MARTA LET ME TOSS my things in my hotel room in Denver, then dragged me with her to go “shopping.” When she’d learned the last time I’d smoked weed had been my freshman year of college, she’d insisted on treating me to some legal edibles.
Dominic watched us from his doorway while his security checked over his room. His arms were folded across his chest, shoulder leaning on the doorjamb, expression unreadable.
“Plans?” he asked.
“Yep.” Marta slipped her arm around my waist. “Claire and I are going to explore Denver. Should we pick you up something?”
He tipped his bearded chin. “Surprise me.”
Dominic and I hadn’t spent any time alone together since our limo ride. He was holding back, and maybe I was too, but that didn’t mean the tension between us had lessened. If anything, it kept building. When we got home from his concert last night in Phoenix, he’d texted me ten minutes after we went into our separate rooms.
Five.
That one word flipped a switch inside me, transforming me into a wanton, frenzied creature who could only think of one thing. When I texted him back with my number—six—he’d replied, “Good girl”, which got me going yet again.
But he hadn’t touched me, and I hadn’t touched him. We were treading a dangerous line, and we both knew it, but I wouldn’t stop unless he explicitly told me to.
When we did this, when we played with each other, it made me feel like who I should be: Claire, the young, slightly wild, twenty-six-year-old. Not who I was: Claire, the old for her age, slightly repressed, soon-to-be divorcee.
We crammed into a van provided by the hotel with Iris, Adam, and Rodrigo. I’d come to realize Callum didn’t really hang out too often, and when he did, he was quiet and spaced out. Iris said that’s just how he’d always been, but he was one hell of a bass player, so they let him be.
Rodrigo squeezed my hand and bounced beside me. “What are we buying, baby Claire?”
“I’m older than you, silly.” I pretended to be offended, but I loved this man more than I should have loved anyone I’d only known a couple weeks. I wasn’t sure Rodrigo could ever truly offend me.
“That might be true. But you’re baby.”
Iris turned around from the row in front of us. “It means adorable and loveable. It’s pretty much a high compliment.”
“Ah.” I pinched Rodrigo’s dimpled cheek. “You’re baby too, then.”
He beamed and snuggled up against me. “Now that we’re officially best friends, what are we buying you?”
I threw my hands up. “I don’t know my options. I smoked weed twice my freshman year of college and that’s it. I need guidance.”
Adam leaned over the back of our seat. “Rodrigo can definitely be your guide in all things marijuana.”
“’Tis true.” Rodrigo sat up straight and saluted an imaginary flag. “Lieutenant Colonel Cannabis, reporting for duty.”
The dispensary they took me to wasn’t anything like I’d pictured. It wasn’t seedy or smoke-filled. Instead, it was brightly lit and immaculately clean and reminded me of an old-fashioned pharmacy. I let Rodrigo and Adam pick out my treats, trusting them to do right by me. They picked up a tube of gummies and a roll of taffy. I snagged a package of what looked like Swedish Fish for Dominic after Rodrigo approved of my choice.
Iris and Marta took their pot buying seriously, having a long discussion with one of the workers about different strains. I listened, because it was interesting, but their knowledge was far too advanced for me. I was looking to get high and giggle—that was it.
After we left the dispensary, we had lunch on the patio of a tiny Mexican restaurant and planned our night.
“Anyone up for going out? Upside of high-altitude drinking is getting drunk hella fast,” Iris said.
I groaned. “I seriously don’t want to be hungover again for a good six months.”
Marta tapped her chin, then perked up. “I happen to know Dominic’s suite has access to a private rooftop terrace complete with a firepit. Maybe I can bribe him with weed taffy to let us hang out there.”
“Sweet.” Rodrigo held a tortilla chip loaded with salsa aloft. “Think we can lay our hands on some marshmallows? I want to make Claire some s’mores.”
Iris cocked her head back. “I have known you for six years and you’ve never made me a fucking s’more. Claire is amazing and everything, but where’s the love, Roddy?”
He gave me a look while he chewed on his chip. I cleared my throat and leaned in closer to Iris. “The thing is, I’ve never called him Roddy. That might be a starting point.”
Iris cackled and gave my shoulder a playful swat. “Thank you, honey bunny. I love you to pieces.”
It was strange and delightful how quickly I’d been welcomed into this group of rockers. They weren’t anything like the friends Derrick and I had shared, but I liked them better. They were raw and messy sometimes, but they were true to themselves. Or, in Iris’s case, as true as her record label allowed her to be. And even though on the outside I didn’t quite fit in with their achingly hip, punk rock aesthetic, it turned out that didn’t really matter.
I’d never felt so warm and cozy with people. I hadn’t known that was an option, outside of family members. But when Rodrigo cuddled with me or Iris called me honey bunny, I felt genuine affection from them. I would hate when this tour ended, but I’d always be glad to have known them. And hey, maybe it was possible we could be forever-friends, even when their star began to soar—and it would.
Once we finished eating, Adam handed me a piece of taffy. “Start small and see how you feel.”
I took the sticky candy, flipping it over in my hand. “I can’t believe this is going to get me high.”
He waggled his eyebrows. “Just wait.”
The high was gradual, but suddenly, everything was just a little bit funnier and my troubles were background noise. Marta and I sat in the rear of the hotel van on our way back, slumped down with our knees on the back of Rodrigo and Adam’s bench, whispering secrets to each other like no one else could hear. It was quite possible they either couldn’t or didn’t care, since everyone else had partaken too.
“What do you think Callum’s deal is?” I asked.
