The Reckless Collision

Sam.

~~~

The warmth pressed against my back and the soft-tossing behind me stirred me from sleep. My skin felt sticky from the night's heat, so I kicked one leg free from the covers. A low groan rumbled close to my ear as the arms around my waist tightened, holding me in place. I stayed still, staring at the bus wall just inches from my face.

"Good morning," Ray's husky voice murmured, his hand already trailing beneath my shirt, grazing my ribs.

I stretched an arm backward, brushing my fingertips along his thigh. "Good morning," I said, my voice still groggy from sleep.

"Did you sleep okay?" he asked, shifting onto his elbow to look at me.

The muted sound of voices carried from the front of the bus, accompanied by the distinct, rich aroma of brewing coffee. I sighed contentedly, though my moment of peace was abruptly interrupted. The curtain shielding our bunk was yanked open, flooding the small space with light.

"Rise and shine, sleepyheads!" James's chipper tone cut through the stillness. He leaned into the bunk with a grin plastered on his face. "We're officially in Brussels!"

"Thanks for the heads-up," I mumbled, shielding my eyes from the harsh light. He smirked and disappeared as quickly as he'd arrived.

I turned my head toward Ray, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "Shower," I whispered, my voice filled with a mix of excitement and relief.

He chuckled softly, his warm laughter vibrating against me. "Anything for you," he said, climbing out of the bunk.

It wasn't just a shower—it was a rare luxury. Living on a bus meant every stop had to count. The tiny shower at the back was more of a decoration than an actual option, and my last shower had been almost twenty-four hours ago in the hotel. The thought of hot water washing away the remnants of travel was enough to make me giddy.

After a quick breakfast and coffee, we arrived at the Ancienne Belgique concert hall. The towering building stood proud and grand, far more expensive than the last few venues. Its exterior combined softened grays and whites with elegant, modern architecture. Inside, the white walls were offset by polished brown floors and subtle black detailing that gave the space a clean, refined energy.

Purple Rain was set to play the largest hall, with room for two thousand people. As we unloaded the bus—lugging equipment, clothes, and everything else we'd need for the evening—the magnitude of the venue began to sink in.

Once inside, the band headed to rehearsal, leaving me, Gabe, and Adam to set up the merch table near the entrance.

I had time to kill before the show started, so I decided on another coffee. The stairs to the second floor spiraled upward in front of me, promising the caffeine I craved. I started to climb when firm hands grabbed my waist from behind.

"Whoa!" I yelped, stumbling backward and colliding into a familiar chest.

"Come with me," Ray's voice, low and commanding, sent shivers down my spine.

Before I could protest, he slid past me, gripping my hand and tugging me up the stairs. "Where are we going?" I asked, my heart thundering as I hurried to keep up.

"Not sure yet," he said over his shoulder, his lips quirking in that mischievous smirk I knew all too well.

We passed one door, then another, each one locked. "Ray, we have a dressing room," I reminded him.

"Guys are taking a break. We need privacy," he said, turning his head just enough for me to catch the spark in his brown eyes.

Finally, he jiggled the handle of a door, and it creaked open. The room was dark and smelled faintly of cleaning supplies. My eyes adjusted, revealing shelves stacked with toilet paper, tissues, and other supplies.