Part three

The tour bus rumbled down the empty highway, its low hum the only sound in the dimly lit back lounge. The rest of the crew was either up front or knocked out in their bunks, leaving Ryk and Zane in their own heated bubble. The amber glow of the overhead lights bathed Zane’s lean frame as he lounged on the leather couch, legs spread wide, towel discarded somewhere on the floor. His platinum hair was mussed, eyes glinting with mischief as he beckoned Ryk closer with a crooked ...