“Oh, it’s both.” I shrug at the rest and tell her, “The label and our agent already view the band as two parts—Christian acts like it too sometimes when he’s following the money. A separate dressing room only feeds into it. If it backs up we’re a single unit, I’ll feel you up in hallways.”

She nods while messing with my shirt. “Mac pushed for the focus of the doc to be on you. I told Heath I wouldn’t do it, and if they press again in post-production, he said he’ll back me up. I refuse to make a cut downplaying Dev and Felix into supporting roles.”

I groan and kiss her. “Could you stop being so fucking perfect? It’s pretty disgusting.”

When she smiles, I kiss it too. “Okay, so I get the one dressing room, and I know why I avoid it after a concert.”

“But…” I tuck my fingers under the top of her tight, ripped jeans.

“You used to go in,” she says, squinting at me. “You never even hesitated until these concerts after the break.”

I scrunch my face and turn my head away from her.

“You don’t have to now, either.”

With a sigh, I look back at her. “The second I walk in there, I’ll have tits rubbing on me and need to guard my dick while dodging chicks on their knees.”

A slight pink stains her cheeks, a jealous glint in her emerald eyes. “Is that any different than the rest of the tour?”

“Remi,” I say, but she hits me with a, “Foster.”

I smirk as she blinks, like she’s forcing the next words out.

“Do I love the idea of you being in a room with gorgeous naked women getting railed? No. But it’s part of the gig. Plus, I’ve watched women throwing themselves at you this whole time, and I have yet to snap.” Her smile’s fake as hell. “So, we should be good.”

A loud as fuck moan comes through the wall behind me as she finishes. Remi glances down, lips pursed, and I shake my head. My fingers hook under her chin and lift to bring her face up again.

“Are you done?” Once she nods, I hang my head closer to her. “I haven’t touched anyone since you’ve been on tour, Remi. I haven’t even looked since I heard your name again. The reason it’s different going in there now is I won’t risk you thinking otherwise for a second. I don’t want anything to do with what’s on the other side of the door, and I won’t even let the possibility worry you. A little change in my post-show ritual is nothing.”

“I wouldn’t care if you went in, though,” she almost whispers. Her eyes bounce between mine until I press our foreheads together.