Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“How so?”
“I have this fear that we’re going to get into an accident. So I can’t relax. I feel like I need to be on alert.”
“You’d rather be awake and alert if the bus crashes? Wouldn’t it be better to be asleep and not know what hit you?”
“No. I’d die of a heart attack from the shock of waking up that way. If I could see it coming first, I’d be better able to handle it.”
I chuckled. “But you eventually fall asleep, right?”
“Gradually, my tiredness wins out, yeah.”
“If I were on this bus, I’d sing you a lullaby or tell you a bedtime story.”
“That would be awesome, but you should probably rest your voice.” She smiled. “Why don’t you go get something to eat if you’re hungry?”
Because I’m not really that hungry. I just wanted an excuse to see you. “Yeah, maybe. I’m sure catering has something for me to eat back on the bus.”
She arched a brow. “Not a woman, I presume?”
Emily’s innuendo gave me a visual of eating her that I had no business entertaining, even in my imagination. I cleared my throat. “Not a woman, no.”
“Not tonight at least.” She winked.
If she only knew how uninterested I was in anyone else right now.
I glanced up to find Veronica shooting daggers at me. “Why is she looking at me like that?”
“Because she’s the den mother of the crew, and she probably doesn’t trust you.”
She shouldn’t.
I guess I wasn’t as nonchalant as I’d hoped. “Does this seem suspicious? Me talking to you?”
“A little,” she answered.
“I don’t care what they think, if you don’t.”
“I do like talking to you,” she said.
That sent a jolt of excitement through me. “I like talking to you, too, Emily.” I smiled. “A lot.”
Which is exactly why I should go.
I reluctantly stood. “Well, I’ll let you get on with your night. Don’t want to overstay my welcome. You were reading a book.”
She picked it up and flipped it over. “It’s not that good.”
“Kind of like my performances lately.” I winked and took a step back. “Have a good night.”
“You, too.”
I saluted her. “See you in Chicago.”
“Yeah. See you there.”
I couldn’t help myself. “Maybe I can convince you to get a bite to eat with me there?”
She rolled her eyes. “Maybe.”
I inwardly fist-pumped. “Cool.”
High off the way she made me feel, I tripped on something as I walked away backwards. Real slick. Veronica gave me the stink eye one last time on my way out. She could probably see through my intentions better than I could. I’d tried to convince myself I just wanted to talk to Emily, but there was a lot more I wanted to do with her. But I can’t. She was too good for me. That’s one thing I knew for sure.
I headed back to my bus as if it were some kind of punishment.
Thankfully, the girls Atticus and Ronan had invited over earlier were gone. Good riddance.
“Where the fuck were you?” Ronan asked as I walked past.
I stuck my middle finger up and continued to my bedroom in the back. I most certainly wasn’t going to admit where I’d been. Atticus and Ronan would give me so much shit.
Back in my room, I tossed off my shoes and lay down on the bed. My stomach grumbled, reminding me that I should probably eat something. But I didn’t feel like talking to anyone long enough to go back out there and dig through whatever catering had brought to the bus.
I turned to my side and placed my hands under my head. That’s when I smelled it—a flowery scent that was all too familiar. Fuck. Why did I smell like her? Emily. Then I noticed it.
Her scrunchie wrapped around my wrist.
CHAPTER 7
TRISTAN
The morning sun stung my eyes as I opened the shade on my bedroom window.
We’d rolled into Illinois overnight. We’d be playing at an arena in Chicago tomorrow evening, and I planned to spend today and tomorrow resting my voice and trying to get my head in the zone after my terrible performance in Minneapolis. There was no choice—I simply had to get it together.
Ronan burst into my room without knocking.
Why do I keep forgetting to lock that damn door?
“Hey, dude.” He plopped down on my bed. “What was up with you last night?”
My stomach sank. I wasn’t sure whether he was referring to my performance or something else. “What in particular?” I asked.
“You were all bitchy to everyone. Then you kicked those girls out of your room and left the bus. Don’t think I don’t have my eyes on you.”
“Pretty amazing that you were tracking my whereabouts while you had a girl face down on your lap. You’re multitalented.”
“Ambi-DICK-strous.” He winked. “What is that?” He looked toward my hand.
Shit. I hadn’t realized I was playing with Emily’s scrunchie again. I’d slept with it around my wrist. “None of your business is what it is…”