and get you settled.”

“Good deal.”

They turned and Simon stood in the doorway. “Ladies.”

“You have a new roommate.”

Simon’s eyes fired then did that slumberous I-just-got-out-of-bed thing and Margo’s skin prickled with goosebumps. Definitely keeping sex off the bus.

“Welcome aboard, Violin Girl.”

“Thanks,” she said quietly.

“Hurry back, now. I love bedtime stories.”

“Simon,” Lila warned.

“What?” He grinned.

Keeping sex off the bus was going to require Herculean strength.

Definitely.





16





Simon blew on his mug of ginger honey tea and stared out the window. The lush green crept out from the median and along the sides of the highway. With them heading across the country, he wasn’t sure how much longer they’d have green and vibrant instead of brown from lack of rain.

He grinned as the Brooklyn Dawn bus passed them with a yawning Jamie sitting in the sun. They didn’t have the super-tinted windows that Oblivion’s bus did and were probably dying. The sun had been ruthless for the last few days. It was mid-June and they were entering the fourth week of the tour.

As much as the thick heat of Georgia hurt to think about, he’d appreciated the heavy moisture. His throat did, especially. His vocal cords had actually felt well-lubricated.

The outdoor amphitheaters were dry as dust in most towns. Of course the Midwest was having a record-breaking heat wave, and that’s where they were headed next.