relative, of
course. I couldn’t wander around to go sight-seeing. I might have been able to get away with it as an arctic fox,
but I only felt comfortable shifting when Austin was with me. The joys of not being massively in touch with my
animal side. I couldn’t bake while stuck in a hotel room, so I’d decided to carry on learning to play the piano.
Trent sat on the sofa, reading on his tablet, wincing every time I hit a wrong note or mashed two keys together
while trying to play the simple song Austin had been teaching me. Any hopes I had of being able to play the
piano part on one of my songs by the end of the tour died as I struggled with the opening four bars.
“Why can’t I get it right?” I grumbled.
“Maybe you need to take a break?”
“And do what?”
I stood and crossed over to the window, which overlooked the front entrance. Twenty or so fans carrying ‘We love
you, Charlie’ placards were camped out around the entrance along with some photographers and reporters. I’d
signed a bunch of autographs when we’d arrived at the hotel a few hours earlier, but clearly, more fans had got the
memo that I was staying there. I’d go out again in a bit to say hi, but I couldn’t spend every waking hour with my
fans.
“Read?” Trent suggested.
I had too much energy to sit and read.
“Write a song?”
I snorted. “Yeah, right, like I could.”
Trent raised his eyebrows.
“I sing. That’s the limit of my talents.”
“That’s a very negative attitude.”
“That’s why I’m learning to play the piano. Or trying to anyway.”
“Why don’t you call Austin and ask him to give you a lesson?”
“Over the phone?”
“I was thinking video chat, but yeah.” His eyes twinkled. “I can leave you to it if you want.”
I folded my arms. “And just what do you think we’d do during a piano lesson?”
He shrugged. “I couldn’t possibly comment.”
“You four have been making bets on me again, haven’t you?”
Trent zipped his fingers across his lips.
“What have you bet on this time? How long it’ll be before Austin and I have phone sex?”
Trent smirked.
“You’re a bunch of pervs,” I muttered. “And you’re all far too interested in my sex life.”
“We’re all concerned for your well-being.”
“What’s that gotta do with sex?”
“We don’t want you getting all grumpy. Three months is a long time to abstain.”
“Aww, are you worried you won’t cope?”
Trent grinned. “I’ll cope. We’re not at your beck and call twenty-four seven, you know? We get time off.”
“I don’t need to know what you’re planning on getting up to during your free time.”
“And I’m pretty sure Greg will be having plenty of video calls with his mate.”
I pressed my hands against my ears. “La, la, la, I’m not listening.”
Trent howled with laughter, which filled the hotel room. He was a huge guy who could make a lot of noise.
“Call Austin. Then you won’t have to listen to me,” Trent said once he’d got a grip on himself.
“Fine. I will.”
Trent’s expression became smug.
“Are you going?” I asked.
“I’ll be in my room if you need anything.”
I waited for him to go. I knew he’d played me, but it was hard to be annoyed, especially as I did want to talk to
Austin. I sat at the keyboard, propped my phone up against the built-in music stand, and placed a video call. I
grinned when Austin accepted the call and his face appeared on the screen.
“Hey,” I said.
“This is unexpected,” Austin said.
“You weren’t in the middle of something, were you?”
“No. Just getting some delicious-smelling cookies out of the oven.” He turned the phone around to show me the
cookies on the baking tray.
“They look yummy.”
“I’m sure I’ll enjoy them later, when they’re cool.”
“They’re at their most gooey when they’re still warm.”
Austin laughed. “I’m sure they are. But straight out of the oven is too hot.”
“True.”
He put the phone down, giving me a great view of the ceiling. I heard a cupboard door shut and the metallic thud
of something being put down on the counter.
“How was the trip to Copenhagen?” Austin asked.
“About as good as spending hours on a tour bus can ever be. You know how it is.”
“Yes. I’m actually quite glad Jesse isn’t going on tour anytime soon.”
“So that’s the real reason you didn’t want to come with me?” I said in a fake sulky tone. “You didn’t want to
spend days on a tour bus.”
“At least you don’t sleep on one.”
“Yeah, that’s true. When Jesse