Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 33965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
And then Asher started following Brielle around with hearts in his eyes. I don't know what the fuck is going on with Jameson, but he's been acting weird since the tour started…right about the time our new tour manager waltzed in. And Mason has his own situation going on. His nose is stuck in his phone more often than not.
We're falling like fucking dominoes around here. It's impressive and terrifying.
I seem to be the last motherfucker standing. And the last thing I need to do is fall in love on this tour. We're halfway through.
Surely Shelby is almost out of friends by now, right?
"Another girl," Mason growls, stomping toward the stage with me. "She has another friend."
"So you're pissed she has friends?"
Mason doesn't handle people well. Ironic, all things considered, but true. He prefers them in small doses.
He shoots me a dirty glare. "Do you want to end up married by the end of this tour, motherfucker? Because you just might if she keeps collecting friends in every city."
"Yeah, that's not happening."
"Yeah?" He smirks like he knows something I don't. "We'll see."
"What does that mean?"
He ignores me, so I grab his arm, halting him in his tracks.
"What does that mean, Binksy?" I growl the nickname he hates, not playing this cryptic shit. I've gone out of my way to avoid being linked with anyone this entire tour. I refuse to be fodder for the tabloids again. Being labeled the heartthrob ten years ago was a goddamn nightmare, especially when I was a fucking virgin. I had nightmares about the media finding out the truth and spilling my big secret to the world.
Jax had it bad, but none of us escaped unscathed. I've gotten used to the privacy I've carved out for myself in the last ten years. No one gives a shit about a former boy bander in a city like Nashville. I fly under the radar, especially since my brother, Cortez, became a certified billionaire.
I've managed to stay out of the tabloids for the majority of this tour. I'd like to keep it that way. Particularly given that I'm ten years older and still carrying the same secret. The tabloids would have a field day with the fact that I'm a goddamn virgin at my age.
"They were talking about you," Mase says. "The new bird wants an interview."
"Hell no." I've been nice and more than patient with the girls. Even when shit has gone completely sideways because the guys have stars in their eyes, I've been supportive. But I draw the line at giving an interview. We've done plenty of those on this tour. They all ask the same bullshit, asinine questions.
"Knew you'd say that," Mason smirks at me. "Just don't be a right arse when you shoot her down. She's staying for the rest of the tour."
Of course she is. This tour is quickly becoming my own personal hell. It serves me right for pretending to be all kumbaya about it to the guys. Karma is a bitch. The only thing that works faster is the internet.
"Were you listening at the damn door?" I growl, stomping up the steps to the stage for rehearsal. Our next show is tonight. We need to run through everything to make sure our shit traveled all right and we're good to go.
"What? No." He scowls at me. "I was talking to Jax. He's in their dressing room with Dani."
Jax and Dani have been attached at the hip since they got together. She's been good for him. Really fucking good, actually. I've never seen him so settled or so happy. It's a good look on him. If anything positive has come from having the girls here, it's the fact that Dani has kept Jax grounded.
I'm just seriously fucking worried about the rest of the band. Asher's got his head in the clouds. Jameson swears he's told us everything about his situation, but I'd bet my left nut that he's hiding something. And Mason is…well, he's Mason. He's writing love songs like they're going out of style. If things don't work out for him in Texas, it'll crush him.
I don't have time to worry about it right now, though. Apparently, I need to keep my own ass out of the fire. I don't know what kind of magic these women possess, but they're dangerous.
None of this was on my bingo card for this tour. Screaming fans? Check. Wild nights? Check. Possibly crashing and burning? Also check. Falling like dominoes for a group of wild women? Nope. Not on the card.
Clearly, we should have planned better.
I make a mental note to avoid the girls at all costs. At least for the foreseeable future. It's not much of a plan, but it's the best one I've got that doesn't involve shooting this girl's request down, pissing off our tour manager and half the band. Or inadvertently ending up married.