Part 1 (2/2)

”I was joking! Do I look like I could hold a horde of salivating girls off the pretty-boy rock star?”

Bryn continues to regard me with suspicion and I sigh. ”Is there anything to drink?” Before he can give his indignant response, I add, ”Water. I'm tired after the trip. I'm not a big drinker.”

”That's one good thing...” Bryn disappears and returns with a litre bottle of water, which he throws at me and I deftly catch.

”I'm not interested in who you all are, I just want the experience of doing this. I'll stick to the background, okay?”

Bryn studies me. ”No. I don't like you around this scene.”

”I promise I won't tell Mum what naughty things you get up to.”

”Very funny, Tegan. Listen, we've mellowed, but this isn't the environment for a girl.”

My mouth falls open; Bryn doesn't usually talk down to women. ”I'd like to hear you say that to Ruby Riot's lead singer! She'd have your b.a.l.l.s for that.”

”Ruby's different.”

”Why? She's not much older than me!”

”Lots of reasons. Tegan, you can't tour with us.”

”I'm here, aren't I? Tough.” I put my feet on the nearby low table and drink the water, waiting for Bryn's next move.

”Jesus!” Bryn drags his phone from his pocket and hits the screen. Watching me with a tired look, he barks at the unfortunate person who answers. ”Who's tour managing? I need their help.”

Bryn walks into the nearby bedroom, continuing his conversation and I shuffle down into the cus.h.i.+ons. Best he sorts this soon. I yawn, ignoring my growling stomach and fight against posting a Twitter update about my arrival.

A couple of minutes later, Bryn reappears, crosses toward me, and grabs my arm. ”Right. You. Downstairs.”

I drag my arm away. ”I'm not leaving!”

”Yeah, not tonight. Come on.” He pulls open the door and heads out.

”Or tomorrow!” I call after him as I follow. The heavy door slams shut behind me. ”You promised!”

My voice echoes along the quiet corridor as Bryn strides along the carpeted floor to the elevators.

As I reach him, the elevator door slides open and we step into the confined s.p.a.ce. ”Does Mum know you came here?” he asks.

”Kind of.”

”Kind of?”

The doors close and I rest against the wall as Bryn hits the b.u.t.ton. ”I told Mum I was travelling again. She's cool with what I do as long as I'm back for uni in September.” I pause. ”You should take a leaf out of her book and notice that I've grown up.”

”I'd noticed,” says Bryn as the elevator moves down, lurching my stomach. ”And that is the problem.”

Bryn ushers me to a quiet cafe area close to the lobby, the s.p.a.ce filled with empty metal tables surrounded by high-backed upholstered chairs. I sit and pull some cash from my back pocket and grab a menu. ”I'm starving.”

”I'll buy you something. What do you want?”

”No, it's okay. I can pay my own way.” I offer a Euro note. ”Just a sandwich. Any kind is fine.”

He ignores the money and heads off, returning a few moments later with Turkish bread wrapped in paper and a china cup of coffee.

”Thanks, Bryn.”

He sighs. ”No problem. I'll sort you a room once Tina comes down here to do whatever she needs to.”

”Cool, thanks.” I unwrap the sandwich and take a huge bite, savouring the freshness of the cheese and ham. The meal on the plane over here wasn't enough to fill a child.

I watch him leave, grateful he's not expecting me to sleep on his sofa, and pull out my phone to post the update I've itched to. Since I mentioned - all right, announced - that I was in the privileged position of spending six weeks on tour with Blue Phoenix and Ruby Riot, my daily blog hits have quadrupled. Not to mention my Instagram and Twitter followers. My travel blog suddenly became a whole lot more interesting since I replaced pictures of Thai beaches with rock stars.

After posting a quick update, I sip my latte, deciding these surroundings are definitely better than my friend's floor in London.

Bryn returns and thrusts a keycard at me. ”Room. Go. I'll bring your bag in a few. I need to sort something out.”

”It had better not been a plane ticket home,” I retort.

Bryn scowls again. What the h.e.l.l is he behaving like this for? For the last four years, I've spoken to him about this; and after three years of nagging, he said when I was eighteen I could come on tour. Blue Phoenix didn't tour the year I turned eighteen; then the tour last year was cut short amongst all the Blue Phoenix dramas, so I headed overseas while I waited, embarking on a mini-tour of my own. Bryn evidently thought I'd continue to do my own thing and forget about the tour. Wrong. Who'd miss a chance of touring with the world's biggest rock band?

Blowing Bryn a kiss, which he responds to with a shake of his head, I walk back to the elevator. When I check the number on the keycard, I groan. The same floor as Bryn. I bet he's booked me in next to him so he can make sure I'm not ravished by the roadies.

I giggle at the image of Bryn following me around and protecting my honour. He probably still thinks I'm a virgin. Right, how many twenty-year-old virgins has he come across in the last few years? Not many, I'll bet. Not that I'm Miss s.e.xually Liberated, I had a serious boyfriend at school, and since him, one other guy. Both times the relations.h.i.+p was loving and exclusive, but our lives went in different directions. The backpacking culture saw a lot of bed hopping but that's not for me.

I step back into the quiet corridor of Bryn's floor. The setting sun s.h.i.+nes through the floor to ceiling window at the opposite end of the long hallway, filtering light across the carpet and creating dazzling rays. From this height, I'll have an awesome view of the city to add to my collection.

”Hey!”

I look over my shoulder at the owner of the voice. My eyes take a moment to focus after staring at the sunlight, until I see a blond guy striding down the hallway. From his swagger, I don't have to wait for him to approach before I realise who this is.

The guy halts short of me and eyes the colour of sapphire switch from anger to interest as he checks me out. I arch a 'yeah?' eyebrow at him and take in the face and physique of the unmistakable Jax Lewis.

This guy's on the edge between man and boy, his tall frame filled out with hard muscles beneath the t-s.h.i.+rt - I've seen the pictures - but he still holds the wiry frame of a teen. The effect he's having on me is one hundred percent man though, my insides don't normally disintegrate into molten heat when I look at a guy.

Jax's blond fringe dips into his eyes as he rubs a finger along his full lips. Is he as lost at what to say to me as I am to him? Surely not. Guys as hot as this are never lost for words. Oh yeah, h-o-t and he knows it because he soon switches to a slow, seductive smile. I'm too busy checking out the way his jeans fit his long legs and picturing myself running my nails across his firm abs to respond to that.

Sorry, big brother but this is going to be tricky.

”How did you find your way up here?” he asks with his oh-so-English accent that melts the hearts and panties of American fans.

”The elevator. I decided the stairs would take too long.”

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