Girl in Love (15 page)

And she still couldn’t have him.

T
HE SHOW
in Columbus had gone well. Lots of college kids had shown up and the crowd had been amazing. She’d successfully avoided Trace since the incident at the diner. They’d sung
The Other Side of Me
together without so much as making eye contact. So not a total success as far as performances went, but she’d done the best she could.

As the bus drove past the local campus, Kylie wondered briefly what her life might have been like if she’d have gone to college. Not that she ever could’ve afforded it. But it was fun to think about what it might be like if she got to pick a major or take a class on human sexuality just for the heck of it. Or art history, or film studies. It sounded kind of exciting to her.

The only frat party she’d even been to had resulted in Trace punching Steven and carrying her out over his shoulder just before she vomited all over the place.

Maybe college wasn’t for her.

As much as she often wondered what it would be like to have a life apart from touring and music and recording, she knew she wouldn’t really have it any other way. This was her dream come true. But it was a funny thing about dreams.

Without someone you loved to share them with, to be proud of you, happy for you, cheering you on, achieving them felt kind of empty.

Mia often criticized her for working too hard, but she stayed busy for a reason. It was easier that way. Easier to keep at it than to sit home by her lonesome and wish for things she’d never have.

Days when things had gone terribly in the studio, or God, that time her earpiece had malfunctioned and shot feedback through her ear and she’d screwed up on the National Anthem at a hockey game, it would’ve been really nice to have had someone to come home to. Someone to wrap her in his arms and tell her it would be okay. That these things happened and that she’d get past it.

As it was, she ended days like those alone, drinking wine from a box, fighting tears so she could see to scrawl out lyrics to songs she knew she’d never sing.

Which was pretty much what she was doing on the ride to Detroit. She leaned her head against the window when they stopped for fuel.

“Knock, knock,” she heard Steven’s voice say through the door to her room.

“It’s open,” she answered, scrubbing away residual tears and pasting a wide smile on her face.

“So I heard a rumor,” he began, stepping into her room and lowering himself onto the chair across from her bed.

“Just one?” Kylie put her pen down and let it roll off her notebook.

He grinned at her. “Well, just one that concerns me.”

“Ah. Are you pregnant?”

“Not that I know of. But I could’ve sworn you said your guitar player asked for time off. According to the other guys in the band, he’s not the type to do such a thing.” Kylie didn’t respond right away so Steven continued. “Which leads me to wonder, why exactly did you ask me to come along on this tour, Ryans?”

“Aiden’s wife just had twins. You were looking for work. It seemed like the best solution for everyone,” she said quietly.

“Uh huh. For everyone? Or for you?”

She took a deep breath and met his gaze. “If you don’t want to be here, Blythe, I can call Aiden and tell him he’s flying to Detroit to meet us. You’re not on contract. Feel free to leave at any time.”

Steven gave her a sad smile. She wasn’t sure, but his expression reminded her of the one people wore when they found out her daddy had died. Or that Trace had dumped her for Gretchen Gibson. The pity grin. She hated it. More than anything.

“I wasn’t saying I wanted to bail on you, Ryans. Relax. I just don’t like being lied to and I don’t want to look like an idiot out here. Or a charity case. If I’m here because you needed a guitar player, then okay. If I’m here because you needed a buffer between you and Corbin, then that’s okay too. But if I’m here because you felt sorry for me or something, then I wish I would’ve turned you down. I just want you to be straight with me. I don’t feel like that’s too much to ask.”

Kylie sighed. “No, it’s not. I’m sorry I wasn’t completely upfront with you.” She glanced down at the lyrics she’d written. It was a song she’d started the day Trace had walked away from her. She didn’t know why she felt the need to finish it, but she did.

“You know you don’t have to hide stuff from me, right?” Steven asked, angling his face beneath hers so she had to look at him. “If you’re not okay, you could tell me.

“Yeah, I know. And I promise I’m fine.” She felt like she was constantly reassuring everyone of this lately. “The truth is…” She paused to gather as much courage as she possibly could. She could tell him, she knew he would understand or at least try to. She was just worried it would sound stupid out loud. So she edited it a bit. “The truth is you’re here because I needed a friend.” His expressions softened and she shrugged. “I mean, Lulu is great and I love her. She’s been my best friend forever. But sometimes I just want to hang out with someone who doesn’t know everything about me, you know? And someone who gets this business, this lifestyle. Like you.”

“I get it, I do. And honestly, your band could use some eye candy for the ladies, if you know what I’m saying.”

“If only you weren’t so modest.” She laughed as Steven leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. At the exact same moment that his lips met her skin, she heard someone clear his throat.

“Sorry. There was a fresh market stand at the last stop so I, uh, got you these because I noticed there weren’t any on the bus. I’ll put them in the kitchen.”

Kylie watched Trace take the bananas he held out of her room. She opened her mouth to thank him but he was gone before she got the words out. She shot Steven a helpless look and he shook his head.

“You’re right. You do need a friend,” he said as she leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m just not sure I’m the one you need.”

“Y
OU STRAIGHT?”

Trace raised his eyes to meet the ones of his bass player. “Yeah, man. I’m good.”

“Thinking about drinking?”

He raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth to lie. But he saw the truth in Mike’s eyes. “Yeah. Little bit.”

“Call your sponsor, Tray. Call him now. Tell him what’s going on. Or call Dr. Reynolds and tell him to meet up with us. Don’t wait until it’s too late.”

