The Opposite Of Right (Bad Decisions Trilogy #1) (11 page)

Cam braced his hands on the table. Leaned forward, so he could keep his voice low and intense. “I thought you were adventurous. I thought you were taking charge of your life. Now, when you have the chance to make a real decision, instead of just reacting to what’s thrown in your lap, you want to play it safe?”

“What am I supposed to do? Work in a mall or a coffeehouse while I try to figure out a whole new path? While I try to make contacts and break into a field with a degree most people need explained to them? My parents didn’t pay for four years at Northwestern for me to be a glorified cashier.”

Why was Kylie ignoring the obvious? God. It felt like women always talked a thing to death instead of just doing something. “You can stay on the bus.”

That netted him an eye roll. “Right. Because that’s going
soooo
well right now.”

“Isn’t it?” Cam didn’t understand. They were having a great time. So great, in fact, that he’d been minutes away from asking her to be his girlfriend. Or whatever the more grown-up equivalent might be. He didn’t want the freedom to bang every hot fan who came on to him. Cam wanted Kylie. Only Kylie. And he’d thought she was on the same page.

“Cam, my presence is pulling Riptide apart at the seams. You and Jake aren’t talking. I’ve at least got a function in the group now. If I hung around once Deondra rejoined you guys, I’d just be a groupie. One with bunk-sharing privileges with the lead singer. How would that look to everyone?” Kylie scraped her hands down her cheeks. “Talk about a bad decision.”

Now he got it. “That’s all this is? I’m one of your bad decisions?”

Kylie looked down at the table. “Technically, yes.”

He stood up so fast his chair toppled to the concrete. “A way to burn off a little post-graduation steam before getting on with your real life? Glad to help you check off the boxes for
adventurous sex
and
sleep with a celebrity
. Guess you’re all done now. Done with me.”

Kylie stared out at the flat farmland zipping past the window. The interstate to Fargo, North Dakota, wouldn’t normally be exciting enough to hold her interest. But right now? It was far preferable to making eye contact with anyone else on the bus. Jake thought she was a slut. Tony blamed her for causing the fight between Jake and Cam. Jones was miffed she’d slept with Cam and not him, on principle. And Cam…Cam actually believed that he’d been just a fling for her. That hurt most of all.

“I’ve got something for you.” Jake waved a cookie bigger than her fist in front of her face.

She kicked off her sandals to curl her feet beneath her on the recliner. Leaned her forehead against the cool glass. Wished it would chill the throbbing ache in her temples from crying all night. Kylie had chosen to ride on this bus both to avoid Cam’s injured sulking and because she knew nobody on the other one would talk to her. Why was Jake interrupting her pity party?

“I’m not hungry.”

“The cookie’s just a bribe. You don’t have to eat it now.”

“A bribe to get me to do what?”

He came around to squat in the space between her chair and the window. “Listen to my apology.”

That was…unexpected. Kylie wasn’t ready to meet his gaze, though. She lifted her eyes only far enough to stare at the tribal tattoo ringing his biceps. “I’m sort of a captive audience here, Jake.”

“Well, good. Because I know you’re mad at me. And you should be. I was a jerk. If not a full-on fucktard.”

She might be licking her own wounds, but she knew that Cam needed to hear this more. “Shouldn’t you be saying that to Cam?”

Jake’s shoulder jerked. “Yeah. And I will. I’ll let you in on a secret. Our fight wasn’t really about you.”

“No kidding,” she said dryly enough to clue him in that Cam had told her the whole sordid story. Kylie tugged down the hem of her Greek Week tank as she shifted to face Jake head on. If he was going to man up and apologize, it was the least she could do.

“We’ve got what you might call unresolved issues.”

Not quite. “Pretty sure your issues with Cam are resolved with this awesome new music you’ve created. You just haven’t decided to put them all behind you.”

