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Tristan held me to him, softly, like he was taking special care. I closed my eyes
and leaned my head on his chest. He was so much larger than I was. I just wanted to
feel his arms wrap around me and hear his heartbeat, steady and solid against my ear.
Until this feeling stopped. Wanting wasn’t getting though, and I knew he wouldn’t
sit still that much longer, off to make phone calls, coffee, something. So I held
on a little tighter, and curved my legs over his, so I could feel his thighs against
mine. Hard muscles, soft skin, the slight scratch of hair. The closest I could get
to having him wrapped around me, keeping me safe. For a while. I breathed in, a big
shuddering gasp, and I closed my eyes again. I wasn’t going to think. He was here,
and I was here, warm in the grip of his strong arms. It was good enough.

Hank’s voice broke through my thoughts. “She’s good company, Tristan, that Lily girl.
I’ve decided. I’m going to keep her on the road with me.” He stopped for a moment.
“I think she’s got a taste for it.”

Tristan laughed. “Is that so?” He kissed the top of my head. “Queen of the road, then.”
But I could feel his whole stance change. He tightened his arms around me, and pulled
me up on to his lap, and now he really was cradling me, almost possessive. “I think
you’ll have to find your own, Hank, mate. I’m holding on to this one.”

Hank let out a low whistle. “Is that so? Well, if you’re sure. Don’t forget, Lily.
Offer still stands. Not many like you in this world.”

I smiled against Tristan’s chest. For a moment I loved Hank just as much. “I’ll never
forget.”

chapter twelve

Minneapolis

The hotel in Minneapolis was a welcome change from the bus. Climbing down the big
stairs, out on to the road, I felt like I’d disembarked from a boat—the ground still
seemed as though it was humming and shifting under my feet. The hotel itself was nice
enough, the usual collection of bad paintings, marble facings, and armchairs that
looked more comfortable than they were. But we took one look at the room, another
TV behind a fake mahogany cabinet, another pair of tasteful lamps, another polyester
bedspread covered with the carefully handwritten welcome and pair of chocolates and
decided we needed some sunlight and air.

Tristan had slipped us out the service entrance for a walk. Now he was laughing at
my complaints of feeling seasick. “That happens sometimes. But you probably won’t
be able to sleep now either, not that you’ve gotten used to the movement.” He stopped
and winked at me. “Then you’ll become a real tour rat, unable to sleep, dozing off
during the day, up all night.” I swatted him. He caught my wrist in his, and pulled
me to him. “Then you’ll have to tour forever, with me, and we’ll never sleep. You’ll
have to sing with me in trucker bars, telling stories of the road.”

“Will we have a trailer?”

“No, we’ll have a truck, and sleep on a mattress. When it’s clear and warm, we’ll
put it on the roof, and look at the stars.”

I shook my head. “You’ll miss the city life.”

He took my hand. “I don’t know. Maybe I would. I like this though.” He waved an arm
at the wide straight street, headed for the outskirts of town. “We could disappear
out here. No one would find us.”

I linked my arm through his. “I think you’re pretty easy to find in a crowd. Look
at you.”

Tristan frowned for a moment. “True. True. Easily solved. When we’re on the road again,
I’m getting a trucker hat. Stuff all my hair underneath.”

“What about the leather jacket?”

“I haven’t gotten that far yet.” He stopped and turned me to face him. “You know,
you can’t exactly go undercover anymore.”

I shrugged. “That’s because I’m with you. People stop to look at you. No one knows
what I look like anyway. People might know my name from the writing, but there’s no
face.”

Tristan frowned again. “Well, not anymore.”

“What? Why?” I tried to make a joke. “Am I super famous now, like you?”

Tristan didn’t look happy. “Didn’t Dave talk to you? He said he was going to call
you.”

Now it was my turn to make a face. “I didn’t…I saw he called.” I looked away. “I didn’t
feel like talking much. I’ve been emailing him with blog updates. It’s been all right,
for the moment, anyway.” I didn’t mention that I hadn’t trusted myself to talk to
him this morning. One soft word from him, and I might have been telling him all my
worries. “I guess I should have called him.”

“You know, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Tristan smiled. “But he’s still your boss.
Mostly, anyway.”

I thought about the other reason I didn’t always want to talk to him. That direction
seemed a safer option. “Sometimes when I talk to him…I don’t know. No one likes to
be reminded they lost. Especially not someone like that. Especially not Dave.”

“The ego of man. He’ll live, trust me.”

I looked up at Tristan. “I’m sure he will. Anyway, I know I made the right choice.”

Tristan gave me a little shove. “Are you sure?” Then he bent down and kissed me, his
tongue teasing the corners of my mouth.

It just felt too good. I let my mind go blank, just feeling the width of his back
under my hands, his skin, warm and with the faint smell of the cologne he’d tried
out when we were out shopping yesterday on North Michigan Avenue still lingering on
his hair. “Spray perfume in your hair, that’s what my grandmother always told me women
did. I figured it would work for me too,” he’d said as he sprayed a little cloud of
it around his head, and walked through it, while the saleswoman gazed at him like
he had come to rescue her from a tower. He’d bought a bottle, and signed a card for
her. The scent suited him, a complement to the way his skin smelled, sweet and salty,
the smell of grass on a summer day, the smell of dark skies in the middle of the night.

