Girl in Love (24 page)

Before he could tell her how much he would appreciate that, she rushed on.

“I mean, it’s none of my business, and I know it’s not my place, but—”

“That would be pretty great actually. I’d owe you one.”

“No you wouldn’t. I care about Rae, too,” she said, her gaze drifting over to where the girl was laughing among her friends. One of them was an extremely tan bottle-blonde who was eye-fucking him pretty blatantly.

Seeing Kylie narrow her eyes at the girl almost made him smile. His eyes dropped to her mouth and he remembered kissing her on stage a few weeks ago. And how pissed she’d gotten. His plan was beginning to look like a terrible idea. He decided to give her at least a little warning.

“Hey, Kylie Lou?”

“Hm?” She glanced up at him, seemingly lost in thought.

“I want to change up our finale a little. Sing a different song, a new one of mine—if that’s okay with you.”

She sucked on her lower lip for a second and his own mouth ached to do the same. “You don’t want to sing
The Other Side of Me
? But this is the
The Other Side of Me
tour…” Her expression said that she was concerned for his mental well-being. That made two of them.

“Just come out like normal, okay? I promise not to do anything inappropriate.”

She arched a brow and leaned slightly closer to him. “I thought you didn’t make promises you couldn’t keep?” Her face reddened.

He suspected she hadn’t meant to say that out loud. The grin on his face was impossible to contain. She was already slipping. He could almost see his girl underneath all that protective body armor.

“Well, I promise not to kiss you again. Unless you tell me to.”

She scoffed. “Trace.”

He stepped back when the stagehands came to retrieve her.

“Have a good show, pretty girl,” he said under his breath.

The small smile she tossed him over her shoulder as she was pulled away told him she’d heard.

“H
OW YOU
doin’, Atlanta?” Kylie shouted in her mic after her first few songs.

A stagehand brought out her guitar and she grinned at the screams that greeted her as she strapped it on.

“Hey, y’all. These damn stilettos are killing me.” She kicked off her heels and began playing
Not A Nice Girl.
Then she launched immediately into
Live Wire.

The crowd was insane. It was one of the biggest she’d ever played for, and it seemed as if every single person in the audience sang along with her songs.

She forced her mind to stay in the present and give them the best show she could. But as she danced around and sang her ass off, the knowledge that Darla’s book was waiting for her on the bus, Rae was very likely developing a drinking problem, and her traitorous heart was inching closer to the surface every time she came within five feet of Trace Corbin assaulted her repeatedly.

And her stomach was in knots about whatever he was planning for the finale.

When she finished her set, Steven followed her offstage. “You could’ve told me she was coming,” he said low in her ear.

She met his eyes with an apology in hers. “I didn’t know, Steven. I swear.”

They stepped aside as the crew switched her equipment out for Trace’s.

“It’s not a big deal or anything.” He crossed his heavily inked arms and glanced around. “Wonder if she brought lover boy along.”

“I have no idea.” She leaned even closer to him in case Mia was nearby. “Listen, why don’t you just talk to her?”

“Or I could have you pretend to be my girlfriend so I don’t have to face her. We could pretend to be madly in love, because that’d be the adult way to handle it.” He smirked at her. “How’s that sound to you?”

“I’m starting to grasp what an idiot I am, okay?” She shook her head. “Learn from my mistakes. Man up and tell her how you feel.”

“It’s not like I want to propose to her. Jesus, Ryans.”

She smacked him playfully on the shoulder. “I know that, smartass.” She spotted Mia standing by Lily and Trace’s little sister. “Go,” she told him with a shove.

“All right, I’m going. Wish me luck.”

She shot him a quick thumbs up. Once he was out of sight, several fans stopped her for autographs and photos. She posed and smiled and signed for several minutes. It was fun and took her mind off all the other craziness for a while. Until a security team member came and informed her that it was time for the finale.

Her stomach pitched forward before she took a single step. Taking several deep breaths, she did her best to steel herself for whatever was coming.

Once she was on stage, an eruption of cheers nearly deafened her.

Her eyes met Trace’s. He looked as nervous as she felt.

Oh God.

A sinking feeling hit her so hard her legs began to tremble as he helped her sit up on the tailgate on his stage.

She could practically see Noel Davies rubbing his greedy little hands together. If Trace was going to propose to her as some type of media stunt for the label, she was going to vomit on him in front of all these people. And then she was going to tell him to go fuck himself. Surely he knew how hurtful something like that would be.

“What are you doing?” she mouthed silently at him.

He just winked at her. And then he turned to the crowd.

“So, normally we close the show with a song we wrote together. You might’ve heard of it,” Trace said into his mic.

The cheers and whistles rang out for several minutes.

“But I’m a Georgia boy,” he began before he was interrupted by another eruption of screaming and cheering. “So I wanted to sing a new one for y’all if that’s okay.”

When he turned back to her, his entire face was lit up. He looked so different than he’d been looking lately. Young and carefree. Excited.

For a second, she didn’t care if it was just a publicity stunt. She was glad to be a part of something that made him so happy.

Until he started singing.