Marta sputtered. “He’s extremely serious.”
I rolled my eyes and stuck out my tongue like a dead man. “The worst. Let’s promise to always be unserious. Oh shit, is that a word?” I snickered.
Marta drew her phone from her pocket, holding the screen close to her face. “Score! Dom says we can use his terrace.”
I poked at her phone. “He’s serious too.”
“Yeah, but he likes to be around people who aren’t.”
“What?”
She grinned at me and cupped my cheek. “Nothing. I think Iris might not be into me.”
“Impossible. You’re so pretty.”
She blinked twice, like she was trying to clear something from her eyes. “Are you hitting on me, Claire?”
I laughed so hard, I fell over into her lap. She stroked my hair and laughed along with me.
Rodrigo turned in his seat and aimed his phone at us, taking our picture. “You’re gonna want to remember this, preciosa.”
I looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, that, for once, weren’t caused by sadness, and smiled wide. “I promise you I will.”
Our group met back up in the evening. I’d spent time resting in my room, and when the high wore off, I talked to Isabela for a while about the upcoming tour stops. She seemed confounded by how well-behaved Dominic was being, but I was happy about it. I wasn’t sure I was quite up for handling a big scandal.
We had to go through Dominic’s room to get to the terrace, so we knocked on his door.
He opened quickly, ushering us inside. The others passed by, thanking him for letting us use his space, but I lingered behind, waving his gummies at him.
“A thank you.”
He took them from me, examining the package, then looked up, eyebrows raised. “Did you have fun?”
“I really did.” I tipped my head in the direction of the steps everyone had climbed. “You should come up and join us.”
He shrugged. “I’m good here.”
“Haven’t you been alone in your room all day?” I pressed.
“I have. I don’t mind being alone. Most of the time, I prefer it.” He brought his hands to his hips, the plastic of the gummies crinkling. “You should go, find your friends.”
“I know I should.” I tugged on the ends of the strings on my hoodie. “I will. I just wanted to ask you to come too.”
He sighed, sweeping a hand over his short hair. “You asked. You did your duty. Don’t feel guilty that I’m sitting down here lonely.”
I couldn’t seem to be in Dominic’s presence without my stomach doing this crazy falling thing. It was impossible to stand two feet away from him and not long to close the distance—to not hope he’d say “fuck it” to his tightly held control and…
I had to stop. My friends were waiting, and from the heat spreading down my cheeks and chest, I was surely blushing.
“Okay. Well…goodnight, then.”
I hurried up the stairs to the roof where Adam and Rodrigo were getting a fire going. Lattice walls divided the space, giving it privacy and a cozy feel. There were padded lounge chairs off to the side, and brightly colored Adirondack chairs circled the wide, stone pit. The night was just crisp enough for me to want to lean into the warmth of the fire.
The hotel had provided us with s’mores kits, so we were eating marshmallows and chocolate for dinner tonight. I curled up in an Adirondack chair and tipped my head back to look at the stars.
Marta pushed a gummy into my hand. “You need this, kidlet.”
“Thank you, my love.” I popped it into my mouth with a grin, chewing slowly. “Did I ever tell you you remind me of my sister?”
She took the chair next to me. “You didn’t. Give me more information. Is this sister amazing? Tell me more, tell me more.”
“She is. Her name is Annaliese and she’s a femme lesbian gardener.”
Marta looked down at her button-up shirt, cuffed jeans, and platform boots. “Uh…”
I giggled. “Not on the outside. I meant your personality and how caring you are. Annaliese is hilarious, but she also has this innate sense when she’s needed and she’s just there, you know? And you just looked at me, said, ‘that girl needs a pot gummy,’ and you were exactly right.”
Marta snorted. “Okay, well, Annaliese sounds cool as hell, so I’m gonna need to meet her when we go home.” She reached across and squeezed my hand. “I’ve got you, Claire-bear.”
I involuntarily jerked back. “Oh, please don’t call me that. That was what my ex-husband called me and—”
Rodrigo bounced in front of me. “You were married? Way to keep secrets from me.”
“Yeah.” Marta smacked the hand she’d just been holding. “What the hell?”
Adam scooted his chair closer. “Claire was married?”
Iris raised her hand. “First I’m hearing about this.”
“Actually, I’m going through a really fucking awful divorce right now.” I cringed, awaiting their reactions.
Marta immediately climbed out of her chair, plopped her tiny butt on my lap, and bear-hugged me. Then Rodrigo found a space to snuggle in on my side. They both murmured sweet nothings, and since I was a little high from the gummy, I hadn’t felt that good…maybe ever.
When they let go, Iris fist-bumped me, and Adam gave me his own hug.
“Okay, okay.” I cut my hands through the air. “I’m fine. My ex is awful, and I can’t wait to be rid of him, but I’m not broken, promise.”
Iris shook her head. “No one thought you were.”
Rodrigo sat on my other side, and the firelight glowed on the puppy dog eyes he gave me. “Tell me how to make it better. Let’s plan some kind of Claire-is-emancipated-from-the-dragon shindig.”
Calling Derrick a dragon tugged at my belly and sent a ripple of giggles through me. Once I got started, I couldn’t stop. I laughed so hard, I rolled to my side in my chair, clutching my middle.
When I finally got myself together and opened my eyes, a tall, shadowy figure caught my attention, and my breath wedged in my throat.
“Dominic?” I croaked.
He stepped forward into the light, his lips curving into a rare smile. “Does the offer to join you still stand?”