The warmth of him, his quiet strength, the way he gave himself up to the kissing.
Some people walked by, and he slowly pulled away, remembering we weren’t alone. “We
could go back up to the room,” he whispered. I was about to answer, when he stopped
me from speaking with another small kiss. “No, wait. What I was about to tell you.
Dave. He saw the picture on
Just Jared
, and he told me he was going to run your pieces with a small headshot of you from
now on. They’re updating the link on the website too.” He ran his hand through his
dark hair. “He’ll talk to you about everything.”

“What picture?” I asked, slowly. “When did this happen?” I wasn’t sure I really wanted
my face everywhere, but it looked like it was too late for that.

Tristan looked annoyed. “This morning. They’re quick. I told James to show you. Never
mind—here. Look.” And he pulled out his phone, and starting pulling up a photo. He
enlarged it as much as he could, so you had to scroll down to see the entire thing,
but there it was. A picture of us coming out of the restaurant in Chicago, Tristan
opening the door to a cab, me looking around as always, slightly wary. It was a very
clear picture. The caption was pretty definite too. “Tristan Hunter, former lead singer
with Devised, out in Chicago with his new girlfriend Lily Taylor, a writer for music
magazine
The Core
. Hunter is on tour, promoting his new solo album,
Some of Us Remember the Future.
”

I stared at the photo. Then I looked up at Tristan. “Seems a bit of a coincidence.”

“Which thing in particular? It all does.”

I smiled at him. “That’s why you’re wonderful. Exactly. How did they know we were
there…”

He finished my sentence for me. “…and how did Dave know about it practically before
the picture was run?”

I nodded at him. “It’s a bit of a mystery. Either he’s having us followed, or they
contacted him first before they went with it.”

Tristan shrugged. “He’s got friends everywhere. And enemies. It wouldn’t take a lot
for someone to realize the connection between me, you, and the magazine, and think
to call him for more information.”

“He probably bought the photo himself and sold it for more to
Just Jared
.”

Tristan laughed. “I wouldn’t be surprised.” He grew serious. “But it does mean we
need to keep an eye out.” He looked up at the sky. “It was only supposed to be a small
tour.” He took my hand again. “Lily, I don’t want you to go out without someone with
you, ok?”

I sighed. It was nice to be looked after, but I didn’t want to be guarded. “Tristan,
I’ll be fine.”

“It’s a good idea. Really. Lily, listen to me.” He looked around, suddenly edgy. “Let’s
keep walking, ok?” He stood up and pulled me up with him. We walked for a few blocks
in silence. Suddenly everyone on the streets seemed to notice us. Maybe it was just
that we were giving out some kind of electric charge on the energy we were producing.
Or that Tristan, tall, dark, and always looking like a rock star, even in a t-shirt
and jeans, was attracting attention, as he did. Used to standing out in the crowd,
Tristan seemed to take up more space than everyone else. He noticed I was looking
around, nervously. “Hey, Lily love. Please don’t worry. It’s fine. It’s just that
no one really knew what you looked like before, and now they do.”

“I know. I know. It’s ok. I’m famous. Can’t do my own shopping. But I’ll finally get
a good table at the last minute.”

Tristan laughed. “Yeah, it’s got perks. No doubt. And most of the crowds are really
good people…”

I finished his sentence for him. We’d been doing that a lot lately, I suddenly realized.
“…but some of them aren’t too thrilled to see you hooked up with someone.”

He looked straight ahead. “I get threats too. You just ignore them, mostly.”

I stopped short, then looked around, and started walking again. We probably looked
like we were on drugs or something, I thought. Not really walking with a destination.
“Threats?”

He sounded so casual. “Sure. Mostly things about the lyrics or the evil of drugs,
or the way I look, or just attention seekers. You know, like the people on Twitter
who ignore everything you say, but respond to every announcement, every tweet with
a plea for you to follow them.” He put his arm around me. “Some people just have their
obsessional moment, it passes.” He pulled me closer to him. “But some are a little
more insistent, say crazy things.” He shook his head. “It’s a little weird. You get
used to it. Mostly. But for right now, I want you to be careful.”

“Ok.” I shrugged.

Tristan stopped again. “Ok? That’s it? No arguments?”

“No, why would I argue? You’ve been doing this longer than I have. You’re probably
right. So now, I’m freaking out a little just walking around Minneapolis. In daylight.
Hardly a war zone. No, whatever you want.” For some reason, one of the lyrics from
a Pulp song came to mind. “What exactly do you do for an encore? Cause this is hardcore.”

