Wicked Harmony

Chapter 26 | Micah

Chapter 26

Micah

M y dick is so hard it’s painful and I’m finding it difficult to focus on anything else by the time we land. Still, between the two of us, Sin came about five times and by the end she was so overstimulated, we had to stop and cuddle up together for the last half hour.

Best couple of hours of my life.

We land in Hawthorne, the city where we’ve kicked off our tours for the past ten years. We have a packed day of PR stuff at a hotel booked in. And as soon as we step off the plane, it’s like we’ve left the fantasyland of the cabin and we’re dumped unceremoniously into the real world.

It starts with monster tailbacks for miles leading into Hawthorne, and the sound of beeping horns fills the air. Then, as soon as we reach the hotel, we’re hit by the sight of the crowd gathered around the entrance. They’re screaming and losing their minds, even though we haven’t officially arrived yet.

I don’t know how they do it, but they always seem to know exactly where we’ll be and when.

By the time we’ve made our way around to the back of the hotel, Jules is waiting for us and she’s looking frazzled.

That’s why we pay her the big bucks. She’s the consummate professional when she needs to be and has a knack for reading our needs before we’re aware of them .

We’re immediately swarmed by people as soon as we step inside. Our publicist and social media manager both appear in front of us, talking a mile a minute, along with the stylist and team of makeup artists hired for the tour. There’s also our tour manager and event coordinator who are yapping away on their phones and only spare us a momentary glance.

It’s going to be a long day of sitting in a stale hotel conference suite and answering the same questions over and over. We get a lot of attention normally, but after announcing this as our last tour for a while, and then disappearing off to the cabin for a month, the press are ravenous for information.

Sin gets sidelined immediately and taken over to one cluttered corner of the room, while everyone’s attention is focused on us. I side-eye the way she’s ignored by everyone, but she has her duffle bag with her and seems more than happy to continue working on any last-minute alterations to her creations.

We’re prodded and poked by the makeup team and redressed into outfits that’ll sell better on camera. The four of us sit through it without complaint, but it always makes me feel like a piece of meat as they tug on my hair and dress me in shit I’d never normally pick out.

It’s then time for the mind-numbing section of the day to begin. Julia is smooth and professional as ever, instantly picking journalists that normally give us straightforward questions to throw us some softballs to begin with.

Too bad no one told them that.

“There are rumors of tension within the band—how do you guys handle conflicts?”

“It's been speculated that some of your lyrics like the ones to Bad Omen and Lying Tongue reference personal struggles or relationships within the band. Can you tell us if there’s any truth behind that? ”

That’s the first one. A bearded guy that looks a bit like Santa Claus, and he usually spends his interviews gushing over our latest material.

“Your fanbase has changed a lot over the years—how do you feel about the fact that some of your older fans think you've lost your edge?”

That’s the next one. A female journalist who once asked Cal to marry her during an interview a couple of years back.

Seems her favor’s gone out of the window for this year’s press tour.

There’s always a list of pre-approved questions, but it seems like today every single journalist has gone rogue. Iri glowers as each of them voices their questions, and I can see Dorian getting more and more wound up. It’s normally him and Iri that do most of the talking, but today he’s clearly not in the mood.

"Some people say your success is more about image than talent. How do you respond to accusations that your music relies on you being monsters instead of talent?”

I suck in a breath as Dorian pushes to his feet. I’m not sure if he’s about to hit the guy or storm out.

This is exactly why we’re all done with touring. The music is still something we all love. But the lifestyle and the bullshit that comes along with it? Not so much.

It feels strange to not be exposed to every person’s emotions as they tear into us. I glance over at Sin and am surprised to see her shoulders shaking. Panic shoots through my veins and I yank off the cuff, only to be battered by a wild mix of desperation, irritation and... amusement?

She glances up from whatever she’s tinkering with and I see that she’s laughing, or trying really hard not to.

Relief chases the panic out and I let out a breath, smirking in return .

She’s right, this entire thing is ridiculous. Especially since I’m pretty sure my face and Cal’s fingers still taste like her sweet pussy. I lean over and snap the cuff onto Dorian’s wrist and shrug when he shoots me a confused look.

Normally, this entire situation would be overwhelming for me. But today, with Sin here—knowing that instead of going back to a lonely hotel room later, I’m going to be taking her out for dinner like she deserves—none of it seems so dire.

