Free A Lush Betrayal by Selena Laurence Page A

I’m glad he knows to hydrate. I’m also glad that I’m not the one who has to give him a kiss as he walks offstage. Gag.
    And of course, the missing member is the ever-elusive Joss Jamison. Truth be told, I’ve worried about him all day since his blowup at Mike. The guy I saw this morning was so different from the one I’d spent time with the last few days. I’m not sure what to think about him. And as pissed as it makes me, my sister’s warnings keep ringing through my head. I wish like hell she’d never said anything because now I don’t know whether it’s my own gut telling me to be cautious or my inner Tammy.
    I’m leading one of the freelancers back to the green room so he can get some shots of Colin and Walsh in all their binge-eating glory when I notice a door ajar farther down the hall.
    “Go on in and take some shots of those two,” I tell the guy. He nods and goes on his way, while I head down the hall. As I get closer, I hear quiet singing and a guitar being strummed.
    “She walked on water like down on the wind,
    And all the while, my heart it did spin.
    But when I followed, I learned the hard truth,
    And I’ve been drowning ever since.
    Drowning ever since.
    Drowning.”
    I poke my head in the doorway and see Joss sitting on a chair, acoustic guitar in hand, singing a song I’ve never heard before. He stops and writes some things down on his iPad that’s sitting on the table in front of him then starts to strum again. I knock gently on the doorframe. He looks up abruptly, obviously so caught up in what he was doing that he had no idea I was standing there.
    As he focuses on me, a smile spreads across his face, and it is so heartstoppingly beautiful I’m speechless for a moment. I can’t imagine how the woman Joss Jamison will eventually fall in love with will be able to go about her daily activities if he’s smiling at her. Because if this is the smile he gives an acquaintance, the smile he’d give the love of his life must be heaven-sent.
    “Am I interrupting your pre-show routine?” I ask quietly.
    “No,” he says as he stands and gestures for me to come in. “You’re never an interruption, Mel. You want anything? A soda or water?” He walks to the nearby table with food and drinks laid out.
    “I’m good, thanks. You guys have more food around than a grocery store. I’m going to weigh two hundred pounds by the time the tour is done.”
    He laughs and it sends a little ripple down my spine that settles somewhere low it shouldn’t. It ought to be illegal for someone to be as sexy as him.
    “Well, you know, with four guys in their twenties, food is sort of essential. Although I imagine in a few more years we’ll need to cut back before we start looking more like Meatloaf and less like Jon Bon Jovi.”
    “Just don’t tell that to Colin,” I smirk.
    He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, well, as long as there’s pizza available 24/7, he’ll be okay.” He opens a bottle of water and takes a long drink. I watch the curve of his neck as his head is thrown back. Suddenly, with perfect clarity, I understand the origins of the term ‘sex on a stick.’ Someone who can make drinking from a plastic water bottle erotic is in a class by himself.
    “So, can I do something for you, Miss Documentarian?” he asks when he’s done.
    “Ah, no, I was just going around watching everyone’s pre-show routines, wondering what you all did to get ready and why.”
    He chuckles. “So you got pics of Mike bouncing around backstage and Colin and Walsh bullshitting and eating the entire green room’s worth of snacks?”
    I laugh. “Pretty much.”
    “And now you want to know what the mysterious front man does to get ready, huh?” He scratches his head and looks kind of embarrassed.
    “Only if you’re comfortable telling me,” I answer, although I’m really hoping he’ll share this part of himself with me. For some reason he is like a puzzle I’m intent on solving. There are so many facets to him.