The Reckless Collision

Chapter Twenty-Eight

"Of course," I said, fishing my panties out of his pocket, a wicked grin tugging at my lips. "Not like Logan cares."

"I care," Ray said, his tone possessive as he stepped closer and pulled me into his arms. His hand slid along my waist, his lips brushing against mine. "That's mine. Just mine."

"Possessive much?" I teased, arching an eyebrow.

"Protective," he corrected, his brown eyes smoldering with intensity.

We slipped out of the closet separately, and I headed back to the merch shop while Ray prepared for the show. Later, I watched the concert from the balcony. The hall was packed, the energy from the crowd buzzing through the air, but exhaustion crept in, weighing on my limbs. After the show, I returned to help sell merchandise.

Brussels would remain mostly unexplored, a bittersweet thought as we packed up. We did manage a quick walk through the city, taking in the grandeur of Brussels Town Hall, the City Museum, and Saint Nicholas Church. I treated myself to Moules-Frites—a fresh, buttery indulgence—and, of course, a stash of chocolates I'd probably regret eating all at once later.

Back on the bus, my hair wrapped in a towel after another shower, I slouched on the couch. The guys were sprawled around the bus, their laughter filling the space as whiskey flowed. Avenged Sevenfold played in the background. Ray sat beside me, leaning his head on my shoulder, his warmth a comforting presence.

Andrew took a sip of his drink and smirked at us. "Oh, look at them. So cute and innocent."

Five sets of eyes turned our way.

"Innocent?" Logan raised an eyebrow, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Yeah, real innocent. Considering I caught Ray without his pants earlier today." His laugh boomed through the bus, ignoring Ray's warning glare.

"Really?" James asked, his tone half-amused, half-curious.

"I mean, they were in a storage closet," Logan continued, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Why is this so funny?" I asked, brushing my hair out, pretending not to care.

Logan shot me a look. "Because it was a storage closet."

I tilted my head, giving him a sweet but deadly smile. "We could've done it right here, you know. There's a perfectly good bed in the bunks," I said, motioning toward them. "But we didn't, for your sake." Ray's lips twitched as he tried not to laugh. "Unless, of course, you'd prefer to hear me moan while your friend is fucking me."

Silence. Utter, stunned silence. The guys exchanged glances, clearly unsure how to respond.

Andrew was the first to break. "You know," he said, taking a long sip of whiskey. "I'm starting to understand why Ray's been into you since day one." Ray cleared his throat, but the faintest smile played on his lips.

I tuned out the guys' chatter about Germany, letting their voices fade into background noise as my thoughts wandered back to what had happened after the show. My fingers scrolled through my phone, lingering on the photos I'd posted from Paris. The notifications from my sister, Alyssa, quickly drew my attention, her messages laced with suspicion.

Alyssa: Why are you lying about not being with Tom?

I frowned, staring at the words as my chest tightened and confusion filled my mind. It always went back to Tom. I talked with my mom the other day she complained that Tom was not talking with his parents, he was avoiding them. The coward can't tell his parents the whole wedding thing not gonna happen.

I avoided telling Raymond about my family drama, and my parents' expectations, and I for sure couldn't tell him that I felt concerned enough to call Tom. He was of course fine, just dodging his parents. So maybe that was why my sister assumed I was with Tom since he was still "missing". I rolled my eyes and a small groan left my lips as I replied.

Me: I'm not lying. Tom is not with me. I'm traveling alone.

Alyssa: Then who took your pictures? Those aren't selfies.

I sighed, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. If a sixteen-year-old could see through my half-truths, then it wouldn't take long for everyone else to figure it out—especially Scott. A wave of humiliation washed over me as I realized I'd become tangled in my own web of lies.

What could I tell Alyssa that wouldn't make this mess even worse? After a moment of deliberation, I decided to go with a version of the truth. Switching to my other phone—the one meant to keep things off the radar—I started typing, the words coming slower than usual.

Me: Hi, this is Sam. You're right; those aren't selfies. This is my other phone. I can't explain why I have it, at least not yet. I'm not traveling alone, so you're also right about that. But I'm not with Tom. I... have a sort of new boyfriend. Please don't tell Mom and Dad. I'll explain everything when I get back. I'm sorry, Alyssa. You know I hate lying, but there's some stuff happening right now that I can't explain over the phone. Be patient with me, okay? I'll tell you everything soon.

I let out a slow breath as I hit send, feeling a fraction of relief wash over me. At least she'd have something. As I put my phone down, I caught Raymond glancing at the screen out of the corner of my eye.

"Sort of have a boyfriend?" he murmured, leaning in close so only I could hear.

"You should be patient with me too," I replied, locking my phone and turning to meet his dark, curious gaze.

"I am," he said, his voice low and warm as he pressed a kiss to my cheek.

"I'm going to bed," I announced, more to the room than to Ray specifically.

The guys mumbled their goodnights without much attention, their conversation quickly picking up where it left off. I climbed into my bunk, the hum of the bus and their voices creating a kind of white noise.