Ruin Porn (27 page)

Next to him, Ritchie cracked his neck and hitched his bag farther up his shoulder. “Pretty sure Ronald McDonald rules the world.”

Finn got them going in the direction of Arrivals where Evin would meet up with them and ride with them back to the hotel before the show. He and Evin hadn’t seen each other in the weeks since Nashville, and Finn couldn’t help but hope this airport meeting was going to be better than the last one.

“He’s a redhead and Irish,” he replied to Ritchie, getting back to the subject of Ronald McDonald, undercover world dictator. “Of course he does.”

“Is he Irish or Scottish?” Ritchie mused. “Or neither? I’ve never been clear on that….”

Ritchie kept rambling, but Finn wasn’t listening anymore. Through the glassed-off part of the airport that divided the terminal from the outside, there was a swarm of Rezors and paparazzi. But it wasn’t their presence that brought Finn to an abrupt halt.

“…I mean, what’s with the redhead thing and fast food joints anyway? McDonald’s and Wendy’s rock redheads—” Ritchie stopped, finally catching on that Finn wasn’t walking with him. He gestured over his shoulder at the teeming baggage area. “It’s just cameras, man. Evin’s coming with the usual security crew. You don’t have to say anything to the press, just remember to be cool with the fans. We’re tired but—”

Finn took a deep breath and looked over Ritchie’s shoulder to verify he was seeing Sid there with a security detail surrounding him and Evin wasn’t somewhere lingering close. “We got each other’s back, right, Ritchie?”

Ritchie tracked back to him. “You’re freaking me out, dude. Is there something you haven’t told me? Something with this whole bearding business I should have been prepared for?”

Finn shook his head. If only it was that simple. “I think Sid wants to talk. About
us
, man,” he clarified. “He’s here to pick us up, not Evin. And with him walking into the hotel room in Nashville with us all half-naked and the room stinking of spunk and sweat…. I thought since it had been a month….
Shit.
Maybe it’s just a precaution because of where we are on the charts. Maybe I’m just being paranoid.” Finn caught Ritchie’s wide eyes and inhaled around the knot in his chest. “Please tell me I’m being paranoid.”

Ritchie frowned and hitched his carry-on bag farther up his shoulder. “I think you’re right. After the last airport debacle, there’s no way Evin wouldn’t be here unless he wasn’t allowed.”

“Fuck. I hate fucking cameras.”

“Flip your glasses on. It will be easier to deal if you know they can’t see your eyes. Focus on the fans and stick right to my side. Sid won’t do or say anything with our every move being recorded.”

“I know all this, dickweed,” Finn snapped.

Ritchie cringed. “I’m not the enemy here, Finn.”

“Shit. I know. Sorry.” Finn took a deep breath and nodded. “I got this. Let’s go.”

They emerged into the baggage area and the paparazzi descended. Security stepped into the fray with them, and Sid fought through the crowd to get to them. Finn’s stomach dropped at the pinpoints of red popping up on Sid’s face, the clench of his jaw, his eyes narrowed as he pushed to get in front of Ritchie and Finn.

Sid’s fingers dug into Finn’s shoulder, and Sid yanked Ritchie closer. “No fan service today.” He let them go and bellowed, “Out of the way!”

The cameras clicked away, questions thrown at them, fans screaming and reaching out. Finn leaned into Ritchie’s broad back and inhaled. Dove soap. Lemon. Breathe. Having Ritchie here was the only thing keeping him together.

The bag was ripped from Finn’s shoulder, and he panicked, turning to see who’d taken it, but Finn recognized him as the same security guy who had flown with Evin into Nashville.

“I got it, get in the car,” he said and propelled Finn to the SUV.

He saw Ritchie as soon as he jumped inside and took a shaky breath as they were secured and the vehicle started moving.

Finn was on pins and needles. He could tell by the way Sid kept looking back over his shoulder, a scowl on his reddened face, Finn’s assumptions had been correct. He wasn’t paranoid, Sid was definitely about to drop some heavy shit on them. Hopefully the hotel was close, or Sid might just fucking explode before they made it.

Well…. That might not be a bad thing if Sid—Finn tensed. The thought of anyone else, especially Schaffer or—Finn swallowed hard—Miah, being the one to address Finn, Ritchie, and Evin’s relationship. No, this would be much better coming from Sid.

