All Fired Up (13 page)

‘But you’ll come back?’

‘Soon,’ she promised. ‘I’ll come to Roskilde. It won’t seem strange if I just happen to be at a rock festival along with thousands of other people.’

‘It’s ages until then.’

‘Not that long.’ She kissed him. ‘It’ll give you time to at least explain to your mates what’s going on.’

Ash held her tight in his arms, clinging to her, not ready to let go. ‘What about your present?’ The diamond was waiting in his dressing room. He’d been looking forward to putting it in.

‘It’ll wait.’

‘Right.’ A thick lump formed in his throat making it almost impossible to swallow. ‘You’ll call me often? And I’ll call you too.’

She sealed the promise with a kiss.

It opened a damn crater inside his chest, allowing her to walk away.

Back inside the venue, Iain was the first to sidle up to him. ‘What’s going on, man? Who is that bitch?’

‘Watch your fucking language,’ Ash snapped.

Iain raised his hands in surrender and backed up. ‘Whoa! Issues! Sounds serious. What is she to you, man? I didn’t think you went in for any serious dating shit.’

‘I’m going to bed,’ Ash replied. He had no intention of explaining to anyone, least of all Iain. He hadn’t forgotten the filthy beast had tried to shove his tongue in her ear. His stomach roiled at the reminder, sending acid up his throat and making him sputter.

‘Better get yourself back to bed. We need you fit and healthy for Amsterdam,’ Rock Giant observed. He tactfully didn’t mention Ash’s alarming exit earlier, and Ash was pleased to note that the girl he’d unceremoniously torn from his person wasn’t still on the sofa waiting to soothe his ruffled rock-star feathers.

‘I’d forgotten you were ill.’ Iain squinted at him sceptically. ‘You seemed all right on stage.’

Ash smiled and squeezed Iain’s shoulder. ‘Must have been due to the adrenalin rush. You know nothing beats a good performance high.’

‘Except a good fuck,’ Xane remarked, strolling past with his arm around Dani’s waist. ‘We’re turning in now. See you guys in an hour or so.’

‘Brilliant,’ Rock Giant sighed. ‘It’s like living on a haunted bus, the amount of groaning that goes on around midnight. I’m going to see if Elspeth’s willing to share.’

‘I’m going to commandeer Tony’s bunk,’ Spook announced. Tony was the most hygienic of their roadies, and liked neat hospital corners on his sheets almost as much as Spook.

They all stalked off, leaving Ash and Iain to walk back together.

‘I don’t know what the problem is myself,’ Iain remarked. ‘Xane roaring away I can live without, but Dani’s kind of cute when she comes.’

‘Pervert,’ Ash replied. ‘You’re not supposed to admit you listen. And before you add anything else, I don’t want to know if it turns you on.’

Iain clapped him on the back. ‘You know me –
making
sweet soul music is what turns me on.’

‘Then it’s too bad you’re in a rock band.’

G
inny scratched her head at the array of listings in multiple languages being flashed across various screens. She was beginning to regret not asking Ash to organise a pick-up for her to take her from Copenhagen to Roskilde, but she hadn’t wanted to make too big a deal of her return. She wanted it to be a surprise, even though they’d agreed to meet there.

‘Know where the taxi rank is?’ she asked the girl with the Cruella de Vil hair who was standing next to her.

‘Outside, but good luck with getting one that doesn’t rip you off. Where you trying to get to? Might be a bus is a better bet.’

‘Roskilde. It’s a rock festival. I think it’s south of here.’

‘North there’s just a lot of ocean, so yes, south. The quickest way will be by train. The festival has its own station to help cut down on the number of cars. Are you meeting friends there?’

‘Boyfriend. Kind of,’ she replied.

‘What, you think you’re meeting him, or he’s only sort of your boyfriend?’ The girl grinned at her. She had a wide, generous mouth and a sweet, heart-shaped face that were somewhat incongruous with her starkly coloured hair. Ginny found herself grinning back.

‘Oh, he’s my boyfriend all right. He’s just a bit shy about admitting it.’ Although she hoped by now he’d got over that a little. He’d promised faithfully that he’d tell his friends, so that it wouldn’t be necessary for them to sneak around all the time.

‘Is that him calling now?’

Ginny glanced down at the phone in her hand to see that the screen had lit, just as the strains of Ash’s favourite song, ‘Lilith Licked’, began to play, alerting her to an incoming text.

‘Hey, Black Halo,’ the girl observed. ‘Love them. They’re supposed to be playing the festival. Guess you like them too, huh?’

