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.“Please elaborate.”“Like, when I touch her, I hear.music,” Tyler mumbles and palms his face.“Can we drop it?”Shawn looks at me for a second and tentatively reaches a hand out to touch my arm.I flinch a little and then laugh at his facial expression.“I don’t hear anything,” he muses.Hollis crawls over and presses her hands to my face and neck.Jon walks in and stops short.“Are we laying hands on Emily? Is she sick?”Hollis shakes her head.“We’re trying to see if touching her makes us hear music.”He’s intrigued and crosses over to palm my face.I wriggle from underneath his hand, slapping it away.“You could suffocate me.”He snickers.“My wife never complains.”“If he writes music with his hand up your shirt, what the hell happens when you’re fucking?” Shawn is truly interested in the answer.“I write it on her ass,” Tyler says dryly.“That’s pretty hot, actually.” Cam appears to be picturing it in his mind.“He’s lying.We’re not.” My mouth won’t stop moving like I’m gasping for air.“That’s crazy.It’s.”Hollis holds her hands in the air.“Obvious? Is that the word you’re looking for?”Jon puts his arm around his wife and pulls her close.“It makes it easier if you admit it.Just stop lying.”Tyler glances back down at the page in his hand, and I can see the beginnings of a smile.“You’re right.I was lying.I’ve never written on her ass.”Chapter Twenty-EightFrom the Private Journal of Tyler MacyI am terrified.I am ecstatic.These old feelings lie just beneath the surface, and I push them down until I’m sure they’ve been buried.But in this case, the doubts and fears are crawling up my spine and lodging in my throat.I am not afraid of failure.I’m afraid I won’t fail just because she’s here.—MChapter Twenty-NineArizona is on the list of places I’ve never been before, and even though we won’t be staying long, I’ll put an X right over this city.Shawn pats me on the shoulder when he rushes to get out the door.“Enjoy your day in Tempe.”Not likely if there’s a sex bomb inside the building, but I’ll try.I chide myself for thinking this way.Shae hasn’t done anything to warrant my dislike.She’s really beautiful, and that makes me feel insecure, but that’s on me, not her.I’ll need to get over it.Soon.I wander for a bit, walking around and getting a feel for the area.I make notes on the venue and take a couple of pictures with my phone to put a filter on later and add to the blog.My job has only taken up two hours of time.I walk the perimeter of the venue, and when I’ve finally admitted to myself that I’m bored, I go inside.It’s a pretty big space, and the roster of bands that have played there impresses me.It’s the usual run-around.Instruments set up.Tuning.Sound.Lights.A roadie named Bryson is behind the drums, flawlessly recreating Shawn’s solo on “Break Me.” I stand in the back and stare off for a minute before I remember to start taking more pictures.I forget which way I’m supposed to go, and I end up walking through a door that leads somewhere I’m probably not supposed to be.Turning in circles, I try to figure out just where the hell I am when a deep voice calls to me from the dark end of the hallway.“Are you lost?”“I was trying to get backstage, but I think I went through the wrong door.”A tall figure emerges from the darkness, and again I’m struck dumb.He has an easy smile and ruffles the black hair at his crown with thin fingers.He stops just shy of me, lean and skinny with deep-set eyes.Never dropping eye contact, he reaches right and pulls a door open that leads exactly where I need to go.“Of course the door is there.Of course it is.Thanks.”“Fabian.”“You must be the other opener.I like your accent.Where are you from?”“Oh my God.I have an accent?” Clearly he’s joking, and I feel myself relax a bit.“I’m from South Africa.Where are you from?” He gestures for me to lead the way up the stairs, and I do.“Currently? Seattle.But I like to be all over the place.” When we reach the room I’ve been looking for, I give him a short wave and say thank you.“It has to be hard to find your way around when you’re following your boyfriend to new places, right?” He looks genuine when he says it, but the words land like lead in my chest.“I’m from the magazine.I’m blogging the tour.”His eyebrows raise in light shock.“Magazine, hey? Very cool.You don’t look like a writer.”When he walks away, I wonder what a writer looks like.They’re in a circle, having a band meeting, when I walk in.I gather it’s about the performance.Hollis is back in manager mode, but the guys aren’t having it.“Have you ever noticed that not enough songwriters use the word cock in their songs?”“I don’t know anyone who uses that word.”“That should be our goal for next year.more song cock,” Shawn says.“You could talk about your cock.His cock.My cock.Actual roosters.” Jon is being totally serious.“In the middle of the concert, we could dim the lights and play ‘What Do You Taste Like?’ That would incorporate nicely.” Cam looks pleased at his contribution.“We could wear French scarves that say ‘Coq’ on them.” Tyler is trying to keep his voice from cracking because he’s about to explode with laughter.“That’s enough.Have you thought about what you want to do for a finale? For real.None of this cock talk.You can play a cover song for all I care.”Cam motions to me with his elbow.“Let’s ask the writer.What do you want to hear?”I’m hornier than a seventeen-year-old on Prom Night, and all the cock references aren’t helping my situation.My focus is on Tyler, who is twirling a red sucker across his tongue, regarding me with a sly smile.“You should do that bad-ass remix of ‘Lollipop.’ ”The way he grins when I say it reminds me why I’m wishing that the end of the tour was tomorrow.When he points the candy in my direction, I know I’m a dead woman.“Deal.”“You can’t learn that in two and a half hours.”Shawn snickers and shakes his head.“Thanks a lot, Emily.Now we’ll have to.”“I think you should come on stage for it, personally.You could bang a tambourine.” Cam leans back and leers at me.“Not the cowbell? I’m offended.”Tyler reaches over and picks up his acoustic.“Come on, let’s practice.Clap like this
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