Read Online Softer Than Steel (A Love & Steel Novel) by Jessica Topper - Free Book Online
Authors: Jessica Topper
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Vancouver, and we all roll out, decked out like rockers. Chicks standing outside yelling for autographs. And there
she
is,” he enthused, rubbing his hand in the air between them, as if conjuring up the girl of his dreams. “And she’s been waiting for me to arrive. She flirts with me all night from the crowd. And when the show ends, she’s boarding the bus to the next town with
me
.”
Sidra admired his optimism. She just wished he didn’t have to hitch himself to Charlie to make things happen. And she hoped, for his sake, life on the road in a tour bus really had all the romance and excitement he longed for.
Rick
Jumping Ship
“Bring out yer dead . . .”
Rick stretched the full length of his bunk as the voice drew closer.
“Bring out yer dead . . .” Martin had a love for Monty Python, a droll sense of humor, and the command to run a very tight ship. “Gentleman, it’s half seven. We are approximately five minutes away from the Guilderland Travel Plaza.” Their tour manager’s Scottish burr trilled again. “If you’re in need of a real loo, ’tis your last one till Boston.
Bring out yer dead
!” His big hands brushed life into the nubby gray bunk curtains as he passed.
Rick rubbed each gritty eye, then the bridge of his nose and yawned. He hated the bunks on the bus, roughly the size of your average coffin. But he didn’t mind waking up miles from where he had fallen asleep.
“Riff Rotten! Shift your arse, man!”
Two fingers hooked around the curtain. Rick peeked through the gap and was greeted nose to the button-fly jeans of Digger Graves. Not his ideal wake-up call.
“We’re almost there.” Adrian’s fingers moved to fasten his trousers’ top button before pulling Rick’s entire curtain asunder, leaving him blinking in the canned light of the Prevost coach. “Look alive, mate.” He popped a toothbrush into his mouth and grinned before making his way down the aisle.
At least you have a reason for being so bright-eyed and minty-fresh at this hour,
Rick thought dully.
If I were this close to home and to my ladylove, I would go AWOL from tour, too
.
Home. Love.
Yeah. There were reasons why Rick kept the show itinerary full.
The last two weeks had passed in a blur. California, Chicago, Cleveland, Pittsburgh, Buffalo, now a two-night stand coming up in Boston . . .
He yanked the curtain half-mast once more, closing his eyes.
Ah, Simone.
Sometimes on the road, I find myself looking at the clock and wondering what time it is back home in Hawaii. Not that it matters. You’re not there to answer the phone. Or open my letters. Still. If you cannot be my confessional . . .
Across the aisle, Sam swung massive feet clad in cheap flip-flops out of the top bunk. “Ah, finally a real flusher, thank Christ!” Anyone who harbored illusions that the rock and roll road life was twenty-four-hour glamour had obviously never encountered a musician wandering the streets of some small town early in the morning, waiting for the local McDonald’s to open so he could empty his bowels. The tour bus toilet accommodated bladder relief only.
“There’re my girls!” Adrian exclaimed as the bus careened up the exit ramp. “I can see the Smurf from here—over there, see? The blue-and-white Mini Cooper.”
The door gave a hiss and burped open.
“Morning, Kat!” Sam boomed, as if it were perfectly natural for them to run into each other here in the middle of the New York State Thruway. No one beat Sam off the bus when he was in need of a bog.
One by one, the awake and the barely awake filtered off and greeted Adrian’s instant American family in a hard rock receiving line. Rick lingered, enjoying the obscurity of the tinted bus windows for a few moments longer. He watched his best friend fall into Kat’s embrace. Her lips spoke silent words over Adrian’s shoulder, ones that only he could hear. Little Abbey wormed her way into the hug, too, as Adrian hiked a thumb backward and Kat
she
is,” he enthused, rubbing his hand in the air between them, as if conjuring up the girl of his dreams. “And she’s been waiting for me to arrive. She flirts with me all night from the crowd. And when the show ends, she’s boarding the bus to the next town with
me
.”
Sidra admired his optimism. She just wished he didn’t have to hitch himself to Charlie to make things happen. And she hoped, for his sake, life on the road in a tour bus really had all the romance and excitement he longed for.
Rick
Jumping Ship
“Bring out yer dead . . .”
Rick stretched the full length of his bunk as the voice drew closer.
“Bring out yer dead . . .” Martin had a love for Monty Python, a droll sense of humor, and the command to run a very tight ship. “Gentleman, it’s half seven. We are approximately five minutes away from the Guilderland Travel Plaza.” Their tour manager’s Scottish burr trilled again. “If you’re in need of a real loo, ’tis your last one till Boston.
Bring out yer dead
!” His big hands brushed life into the nubby gray bunk curtains as he passed.
Rick rubbed each gritty eye, then the bridge of his nose and yawned. He hated the bunks on the bus, roughly the size of your average coffin. But he didn’t mind waking up miles from where he had fallen asleep.
“Riff Rotten! Shift your arse, man!”
Two fingers hooked around the curtain. Rick peeked through the gap and was greeted nose to the button-fly jeans of Digger Graves. Not his ideal wake-up call.
“We’re almost there.” Adrian’s fingers moved to fasten his trousers’ top button before pulling Rick’s entire curtain asunder, leaving him blinking in the canned light of the Prevost coach. “Look alive, mate.” He popped a toothbrush into his mouth and grinned before making his way down the aisle.
At least you have a reason for being so bright-eyed and minty-fresh at this hour,
Rick thought dully.
If I were this close to home and to my ladylove, I would go AWOL from tour, too
.
Home. Love.
Yeah. There were reasons why Rick kept the show itinerary full.
The last two weeks had passed in a blur. California, Chicago, Cleveland, Pittsburgh, Buffalo, now a two-night stand coming up in Boston . . .
He yanked the curtain half-mast once more, closing his eyes.
Ah, Simone.
Sometimes on the road, I find myself looking at the clock and wondering what time it is back home in Hawaii. Not that it matters. You’re not there to answer the phone. Or open my letters. Still. If you cannot be my confessional . . .
Across the aisle, Sam swung massive feet clad in cheap flip-flops out of the top bunk. “Ah, finally a real flusher, thank Christ!” Anyone who harbored illusions that the rock and roll road life was twenty-four-hour glamour had obviously never encountered a musician wandering the streets of some small town early in the morning, waiting for the local McDonald’s to open so he could empty his bowels. The tour bus toilet accommodated bladder relief only.
“There’re my girls!” Adrian exclaimed as the bus careened up the exit ramp. “I can see the Smurf from here—over there, see? The blue-and-white Mini Cooper.”
The door gave a hiss and burped open.
“Morning, Kat!” Sam boomed, as if it were perfectly natural for them to run into each other here in the middle of the New York State Thruway. No one beat Sam off the bus when he was in need of a bog.
One by one, the awake and the barely awake filtered off and greeted Adrian’s instant American family in a hard rock receiving line. Rick lingered, enjoying the obscurity of the tinted bus windows for a few moments longer. He watched his best friend fall into Kat’s embrace. Her lips spoke silent words over Adrian’s shoulder, ones that only he could hear. Little Abbey wormed her way into the hug, too, as Adrian hiked a thumb backward and Kat
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