‘You could say that. I’m dating one of them.’ The admission – God, it felt good not to be hiding behind a cloak of secrecy; she’d told Ash categorically that she wasn’t going to do that any more – prompted an incredulous ‘oh!’ from the girl.

‘Yeah, course you are. Is that why he’s only sort of your boyfriend, because he’s really just an image printed on a pillowcase?’

‘Does your pillowcase send you texts?’ she asked, raising her brows to seem equally incredulous.

‘
Touché
. What does he have to say?’

Ginny turned her attention to Ash’s message. It was the same one he’d sent every day, at least twice a day, since she’d left him standing on the wet tarmac in the shadow of the overpass outside the Lotto Arena in Antwerp.

When are you coming home?

Not back or here, but home, to him. It was kind of soppily romantic, but then, beneath his black leather and guy-liner and his snarly on-stage persona, Ash was a big softie.

Just as she’d responded to each of his previous messages, she replied:
Soon
.

‘Which one?’ the girl asked, leaning over so that she could glimpse the phone display. It offered her no insight, as the text had officially come from Danger Mouse. ‘Can’t be Xane, he’s hooked up with that girl from the sex tape. They’ve been all over the news. I’m a Spook Mortensen fan myself, so it better not be him, although they say he doesn’t do physical contact, so that might be an issue if we ever met, ’cause I’d be all over him like a rash.’

‘It’s Ash, actually,’ Ginny muttered.

‘The hell you are. Ash “I eat pussy for a living” Ash?’ Her grin stretched so wide it threatened to swallow up her face. ‘Cute, but …’ She snorted. ‘You’re not actually serious.’

‘I’d show you a picture if I had any that weren’t obscene.’

The girl snatched Ginny’s phone out of her hand. ‘You have naked photos of Ash Gore!’

‘Shh!’ Ginny hissed, clamping two fingers to her lips. ‘Are you trying to get us mobbed? And give me that back.’

‘Show me one,’ pleaded the girl, turning on the spot to avoid Ginny’s questing fingers. ‘If you do, I’ll give you a lift to the festival when my ride appears. It’s where we’re headed anyway. We’ve a slot booked on one of the minor stages.’ She preened a little at the assertion, before qualifying it. ‘Not that we’re anywhere near as awesome as Black Halo, of course, but we do get to camp in the Artists’ Area. Not that many of them camp, exactly. It’ll be all tour buses the size of hotels.’

‘Is that what you guys have?’

She sighed with longing. ‘I wish. Some day, maybe. No, we just have a crappy old camper van. But it’s wheels. I’m Lykke, by the way.’ She thrust out her hand for Ginny to shake.

‘Ginny.’

‘So, Ginny, fried breakfast in the morning, if you eat that sort of thing, and a ride in exchange for a glimpse of rock-star tackle.’

Ash would kill her if she showed anyone any of the photographs she had, nearly all of which had been taken by Spook and sent to her by Spook with Ash’s permission as a means of tempting her to return.

‘How about I introduce you to Spook Mortensen instead?’

‘Ooh!’ Lykke let out a tortured squeal. ‘So tempting. Wonder if he’ll give me a rhythm lesson? I’m not sure what August’s going to have to say about it, but yeah, OK then. Deal.’

* * *

‘Do you know if he’s really celibate?’ Lykke asked her, as they rode in the back of the camper van some minutes later. The two other members of Lykke’s band sat upfront.

‘He’s interesting,’ Ginny replied tactfully. She supposed the honest answer might have been yes, but actually she wasn’t sure she knew Spook well enough to pass judgement. Maybe ‘highly selective’ and ‘very discreet’ would be more accurate. She suspected he’d be an absolute animal if you ever got him into bed. She knew Ash thought that the episode that had birthed all those incredible, if obscene, photos was her idea, but truthfully none of it would have happened without Spook. She still wasn’t entirely convinced that he didn’t have a bit of a thing for Ash.

‘A
sh, are you in there?’ Iain hollered, smashing his fist against the bathroom door.

Dear God, was there no peace to be had anywhere on this bleeding bus? Ash bit down so hard his teeth ached. Iain in particular was like his fucking shadow, glued to his side, but essentially useless for anything besides posing. And even that couldn’t be relied upon. After splashing about in the mud trying to free the tour bus from the sludge that was supposed to be a campsite, Iain had sported so many knots in his razor-cut hair it’d resembled dreads.

After a second or two of silence, the pounding began again. ‘Your phone’s making a frickin’ awful noise.’

