treat her better, or she was going to find someone else to teach her things. The very idea of another man touching her had him clinging to his thighs to keep his hands from balling into fists.
Another elbow in his ribs, allowed Logan to catch the tail end of the radio host’s question.
“. . . concert tonight?”
“Oh, yeah. Can’t wait. The fuckers in this town know how to party.” He made a set of devil horns and his rock-on face.
Everyone in the room stared at him as if he’d sprouted purple fur on his eyeballs and then burst out laughing.
“What?” he asked. “What did I say?” He probably shouldn’t have said fuckers on public radio, but he was sure some intern with fast reflexes had bleeped it out.
“He asked if you’d heard that a church group was protesting the concert tonight,” Dare said.
Smooth, Logan. “Don’t you think our fans should party with those effing protesters? Bring them over to the dark side?” Were they buying his attempt to cover up his slip?
His bandmates rolled their eyes at him, but the radio host took a liking to his idea. “KY101 will be there to get in on the action.”
“Free backstage passes to any fan who can get a protester to agree to come backstage with them,” Logan said, knowing he was taking this too far, but hell, he’d already fucked up, might as well make it an epic fail.
Max covered his microphone with one hand. “You’re gonna get someone killed,” he whispered angrily at Logan.
Shit, Logan thought. There he went acting and not thinking again. “Not by force or gunpoint,” he said into the microphone in front of him, knowing how dedicated some of their fans were and the lengths some of them would go for a backstage pass. “The protester has to legitimately want to come backstage because you convinced them that we’re awesome. And not Satanists.”
“Logan, I’m going to kick you in the teeth if you don’t shut up,” Max whispered harshly.
Logan produced his toothiest grin, knowing Max was all talk.
“You heard it, folks. If you can get a protester to agree to go backstage after the show . . .”
Logan glanced at Butch, who was standing in the corner scowling at the schedule he had clipped to a clipboard. “Before the show,” Logan said. They didn’t need any protestors at their after-party.
“Before the show,” the host echoed.
“At the meet and greet,” Dare said, as if struck by sudden inspiration.
Max nodded slightly, no longer looking like he wanted blood on his hands. Logan’s blood. Logan should have been paying attention to the interview instead of the sexy woman in nerds’ clothing who was grinning again as she wrote notes on a legal pad. If she was amused by him acting impulsively stupid, she’d have no problem being continually entertained. He could only concentrate on one thing at a time, and the woman had his full and undivided attention.
“Thanks for having us,” he heard one of his bandmates say.
Was it over then? That hadn’t taken very long. He would have been better off staying in the limo with Toni for the duration. For more than one reason. After the customary words of appreciation and handshakes with their hosts, Logan scrambled to open the door for Toni and stayed by her side as they were escorted to the elevator. Butch joined the band and Toni in the elevator car. Reagan was holding her security guard’s hand—Logan thought the dude’s name was Ethan, but he wasn’t good with names.
“I’ll catch the next one,” Reagan said. So sweet that she wanted a moment alone with her second boyfriend. Logan wasn’t sure how the woman could date two guys and keep them from killing each other in a jealous rage, but the three of them seemed to have it all worked out. No way Logan would ever let another man touch the woman he loved. Or even lusted. As soon as the elevator doors slid shut, Logan was bombarded with accusations.
“This is why we are agreed not to let women on the bus. Exactly this,” Max said. “None of the rest of us have this problem. It’s you. You have the attention span of a goldfish in heat.”
“What in the fuck were you thinking, dude?” Steve asked.
“He wasn’t thinking,” Dare said. “At least not with his brain.”
Logan didn’t mind be called out by his bandmates. He’d fucked up, he owned that. He did mind them busting his balls in front of Toni. Not cool.