The Tusk tour felt unending. The band had played dates in North America, Japan, Australia, New Zealand, and another leg in North America. They were playing to sold out crowds for most of the shows, but the schedule was taking its toll on everyone, especially Stevie. She was exhausted and worn down. Her heart had been shattered after leaving Skylar a second time. The goodbyes didn't get easier even if her baby girl was in the wonderful and capable hands of her paternal grandmother. Stevie was wishing the European time away until she was back in the States, and Skylar could be with her and Lindsey. The little girl loved to travel and had surprised everyone with how well she'd adjusted to tour life during the two North American legs. As much as she hated it, Stevie was glad that Skylar was in northern California instead of a windy and rainy London.
Lindsey crept into the dimly lit bedroom of their hotel room. It was nearly noon and a surprisingly beautiful day. He hoped the prediction of rain showers later was false. He stared at Stevie's sleeping form in the middle of the king-sized for a few moments before slipping in behind her. "Stevie, baby," he whispered, kissing her face and tugging the covers from her body. She groaned and roughly pushed him away. He rolled his eyes in annoyance and fiddled with the strap of her lacy black nighty. "C'mon, get out of bed. Let's see the sights before a monsoon starts."
She opened her eyes, glaring fiercely at him. "Lindsey, the only sights I want to see are the back of my eyelids." Her voice was raspy from two back to back performances of Rhiannon. Her vocal chords needed a rest, or she'd sound horrible for the next show in two days.
He sighed but nodded his head in understanding, tenderly pressing his lips to the middle of her forehead. "Get some rest," he told her softly, knowing she would need plenty for the remaining performances at Wembley. "I love you."
Stevie touched his face softly and shut her eyes, pulling the heavy blankets over her and burrowing deeply into the bedding. She drifted back to sleep before he left the bedroom. Lindsey stopped at the door and glanced back to the bedroom door of the suite. He blew out a breath, shaking himself out of his worrying thoughts. To him, Stevie hadn't been herself since the beginning of the European dates. He couldn't figure out why.
On his way out of the hotel, Lindsey made a detour. He strode past the elevator and continued down the corridor. He nearly passed by the room he was searching for and stopped in his tracks. Lindsey knocked on the door and impatiently tapped his foot. He lifted his fist to pound on the door when the room's occupant opened the door. "You look like shit," he said to the brunette.
Robin raised her middle finger and smiled broadly at her best friend's significant other. "Thanks, jackass," she muttered and pushed the door to close it. "Oh my God," she griped, staring at Lindsey's foot in the doorway. "What do you want?"
"Rob, I need a favor."
"I'm not going sightseeing with you. I'd rather stab a fork into my eye," she answered in her brutally honest way.
Lindsey rolled his blue eyes and shook his head. "Can you ever say anything nice to me, Robin?"
"Yeah," she answered. "Lindsey, move your foot, please," she requested in a sugary tone with a smile to match.
"C'mon, Rob. Let me in. I need a favor."
Robin sighed and rested her head against the door. She closed her eyes and grumbled under her breath before opening the door fully and allowing him into her room. "What do you want, Lindsey? I'm hungover," she informed him, touching her forehead lightly.
He smirked. She should have known better than to have a night out with Christine. Lindsey closed the door behind him and watched Robin fumble to open a bottle of aspirin. He walked over and took the pill bottle from her hands, opening it and bumping out two pills. "Check on Stevie. You know she hasn't been herself lately. Please, Robin?" he begged.