‘So turn it off.’

‘What?’

‘Give me two minutes.’

‘Right, I’ll answer it.’

‘No. Shit!’ Ash abruptly shut off the stream of water then, dancing on the floor attempting not to slip, he grabbed the nearest towel and shot out into the bedroom at the rear of the tour bus. Iain stood before the dressing table, peeping into the five square inches of mirror that wasn’t papered with Steve Matlock memorabilia. He was attempting to freeze individual strands of his choppy locks into submission.

‘It stopped before I could answer it.’ He lifted the phone from among the clutter of styling products and drumsticks to wave it in Ash’s direction. ‘Whoever it is keeps texting you though. It’s someone called Penfold. They’re pretty insistent. Hook-up of yours?’

‘Right. Yeah. Thanks.’ Ash rubbed his thumb across his lips in an attempt to look casual. ‘Better just check it.’ He turned, intending to step back into the bathroom. He’d learned from experience that it was the best place if you wanted to guarantee privacy.

‘Is she hot?’ Iain asked.

‘Um …’ Dammit, did they have to do this? ‘She’s a bit young for you, Iain. It’s my cousin.’

‘Your cousin’s that desperate to get hold of you?’

‘It’s her birthday,’ he lied. ‘I promised I’d send her some stuff that she could impress her mates with. I guess it hasn’t arrived, or maybe it has arrived and she needs to hyperventilate in my ear.’

‘Sounds fun.’ Interest deflated, Iain turned back to the dresser and inadvertently spritzed himself with Elspeth’s perfume. ‘Aw, shit flaps! Now I smell like a mortuary.’

Ash lifted his head and gave the air a good sniff. ‘Nah, just like something from a fabric-softener commercial. It’s cool. Ladies totally go for that fresh-laundry smell.’ Seeing a canister hurtling towards him, Ash ducked into the tiny bathroom. The missile hit the outside of the door.

Perched on the lid of the toilet seat, he reviewed the missed messages.

ETA in twenty minutes.

Hope you’re wearing your best undies.

Scratch last. Don’t wear undies.

Met some cool guys, riding with them.

Guys? What guys?

Keep your hair on. Only one of them is actually male. They’re friends of one of your roadies. Luthor?

Yeah, well, that wasn’t a selling point: he’d had to physically pull Luthor off Xane only a few minutes ago. Ash still wondered if he ought to have fired the guy on the spot, since he was likely to cause fireworks in Xane’s relationship if he stuck around. Then again, it wasn’t any of his business. If Xane reckoned he had a handle on things, then he’d just have to take him at his word, and hope that when the inevitable explosion happened it didn’t spell the end of Black Halo.

Looking forward to hanging with you and your buds tonight. Might have promised someone an introduction to Spook. You’ll square it with him, won’t you?

Ash scratched at the stubble on his chin. Sure, he’d square it with Spook. That bit would only result in minor conniptions. It was the hanging-together bit at the start of the message he might have a small problem with. Yes, he knew he’d agreed to tell the band that he and Ginny were serious, but somehow it just hadn’t happened yet, except with Xane. Telling Xane had actually been remarkably easy: it had just sort of slipped out in the aftermath of dragging him off Luthor, or Luthor off Xane – it was hard to say who’d been holding on tighter. He guessed he was going to have to announce it to the rest of the group now, in the few minutes that remained before Ginny arrived.

Very few minutes, since he could already hear Sally Kettering talking to Spook outside the bus, asking if he and Xane had emerged from their showers yet because
Bang! Magazine
weren’t going to hang around all day waiting for an interview; they had other bands to see. Yeah, right! He’d met their interviewer, Ava Leigh, before. She’d tried to get him and Rock Giant to snort coke and then tag-team her. Numbing agents, uh-uh, so not his thing.

Either way, he didn’t think
Bang! Magazine
were going anywhere.

Ash left the bathroom again in pursuit of some clean leathers and a shirt it’d be easy to strip off on stage. Stage lights on top of monsoon heat were murder. The rain might have stopped, but in the humidity he felt sweaty already and he’d barely dried from his shower. He passed Elspeth, relaxing with a cuppa in the kitchen. Paused. Mentally rehearsed his admittance speech and thought better of it. It’d be like rubbing salt in a gaping wound.
So sorry you’re feeling like shit, Elspeth. It’s a real bummer about Steve. We all really miss him, but I just thought I’d like you to know that I’m deliriously happy. I’ve met a girl and she’s completely ace. And by the way, she’ll be around later. Sorry if the sounds of shagging disturb you.