Destroyed (Lost in Oblivion, #3)(73)



“Morning.”

Simon’s gaze swiveled to Margo and he swallowed a groan. The heat meant Margo wore a helluva lot less than she usually did. Like the boxer shorts and racerback tank top she habitually wore to sleep.

God help him.

They’d both agreed to keep sex off the bus. Well, mostly he’d gotten the directive from Margo, but knowing it was only Nick on the bus with them gave him the heebs.

No need to step into that arena with him. Things had been different a few years ago. The women he’d hooked up with had been transient. This was a whole different kind of…thing.

It wasn’t a relationship. It was more like frenetic sex in any and all available places. Last night had been in the stairwell between the venue and the locker room.

Christ, she’d tried to blow the top of his head off when she’d pushed him against the wall and sucked him off in three minutes flat. Then walked away with a flick of her tongue at the corner of her mouth.

His cum.

There, on the edge of her mouth. And she’d neatly licked her lips clean and went about her business.

Now she would sit across from him on the bus in her all purple night clothes and he wasn’t supposed to jump her.

How had his life come to this?

“Sleep all right?”

She nodded and unwound the braid she always wore to bed. Her eyes were heavy and her cheeks rosy with fresh creases on them from her pillow.

She was f*cking beautiful without a lick of makeup on.

It was disgusting.

“How long until we arrive, Joe?” Margo asked.

“You’ve got a good six hours, Miss Margo.”

She tipped her head back. “Ugh. I should have slept longer.” With a disgusted groan, she stood and rummaged through the coffee cupboard. “What are you working on?”

“Nothing.” Simon looked down at his notebook. He’d been scribbling lyrics in the margins, but none of them went together. A verse, then a bridge of another song and a chorus of yet another.

None of them were good either.

In the middle was an owl that looked more like a dragon in disguise. He was pretty f*cked up. Probably because he’d started it in his bunk last night when he’d had too much wine.

Damn Lila for bringing wine onto the tour. He was enjoying it more than booze lately. There had to be something wrong with him.

“Doesn’t look like nothing.” She tipped her head. “Looks like one of the little guys from How to Train Your Dragon.”

“Yes. Thank you. I couldn’t figure out how I’d come up with it.”

“We were on a cartoon kick last week.”

“Yes, you made us watch Tangled four times.”

She smirked over her shoulder as she added milk to her coffee. “You know you liked it.”

He and Nick had watched it a fifth time without her, but she didn’t need to know that. “More like we were thinking up ways she could use her hair for more than its healing properties.”

“Perv.”

“Indeed.”

She picked up the remote. “Want to watch Charmed?”

Simon stretched out his legs on the couch. “I do love me some Piper Halliwell.”

“Really? I thought you liked Phoebe.”

“Nah, I like the one who can blow up shit.”

“Huh.” She curled onto her couch and hit play on their Netflix account. “You surprise me sometimes.”

“Yeah, well, you surprise me every day.”

She turned her attention to him and gave him her half frown, half smile thing. It was so cute because it made her freckly nose scrunch up.

They passed the time watching the three witch sisters blow up shit, discover Phoebe’s boyfriend was a demon, and help random idiots in every episode.

Somehow scintillating stuff.

Nick came out during hour two and watched with them.

“Okay boys and girl. T-minus thirty.”

Margo jumped up off the couch and sprinted for the showers.

Nick stood. “No…dammit.” The door slammed and the snick of the lock made him groan. “Every time.”

“I’m getting to like cold showers.”

Nick snorted. “You need them for a whole different reason.”

Simon turned in his seat, spreading his arms across the length of the couch. “It’s hard being me.”

“Oh yeah, hardship of the ages.”

“You don’t know.”

Nick rolled his eyes. “You want to take the interview for the radio station or me?”

“I’ll get the one after the show.”

Nick nodded. “Sounds good.”

By the time they pulled into Alpharetta, he and Nick had a game plan and a setlist.

“So, no on ‘Lit’ and ‘Taste of Candy’?”

Simon shrugged. “Not feeling ‘Lit’ lately. If you want to do a ‘Taste of Candy/Sugar Kiss’ medley, that’s cool.”

“Hmm. Maybe.” Nick scribbled in the little Moleskin notebook he kept in his pocket at all times. It had every setlist from the start of the tour in it. And his off the wall grading system, as well.

Margo scooted across the narrow passage between the bathroom and her bunk, flashing a lot of leg.

Christ. Damp Margo did not need to be in his head today.

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