A muscle in his jaw worked, and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “Maybe so. But that’s another conversation. Point being, I don’t think you’re a groupie slut.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m serious. You’re smart. Savvy about music in a way that few people are, even if they’ve been in the business for years. I’m glad you came on this tour. And I’m sorry as shit that I said those things to you. I deserved that punch that Cam threw at me. Yeah, I was angry, but there’s no excuse.”

“Apology accepted.” Kylie laid a hand on his arm. “I appreciate it.”

“So we’re good now?”

“Sure.”

“Then can I ask you something?” Jake tapped her knee. “Why’d you really come on this trip? Were you running away? Or running toward something?”

Well. That was direct. Insightful. And really, really annoying. “Don’t pretend like you’ve got a psychology degree. I know everything about you from the Riptide fan boards.”

White teeth flashed against his deep tan. “My mom’s a shrink. She had me and my sister navel-gazing before we were out of diapers.”

“I joined the tour because it was an opportunity.” Okay, it had been an escape, too. A super convenient dream come true. A chance to live a fantasy. Except now Kylie would never think of the men in this group only as larger-than-life rock stars. They were her friends now. Friends who happened to make music for a living. Friends with quirks, just like the ones she’d left behind in college. Friends who screwed up and said the wrong things.

What if that’s what happened with Cam? What if he’d misunderstood her desperate relief at the Smithsonian’s offer to be an exit strategy? What if he didn’t know how much she liked him? How head over heels she was for the tall, talented man who couldn’t hide his tender side?

They’d shared lots of sex and lots of laughs. But they’d never shared the words bubbling out of her heart. Talk about a bad decision. And this one Kylie planned to fix.

“Jake, my laptop’s on the other bus. Can I borrow yours?”

“Sure, as long as you don’t go poking around in my browser history,” he joked. “What’s so important?”

“I need to apply for a job that doesn’t exist.”

Kylie looked across the truck-stop parking lot to the road signs. Apparently they were in Fergus Falls. It was vital for her to note. Fergus Falls—hopefully—would be the start of her new life. One in which she didn’t veer from the path. One where she purposefully
chose
a path all her own.

“Are you going to tell your parents first?” Amanda’s voice was tinny in her ear.

“No. But I’ve already e-mailed the Smithsonian and declined their invitation. There’s no turning back.” Her palm was sweaty on the phone, and not just from the late afternoon heat. The knot in her stomach warred for attention with jangling nerves and a heart that seemed to be pumping twice as fast as normal.

“I’m proud of you. Scared for you, but proud. And super sad that you won’t be coming back to Chicago. I’ll miss you. Let me know what happens?”

“Of course. Um, maybe cross your fingers for me? Toes, too?”

“You bet.”

Kylie pocketed her phone. Wiped her palms on her denim shorts and climbed the steps into Cam’s bus before she started to talk herself out of this crazy—no,
bold
idea. “Kyoko, Jones, I need a little time alone with Cam. It’s a hot day. How about you go grab some slushees?” Held out a ten-dollar bill. “I’m buying.”

They filed out wordlessly, but with all four eyebrows quirked between them. Cam sat on the couch, guitar across his lap. His hair stood on end like he’d been pulling at it. Mouth downturned, he barked, “What?”

“Have you checked your e-mail?”

“No.” He went back to strumming a tune she didn’t recognize.

This wasn’t going swimmingly. But Kylie reminded herself of how Cam had ended their fight yesterday. Hurt. Thinking that she’d rather go to Washington than stay with him. When she hadn’t even realized until the fight was over that, from his perspective, the whole thing had been about their relationship rather than her job prospects. And when she tried to explain that wasn’t what she meant, he shut her out.

“Well, um, I sent you something.”

Fingers still playing over the strings, Cam said, “If it’s your two-weeks’ notice, consider it accepted.”

“Kinda the opposite, actually.” Kylie let go of her death grip on the rail at the stairs and came all the way inside. “Do you want to read it?”

“No.”