It wasn’t just the fact that he was literally serenading her in front of thousands of people that shook her to her core. It was the words. Each one of them sliced into her like shards of glass reopening old scars.

There’s a girl from Oklahoma that I can’t get out of my head. Can’t seem to get her back in my arms so I put her in a song instead.

She stared at him as the shock of it all seeped in.
What. The. Fuck.

Something was seriously wrong with him. He was clearly missing a vital chip in his brain that alerted him to situations that would cause severe pain to others.

She’s wild like the prairie wind that blows fast across the plains. She’s sweet like the mornin’ sun risin’ slow after a night of rain. And I did everything I could do to push her away.

Kylie fought the stinging pinch of tears and forced her mouth not to turn down. She couldn’t figure out why he would do this. She shook her head, silently begging him to please stop this, even though she knew he couldn’t. Or wouldn’t. But he was too busy singing to notice.

But if ever there was someone ever made for someone, that girl was made for me.

She did her best to block his words out, and when that didn’t work, she tried to pretend she was a random fan and he’d pulled her onto the stage. She told her brain that this song wasn’t about her. That there was no way a man she’d once loved with all her heart would be capable of such malicious torture and public humiliation.

They say I have a wild streak, a fire burning in me. A fightin’ side, too much damn pride. None of them could tame me. Boy they’ve damn sure tried.

She’s water to my fire, a lover to my fighter, and she cuts me down to size. There’s not another one like her. Man I gotta find her. ’Cause if ever there was someone ever made for someone, that girl was made for me.

She refused to meet his eyes as he finished his song. The ringing in her ears was finally drowning him out.

But she did look at the audience, and they were enthralled. Trace might’ve been a heartless bastard, but he was one hell of a performer. She sucked in a deep breath and slammed those cold steel walls over her wounded heart.

“Kiss me,” she told him when the song ended.

“What?” Now it was his turn to be shocked.

She nodded toward the crowd full of screaming fans. “Kiss me. That’s what they want, right? That’s all you care about—giving them a good show. So do it.”

He flinched back like she’d slapped him.

She hadn’t, but a part of her desperately wanted to. Hurt flashed in his eyes as if he could read her mind.

He didn’t kiss her, so she crushed her mouth to his.

Damn him to hell. Her anger and hurt poured out against his mouth. She bit down on his bottom lip hard enough to cause pain. She hoped it hurt.

Once the lights went out she jerked out of his arms. She knew his mic could possibly still be on so she didn’t say a word. She just stalked away from him without looking back.

T
RACE BROUGHT
his fingers to his mouth to check for blood. He didn’t see any on his hand but he could taste a faint hint of it on his tongue.

He’d put his heart out there in front of thousands of people and she’d stormed off. The tears in her eyes had confused the hell out of him.

At first he’d thought maybe they’d been tears of joy. But the harder she’d fought them, the more they’d looked like tears of pain. And her teeth sinking into his lip indicated they might’ve been tears of anger. Or rage.

Every single person in Encore Park seemed determined to get in his fucking way as he tried to find her backstage.

People congratulated him, some clapped him on the back, a few asked for pictures with him, but he just kept plowing through the crowd.

He caught Claire Ann’s elbow and told her he’d see her and Rae at the house in an hour or two. She nodded with a sympathetic expression, so he figured she’d seen Kylie bolt after his grand gesture.

She’d misunderstood. That had to be it. Maybe she thought he was just putting on a show and didn’t realize he was putting his heart out there for the whole world to see. He knew she still felt something for him.

He knew because he’d seen it in her eyes, in her smile. Without even consciously meaning to, he’d begun to study her—paying close attention to each small movement, each laugh. He didn’t miss the little things anymore, like the way she angled her body toward him when he came near and then forced herself to turn away. He would earn a damn degree in Kylie Ryans before this tour was over.

He caught a glimpse of her hair and gleaming dress over by the bus. He was just about to break into a run when he saw something that stopped him where he stood.

Steven Blythe was leaning up next to a magnolia tree and he had Mia Montgomery in his arms. Their mouths were damn near touching. They weren’t kissing, but it clearly wasn’t innocent either.

His blood felt like it had caught fire in his veins.

This motherfucker was really starting to piss him off. And if Kylie was going to choose her bullshit charade of a relationship with this dick over him, then he was at least going to confront the cheating bastard. With his fists.

He stalked over to where they stood and whirled Steven around by his shoulder. “Do you even give a damn about her at all, man? I mean, just how many women are you screwing behind her back?”

“Back off, Corbin,” Steven warned. “We’ve been through this. You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“Well, by my count, there’s the Tailgate Twin and now Mia. You planning on nailing her assistant next?”

“What’s he talking about, Steven? A Tailgate Twin?” Mia asked from behind him.

“Nothing, Mia. He’s just—”

Before Steven could finish, Trace’s fist shot out and struck him in the mouth.

Steven took a swing in return, but Trace ducked and wrapped him around the waist—driving his body back against the tree trunk.

Steven shoved him backwards. “Dammit, man. I warned you not to fucking hit me again.” He swung hard and connected with Trace’s right cheekbone. The two of them surged forward at the same time and wrestled in the dirt until two members of the security team broke it up.