Finn leaned up and laid his hand on Sid’s shoulder. “Hey, we got time to stop for a drink? You look like you could use one, man. I’m buying.”

“Shut the fuck up, Finn,” Sid grumbled and turned his head back to the front of the vehicle.

“This is definitely about Nashville,” Ritchie whispered.

Fuck!

By the time they made it to the hotel, Finn’s hands were clammy, and as they walked along the hallway, he rubbed them against his jeans. He kept cutting glances toward Ritchie. The guy’s scowl was nearly as impressive as Sid’s. The situation was a total clusterfuck, Finn could easily admit, but they were rock stars, for fuck’s sake. Rock stars did crazy shit. They could blame it on the booze if it came out. No biggie.

“Hey, relax, dude, it’s going to be fine,” Finn whispered and bumped his shoulder against Ritchie.

Ritchie pursed his lips, his frown deepening, but didn’t respond.

Uh-oh.
If Ritchie was this worried, maybe it was worse than he thought.

Seconds after the door to their room clicked shut, Sid rounded on them. “You’re making me really work for my money, and that wasn’t part of the arrangement I made with Schaffer.” With each aggravation their tour manager had had to deal with on the European leg, he’d begun to morph into something new—more direct and confrontational. The Sid in front of them now was a whole other monster than the passive yes-man who’d first signed on with them six months ago.

Finn would have laughed at Sid’s bright red face if he didn’t know they were all fucked.

“I don’t know when exactly you two and Evin started fucking around, but don’t try to convince me that you haven’t. I spent the last month getting my shit in order and trying to keep your public personas on message without fucking you over. I’m trying here, and I need the same commitment from you.” Sid sighed. “Do you happen to notice where we are? This is not the US or select liberal areas of Europe. Fucking another man can get you jailed or killed in some of the countries we’re going to, including this one.”

Finn tried to swallow around a completely dry throat. Sid must have seen how freaked-out Finn was because he sighed again, went to the bar, and threw Finn a chilled bottle of water.

“I’m talking to you two about this and not Evin because our contract to make him a full member of Rez is about to go through. Until he’s official, it’s you two dipshits and Miah that I’m concerned with. Give it to me straight. We’re not talking about a relationship here, are we? ’Cause if there’s heart and flowers, that I can spin. It’s 2015, not the Middle Ages. But if we’re just talking about fucking and fun, then there’s no way I can get the label behind that.” Sid surveyed them and they both remained silent. “Anyone? Last fucking chance to speak your piece.”

Finn’s stomach dropped. What the fuck was he supposed to do here? The three of them had never had a conversation about what was going on. They
were
having fun, except Finn wasn’t having much fun anymore and the way he felt about Evin had spiraled way out of control past fun. He needed both Ritchie and Evin in his life—one of them because he was Finn’s best friend and the other because he was falling in love with him. But how the hell was he supposed to say that now in front of Sid and as part of a management talk when he didn’t have the balls to say it in the moments where it was just him and Ev?

Before he could work out how to reply, Sid was talking again, shutting out any chance of saying more. “Then we’re all on the same page. You all will be in breach of the morality clause of your contracts if you get caught. Don’t fuck with me, guys. I may be a pushover on some stuff, but this won’t be one of them. Be a lot more careful—understanding what the consequences are—or stop it. Those are your only two options. Does Miah have any idea this shit is going on?”

Ritchie visibly paled and shook his head.

“He doesn’t know,” Finn found the voice to confirm.

“Good, let’s keep it that way. Effective now, for this tour, Finn and Miah are rooming together. Ritchie, you’re with Evin.”

“Jesus, Sid. You know Miah’s going to ask what’s with the switch-up,” Finn exclaimed. He flopped down in one of the club chairs and ran his hands over his face. He patted his pockets for a lollipop and grumbled when he came up empty. He shoved back up out of his chair and went to his bag.

“I’m not so sure Finn rooming with Miah is such a good idea,” Ritchie pointed out. “They tend to grate on the other when confined to close quarters for too long. By the way, where the fuck is he? We just abandoned him at the airport.”

“Worry about yourselves right now, he’ll be here.” Sid crossed his arms over his chest, his jaw set, and he pointed a finger at Finn. “I don’t care if he grates on Miah or not. He and Evin are not sharing a room, understood? The touchy-feely shit between you two can be explained as lifelong friends, but Evin is the new kid. It won’t fly.”