Tristan took my hand. “Come on, let’s walk.” We headed down Hennepin Avenue towards
the river. Tristan wanted to get to the water and see the warehouses, if we could
make it that far. I was starting to feel like we were on the warehouse tour of North
America. It was amazing how many beautiful, desolate brick buildings still existed,
even here. But for once, I wasn’t sure I felt like walking in some half-populated
fiction of industry.

He wrapped his fingers around mine, and pulled me closer to him. “Don’t go crazy on
me now.” We walked a bit further, then crossed the street. It was a normal day, in
a normal town. All around us, people were getting through life, answering calls, kicking
off their shoes surreptitiously under their desks, fighting for little successes,
mostly wishing they could go home. And here we were, out in the daylight for what
felt like the first time in a while, an anomaly in the normal order of life. Tristan
put his arm around me. I stopped holding my breath, and leaned into him. He kissed
the top of my head, and hugged me. “You get used to it, Lily love. And if you get
a little more careful, a little more wary, then that’s the price you pay.”

I hugged him back. “It’ll be ok. I’ll be ok. It’s what I want, remember?” And I twisted
a finger around the necklace that I wore all the time, that I hadn’t taken off since
the night in that Lower East Side bar, where he’d found me again, and we’d vowed to
stop fighting what we so obviously had together. I thought of AC. And then I didn’t.

Tristan smiled at me, that blazing grin that literally seemed to dissolve my vision,
and reduce everything to a corridor of energy running between us. “You’re smart, and
watchful and so am I. Although I might get Rick over here. Remember him? He frightens
everyone. His network isn’t quite the same on this side of the pond, but he’s still
a big guy.” He laughed. “Did you know he once pulled me out of the crowd and up onto
the next balcony? The crowd was getting a little too excited.”

I gazed at him, all 6 foot 2 of skin and muscle and leather. It didn’t seem possible.
“That’s kind of unbelievable.”

“Yeah, I didn’t quite believe it either. But he was worried. And when we’re worried,
we do amazing things sometimes.” He pulled me up to him and touched his lips gently
to mine, the faint scratch of stubble grazing my chin, before moving around my cheek,
where he kissed me again. “I’m looking after you. Don’t worry. Don’t go anywhere.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

He turned us around and we started walking back the way we came, the large concrete
blocks of the sidewalk making our steps seem slower, less productive than they would
be elsewhere. The distances out here were starting to get to me, the endless landscape.
“I really wanted to drive us out by Paisley Park. I would have liked to see it. But
we’ve got sound check, the show, then dinner with the band, then the bloody DJ set.
I promised them I’d be there.”

“It’s ok. We’ll come back. Or maybe we’ll steal the bus and drive out there. It’s
like half an hour, right? They can all camp out while we’re gone.”

Tristan smirked. “Are you going to drive?”

“Damn straight. Just try me. Besides, Hank’s taught me everything he knows.”

He stopped again and kissed me before I had a chance to breathe. “It what makes you
so incredible. You probably would do it,” he said, as he broke off the kiss. “But
don’t.” He winked at me. “I’ll be watching you. No bus theft. It’s not on the rider.”

“Can I have our hotel rooms painted pink?”

“I’ve already asked for them to be painted black, sorry.”

“But no one can look at me as I walk by.”

Tristan laughed. “That already happens love, they’re all terrified of you. You vixen.”

I shook my head. “No, doll, that’s you. You’ve frightened them all off. You and your
very tall, very angry, very crazy self.”

“I have no idea what you are on about. Speak to my manager. Actually don’t. He’s fucking
useless.”

And we both started giggling like a bunch of kids in class who’d been told not to
laugh. We kept bursting out laughing as we walked. I was sure that some of the people
giving us filthy looks thought we were laughing at them. But we were just happy. And
we turned around and walked all the way back like that, past the cars, the buildings,
the people doing their everyday tasks. Then we found ourselves in front of the hotel.
The outside was a strange sandstone color, with bars on one of the big windows—it
had apparently been a bank. I thought it looked a little like a jail.

We went in. It was only us, and AC had begged for a room too. The other two were staying
on the bus. Tristan had told James he wanted a little private time away from it all,
especially as we were about to do a five day long haul on the bus down to Texas. But
even though the place was supposed to be a bit nicer, it was still a typical chain
hotel, the big yellow diamond shapes on the polished white floor repeated in the oddly
colored gold grey carpet around the edges, dotted with chairs where you could sit,
if you wanted to hang out in hotel lobbies. I looked around, and saw a couple of hopeful
fans notice that we were there, and start to approach us. I nudged Tristan, who looked
up from asking the front desk staff to send up some sparkling water and a bottle of
champagne. “For later,” he whispered in my ear. Out loud, he said thank you to the
man behind the desk, and turned to face the four girls headed our way. He glanced
around to see if anyone else was heading over, or noticed, and he advanced a little
ways towards the elevators, watching them slow down, uncertain if they should approach
him. He finally stopped. Taking this as encouragement, they came rushing over, as
though this was their last chance. Which it possibly was. He moved me behind him,
ever so slightly, as the first girl approached ahead of her friends, turning around
to make sure they were still there.