When Dorian settles back in his seat, slumping down with a much calmer expression on his face, the atmosphere in the room shifts. Jules shoots us a look and stands, escorting the latest prick of a journalist out. As soon as they’re out of the room, it’s like someone’s deflated all the tension.

“Fuck. Do you think this is how everyone’s going to react since it’s our last tour? We’re gonna wind up with an audience of people pissed that we’re done?”

“I hope not,” Dorian replies. He turns to me as Iri hands over bottles of water to each of us. “Thanks for the cuff, man. I could have strangled that prick. Appreciate you pulling me back like that.”

“You’re welcome.”

“And thanks for lending it to me on the plane. It was fucking nuts how different it felt when I didn’t expect us to fall out of the sky at any moment.”

I share a quick grin with Cal, who is trying to hide a smirk behind his fist. “It was no hardship.”

“You should sell these things,” Dorian calls over to Sin, waving his wrist in the air.

She cocks her head to one side. “You think?”

“For sure. Maybe the press should be given one and then they’d chill the fuck out with their questions.”

Then the door opens and Julia ushers the next person inside and we start the whole process again .

Luckily, the next set of journalists have either had a stern talking to by Julia, or they’re in a less combative mood. Their questions return to mundane stuff we could answer in our sleep and Iri takes charge of answering most of them with Dorian and me chipping in whenever we need to.

Cal’s focus is entirely on Sin. He doesn’t even try to act like he’s paying attention to the interviewers, instead boring holes in the side of her head as she focuses on her own work.

I can’t blame him. My eyes skirt to the clock on the wall more than is professional as I count down the hours and minutes.

Just another couple of hours, and then she’s all ours.

BY THE TIME OUR INTERVIEWS are all wrapped up, Cal and I are desperate to head out. He has his arms firmly crossed, and he’s giving death glares to every new journalist that appears, while I can’t seem to stop my leg jiggling.

When Iri pulls Sin to one side and starts talking to her in a low, intense tone, I want to grab her and get the hell out of here, and Cal looks three seconds away from tossing her over his shoulder.

For a moment, I wonder if Iri’s going to invite himself to our dinner. I don’t think either of us would mind. His obsession with Sin started before he ever laid eyes on her, and it only seems to have grown stronger the more time they spend together.

Not that he’s made it obvious to her.

I’m not sure he realizes that just yet, either.

He’s filled our house with everything she’s ever even casually mentioned liking. She made a comment the other day about quite liking crackers and peanut butter as a late-night snack, and later that night, there was an entire cupboard bursting with...

Yep, you guessed it, like ten boxes of crackers and five types of peanut butter .

Something’s holding him back from actually spending time with her, though. I’m not sure if he’s afraid his natural intensity and possessiveness will scare the shit out of her. But from the way Sin’s body leans into his hand as he casually rests his hand on her hip, I don’t think he needs to have any concerns on that front.

She fits with us. With all of us.

My eyes flick to Dorian as he hands the cuff back to me, his attention also focused on the intimate scene between Iri and Sin. He meets my eyes and smirks.

Yeah, he’s noticed Iri’s obsession too.

Dorian, the guy who used to be the one to always have a different woman on his arm. Who couldn’t seem to go to a bar without coming back from the bathroom freshly fucked. Who over the past four weeks has been celibate and who shoots soft, smiling glances Sin’s way whenever she’s not paying attention.

“We’re taking Sin for dinner,” I tell him. “Figured she deserved to be properly ‘courted’, as Cal calls it.”

He grins and squeezes my shoulder. “Enjoy, man.”

“You could come with us?”

Dorian chuckles, shaking his head like he can read my anxious mind. “Nah. Thanks for the invite, but I have an idea of where I’m gonna take Sin on my own date.”

Before I can argue with him, he steps back as Sin makes her way toward us.

“Head out the back of the hotel. Iri and I will make sure the front’s covered so you can slip by unnoticed,” Dorian says.

I’m conflicted between telling him he’s welcome and that he doesn’t need to martyr himself to the fans so we can have a peaceful night. But then I’m distracted by Sin smiling at me. Without my cuff, I can feel the little buzz of excitement that goes through her as we make eye contact. They combine with warmth and the slight nerves that mirror my own feelings .

Excitement. Nerves. Giddiness.

“Ready to go?”

I tangle our fingers together and pull her into my chest, pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

“I can’t wait.”