“Then I’ll give you the bullet points.” She took a deep breath. “I sent you a proposal. A description of the responsibilities, expectations and salary of Riptide’s newest team member. Me.”

“You sell swag. There. I summed up in three words what just took you fifteen.”

“Sorry. It isn’t a description of the goody girl. It’s for an internship in music business affairs. Specifically, tour production and artist management. I’ve worked up ten separate areas I can both help out and learn, from liaising between Tony and the venues, to testing the new song titles for marketability, to—”

Cam cut her off with a slash of his hand. “I told you we’re running lean and mean. Self-funding the whole thing, unless a label decides to give us a go.”

“Then I’d better make sure that happens.” Kylie tried to dazzle him with a self-confident grin. Worried that it came out as more of a nervous grimace, she rushed onward. “Same deal as now—just room and board and an hourly pittance. Three months, with an option to come on board fully as paid staff at the end of that time period. Unless you get picked up sooner, in which case I’ve lain out alternate salary terms.”

“Why?”

“Because you were right. I am taking charge of my life.” Kylie licked at dry lips. Guess she’d have to dig a little deeper to convince him. “A couple of weeks ago, all I knew was that my whole life didn’t fit anymore. It felt like wearing rented bowling shoes—ugly and the wrong size. I thought I’d find my way by doing the opposite of everything I’d been told was right.”

“Your bad-decisions kick.”

At least Cam wasn’t glaring at her any longer. Just...listening.

“Yes. Except they weren’t bad decisions. These past few weeks helped me figure out that it doesn’t matter what I’m told, or by whom. My parents can tell me I should be on one trajectory. Doesn’t make it true. Jake can call me a slut”—she held up one hand as storm clouds darkened Cam’s eyes—“for which he’s already apologized, by the way. Doesn’t make it true. Heck, you can call me bold. Still doesn’t make it true. What’s right for me is what I decide. The path, the mistakes, the jobs. As long as
I
make the choice, it’ll be the right one.”

Slowly, he put the guitar back in its case on the floor. Snicking the locks shut, Cam asked, “And you’re choosing Riptide?”

“Yes. Because I want to work with performers. Because I want to work with rock musicians, specifically. Because learning on the job with a top band is the best possible fit.”

Those long fingers that could pluck music from a string and an orgasm from her body drummed against his thighs. “I’d have to run it by the rest of the group.”

“I cc’d everyone. On one of the e-mails, anyway.”

“There was another one?”

“Yes. I sent you a report card.”

“Seriously?” A reluctant smile pulled at his lips.

“Recent college grad, remember? I’ve lived and died by report cards for, well, my whole life up to this point. I thought you deserved feedback on our time together.” Whipping her phone out of her pocket, Kylie pulled up the spreadsheet. Cautiously sat down next to him. Read the lines out loud even as she held it out for Cam to see.

Sense of humor: A

Focus: A

Satisfaction: A+

Fun: A

Understanding: A

Sexiness: A+

Cam chucked the phone to the opposite end of the couch. Dragged her onto his lap, so that Kylie straddled him. “I thought you wanted to leave me.”

“No way. I was scared you’d be too polite to tell me that you didn’t want me to stay.”

“As the lead singer of Riptide, I want you to stay. This internship idea’s solid. I’m proud of you for putting it together.”

“What if we take Riptide out of the picture for a minute? Just let me know as, um, a potential boyfriend, if you want me to stay.” Even with his erection digging into her thigh and the widest smile she’d ever seen creasing his face, Kylie held her breath, waiting for his answer.

Cam cinched her waist tight with his big hands. And absolutely beamed at her. “I want
you
, Kylie. Wherever you are. Stay or go. Either way, you won’t be able to shake me. We’re too good together.” He moved one hand to cover hers, then placed them both in the center of his chest. “You put music in my heart.”

Her own heart swelled until Kylie thought it would burst right through her rib cage. “Then let it out. Play it on me, Cam. Play it all over me.”