Free Backstage Pass: All Access by Elizabeth Nelson Page A

“You’re smoking now?”
    He stare d blankly, then blinked. “No.”
    “I am,” the blonde purr ed and held out a box of smokes. “Want one?”
    I stare d from the cigarettes to her mouth to Jesse’s. The implication of how he smelled like her cigarette smoke was clear. I grabbed his arm and pulled him into the master bathroom, kicking two couples out in the process. Jesse made another grab for me, but I easily evaded his drunken attempt.
    “Are you mad?” He s at down heavily on the toilet.
    “ I’m trying really hard not to be, Jesse.” I crossed my arms and paced the floor.
    “Where have you been, I thought you were coming up here after the concert.”
    I didn’t want to tell him that I’d fallen asleep and end up giving him even a micro-inch of leeway. This wasn’t about me. “I was waiting for you to call. I thought you were going to text me when you got back here.”
    He slap ped his forehead. “I forgot. Scout said he was going to go get you and then by the time I saw him again—I, well . . .” He reached for me and now I was mad. “I’m sorry.”
    I shook my head and stood there seething. Someone pushed through the door and I spun, but they took one look at me and backed out of the room.
    “I should go.”
    He jumped up and crossed to me. “Don’t. Please don’t go. Help me down to your room so we can talk.”
    I want ed to leave. I wanted to go all the way home and deal with this when he was done with the tour, but I knew if I left now we would never get this put back together.
    “Where’s the fighter, Sasha? Get mad. Don’t run.” He kissed my hair, my cheeks, my ears. I could still smell her smoke and another surge of nausea gripped my guts. Before we did anything he had to shower and get the skank off of him.
    “Everyone will see you. There’s no sneaking out of here.”
    He tipped my chin up and sobered up just long enough. “Then hold your head high, walk out of here, and know I’m right behind you.”
    I stare d at him and tried to figure out if he was telling the truth and at the same time weighing the odds of us actually being able to pull that off. He cradled my face in his hands and I wanted this to work. I knew what this was going to look like when I took him back, and while I was super not okay with him macking on anything in a skirt, for now I needed to focus on getting him out of here before we handled that new rule. “Stay behind me. I’m not stopping and I’m not coming back for you.” I prayed he was sober enough to hear the other message behind what I was saying.
    “Loud and clear, baby. Lead the way.”
    It took some creativity, but I managed to get us out of the room, down the hall and to the elevator before anyone of note saw us, and even then, it was only the roadie who’d given me the backstage passes. I stared at him and dared him to stop us. He gave me a chin jut of acceptance as the elevator doors slid closed. A high-pitched voice tried to point out our escape, but we were already headed down to my floor before what she said got through.
    I led him to my room, peeling his hands off me the entire time. I was so not in the mood for any of that until he was wearing nothing but the scent of hotel soap. I ushered him straight into the bathroom and pointed at the shower. “Clean up, then we’ll talk about what just happened.”
    Like a wounded pup , he did what he was told and I sat down hard on the end of the bed and tried to quit shaking.
    Jesse manage d to be fast about the shower. When he came out with nothing more than a towel wrapped around his hips, I had a hard time staying mad at him. He looked a little more sobered up.
    I twisted my hands and tried to figure out where to start to put us back together. I was a mess.
    He s at down on the bed next to me and carefully gathered my hand. He stared at my fingers. “I am so sorry, Sasha. I thought I’d be better at this.”
    My voice clog ged in my throat. “At what?”
    He trace d the line of my