Finn rummaged around in his bag and triumphantly pulled out his stash of blueberry suckers. He opened one, popped it in his mouth, and returned to his seat. He rolled his head on his neck and made the choice to be the little shit Sid was treating him as.

“You’re kind of sexy when you get riled up, Sid. You know that?”

“This is not a fucking joke,” Sid snapped.

“No shit, Sherlock, but seriously, it’s not—”

Ritchie moved between them, cutting off Finn’s words and blocking him from seeing Sid. “We got this. But switch it up and have Evin and Miah share a room. They spent a lot of time on break working on songs. We could use it as a good excuse for the change in roommates.”

“I don’t care what you tell him. But you three will fucking behave the rest of this tour. Is that understood?”

This secret had just gotten a hell of a lot bigger and harder to contain. And Finn was going to have to do it in his downtime now too since he and Evin wouldn’t be rooming together. Finn nodded in response to Sid’s question, Ritchie did the same, and Sid stormed out, muttering under his breath.

“Jesus H. Christ,” Ritchie grumbled and fell into the chair next to Finn when they were alone. He rested his elbows on his knees and hung his head in his hands. “We should have been more careful.”

“Yeah, well, tell that to a hard dick,” Finn retorted.

Ritchie’s head snapped up. “Do you understand how fucking bad a breach of contract could potentially be? Do you know what Miah will do to us if he finds out? You need to stop acting so goddamn flippant. This is
bad
. We’re damn lucky it was Sid who found out, or we’d have been guilty of bringing the rise of Rez to an end.”

“I
am
taking it serious, but that may be a little overly dramatic, don’t you think?”

“No, Finn, I don’t think it’s overly dramatic, it’s the hard-ass truth. And you’re going to keep your dick in your pants from here on out.”

The hell I am
was Finn’s first thought, but he didn’t say it out loud. The idea of having to keep his hands off Evin made him physically ill. Worse, he had no idea how to hide his feelings for Evin when he was just beginning to admit to himself what they were.

“W
HERE
THE
hell are Sid and the rest of the guys?” Miah asked when Mark met him at Arrivals, waving their security detail in to keep the paps back.

“Sid took them to the hotel, we’ll meet them there. Evin’s flight was delayed. Comes in later today.”

What the hell?
He hadn’t spent that much time in the bathroom primping. They could have waited. He sighed.
Assholes.
Miah gave a restrained smile and kept his mouth shut, allowing the paparazzi to swarm around him.

“Miah! When’s the second album coming out?”

Dodging paps was about to become impossible, especially in places like an airport. He hiked his duffel bag over his shoulder to make sure it was secure and pulled down the hem of his
Go ahead, tweet me
T-shirt with his handle custom printed on the back.

“Were those nudes hacked from Charlene B’s phone real?”

He kept walking, sunglasses covering his eyes, well aware that the bracelet he wore today was the same one seen in the stolen pics. The top half of his hair, longer now than it had been for the European tour, was pulled back in a tie. A lock fell loose over the top of his sunglasses and the cameras flashed. He’d do a search tonight for the best shots because he knew he looked good.

“Come on, Miah! Give us something!”

Mark eyed him and gave a subtle shake of his head.

“How do Charlene’s tits look in person?”

Fucking fantastic
, he wanted to say but kept his responses internal.

“Is it true Finn is gay?”

Yeah, right.

“Are you going to play any new songs at the show?”

Rezors would have that info before any press.

“How does it feel to have the number one alternative single in the UK and US?”

That was one he would answer out loud, despite Mark’s plea for him to keep silent. “It’s only the beginning.” Miah waved and hopped into the back of the SUV waiting at the curb.

“You assholes couldn’t wait a few minutes for me?” he asked as soon as he stepped through the door and caught sight of Ritchie and Finn.

“I… um…,” Ritchie sputtered.

“Sid told us to get in the car, we got in the car,” Finn explained.

Miah’s eyes narrowed as he took in the tense posture and averted eyes of both Ritchie and Finn from where they sat around a small table. “What the hell is going on? Where’s Sid?”

Finn pulled the sucker from his mouth, twirled it in his fingers. “I’m not his keeper,” he drawled before popping the candy back in.