He grimaced. Damn. He’d promised himself he could do this. He’d been so strong for so long, but seeing another man kiss her, even on the fucking forehead, hurt in a way he didn’t know how to heal.

So he’d been sitting backstage at her soundcheck in Detroit letting her thick voice wash over him, tearing into all those old wounds. Which was where Mike had found him looking like a kicked puppy.

Through the break in the curtain he could see her—well the back of her. A shot of bourbon sounded good about then. An entire bottle of it sounded even better. But there wasn’t a brand of liquor in the world that would douse the pain having a girl like Kylie Ryans and losing her caused.

So he took a sip from his bottle of water and listened to her voice echoing in an empty stadium.

You might wake up with a smile on your face, but you’ll reach out to find an empty space. I don’t do waking up in your arms, won’t be impressed by your smile or your charm. I’ll set your night on fire. I’m a live wire. I’m a live wire.

She shimmied over toward her guitar player and rubbed her body against his as he performed his solo. Trace forced himself to look away.

“You know,” Mike began quietly, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you back down like this. You were always a take-what-you-want kind of guy. I admired that about you.”

Trace leaned back in his chair. “It’s more complicated than that.”

“Is it? Or are you just too scared to throw your hat in the ring because you’re afraid she won’t pick you?”

“You suck at minding your own business, you know that?”

Mike chuckled. “Yeah I know. Hey, you remember that time she hustled us all in poker?”

Trace grinned at the memory. Kylie had played the guys in his band and taken them for all they were worth when they were on tour together. None of them had complained much since she’d done a sexy little victory dance afterwards. “She didn’t hustle me, Brennen. I wasn’t playing.”

“Right,” Mike agreed. “And once again, she’s holding all the cards and you’re sitting out on the sidelines. Why is that you think?”

Before he could answer, his manager appeared.

“Okay, thanks for letting me know,” Pauly Garrett said into the phone before disconnecting the call.

“Everything okay?” Trace looked up at the man who was shaking his head.

“Nothing for you to worry about.”

“Well that’s a sure sign it probably is something for me to worry about.”

Pauly’s expression tensed. “You just focus on your show. Let’s try and see if you and Kylie can manage to look more like human beings and less like robots during your duet, shall we?”

Trace shrugged. “Maybe you should discuss that with her.” If she wanted to rub herself against her guitarist like a cat in heat and then pretend he didn’t exist when they were singing together, that was her issue. Not much he could do about it.

“Maybe I will,” Pauly said as she came off the stage and toward them.

Trace didn’t miss the way Blythe whispered in her ear or placed his hand on the small of her back. He felt his anger rising to a dangerous level.

So this was jealousy. He wasn’t a fan of it. And it was owning his ass at the moment.

A slap on his shoulder snapped him out of his trance.

“Doesn’t look all that complicated to me,” Mike said with a smirk as he stood.

“Kylie, can I have a minute?” Pauly asked, pulling her aside as she passed.

Trace didn’t listen to what was said as he made his way to his own soundcheck. But the fact that Pauly had distracted her from Steven kept a smile on his face through rehearsal.

T
HE CROWD
screamed his name as he wrapped up his show. It felt good. Damn good. Trace handed off his guitar in preparation for his final song before his duet with Kylie.

He wasn’t sure what Pauly had said to her earlier and he hadn’t seen her since. Her show had gone well as far as he knew. He’d missed it because he’d been warming up for his own performance and taking pictures with some fans. He hoped whatever his manager had said had gotten through to her and that she would at least look at him when they sang together tonight.

The two girls who had been hired to dance on the “tailgate” the stage had been made into during
Rock It On My Tailgate
were conspicuously absent as he sang the opening lyrics. Alexis and Camilla were twenty-two-year-old twins and professional dancers. Mike had taken to calling them the Tailgate Twins.

He hit the first chorus and the audience went wild. Even wilder than usual. That was unexpected. Everyone in the first few rows held up camera phones and people were shouting and pointing behind him. He turned as he sang but the sight behind him nearly stopped his ability to breathe, much less sing.

It wasn’t the Tailgate Twins rocking it on the tailgate behind him. It was Kylie Ryans.

Seeing her up there with a tiny shirt that left little to the imagination and a jean skirt that barely covered her perfect ass nearly killed him. Right in front of a live audience.

He shook his head and grinned when she pulled a microphone from God knows where and began singing his song along with him.

With the regular dancers, he was supposed to jump up on the tailgate and let them grind all over him. But he had no clue if that would be the plan now.

He knew his voice was probably shaking as he hopped up on the tailgate to stand next to her. He kept his eyes on her to see if she’d give him any clue as to what the hell was going on. And also, because she looked really fucking good up there.

Her sweet voice took over, and he decided to switch places with her. She could sing and he’d do the ass shaking.

She smiled when she realized what he was doing and he smiled back.

It felt like he could breathe, really breathe, for the first time since he’d walked out on her at The Rum Room over a year ago.

After they finished his song, they sat on the tailgate and sang their duet.

Looking into her eyes as they sang the lyrics they’d written together did something to him he couldn’t explain. Or understand. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to understand.

But one thing was for sure. Mike was right. He’d never been one to back down or walk away from what he wanted. And what he wanted was her.

So when the song ended and the stage lights began to dim, he placed his mouth on hers to the sound of thousands of screaming fans.