The Love Song of Sawyer Bell by Avon Gale

Author:Avon Gale [Gale, Avon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Riptide Publishing
Published: 2017-09-22T18:30:00+00:00

Sawyer was getting settled in the greenroom at the Wonder Ballroom in Portland when she realized she’d left her bottle of water in the van. It was a brand-new bottle of water too. Not one she’d been refilling constantly for two weeks, the plastic slowly losing its shape and bending in mysterious ways from the pressure of her fingers. No, this was a nice, firm new bottle of SmartWater with the cap unbroken, and she’d been saving it for before the show. Portland wasn’t as hot as some of the other places they’d been, but the water would be warm and gross from baking in the van if she didn’t retrieve it.

Damn it all. Sawyer went and found Jeff, who was deeply engrossed in his preshow ritual of eating chips and watching Netflix on his phone. She tapped him on the shoulder.

He looked up at her with a smile and tugged the headphones from his ears. “Hey, what’s up?”

She held her hand out. “Can I have the keys to the van? I need to rob a bank and go on a joyride for a few hours. It’s my version of Netflix and Chill.”

Jeff grinned. “You’re so much funnier than I thought you’d be.” He dug in his pocket before producing the van keys and tossing them at her. “Fill it up with gas first, would you?”

“You never saw me,” Sawyer intoned, wiggling her fingers with the keys grasped in her palm. “And I was never here.”

He laughed and went back to his show, and she left the venue’s greenroom and headed toward the exit. The vans were parked behind the ballroom, and awesomely, all the music gear was already in the venue and everyone’s personal belongings were stowed in the hotel. They’d have a night here and then a drive to Seattle. She was looking forward to that, and to the show in Vancouver.

After retrieving her water, she made her way back inside—only to be immediately assailed by the smell of weed coming from the greenroom.

She’d been gone for less than five minutes, and already the guys had lit up a pipe. Sawyer sighed. Everyone must have consumed all their edibles from Denver, which was a shame. She didn’t mind the idea of pot, but the smell wasn’t her favorite. For some reason, Vix’s cigarettes never bothered her. Though maybe that was because—well. Because it was Vix.

Sawyer decided to take a detour and headed toward the empty stage. She was glad that she’d never said anything about being jealous of Jax to Vix at that show in Salt Lake. It had warmed her considerably that Vix knew something was wrong and had taken the time to find out what it was. That, coupled with Sawyer’s admittedly immature stunt of not riding in her usual seat next to Vix, made her determined to forget it. They’d had fun in Salt Lake. That memory of sitting on a road case with her spread legs draped around Vix’s shoulders and Vix’s mouth on her, making her come .

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