She sees me as a threat. I just want her to leave Lucas alone.
I don’t realize that I’m no longer by myself until I hear a male clearing his throat slowly. I open my eyes, expecting to find Sinjin or even Lucas, but Wyatt’s tanned face is grinning down at me.
Seeing that he has my attention, he leans his tall, lean body back against the counter in the tiny kitchen behind him. “You all right?”
I rake my hand through my hair and lift my shoulders. “Decent. You over here to see Sinjin?”
“What can I say? I was good with one bus, but Lucas likes his space. Sin around?”
I jab my index finger to the other end of the bus. “He’s on a call right now.”
“Ah, I see.” Instead of taking Sin’s unavailability as his cue to leave, Wyatt pulls a packet of cigarettes from his back pocket. He shakes one free but then pauses and gives me a questioning look. “You—”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t mind.” His shoulders sag in relief, and as he cups his hand over the cigarette and his New Orleans Saints lighter, my thoughts go to Kylie. “I’m guessing you can’t wait until the New Orleans show.”
He shakes his head briskly and mumbles an “Mmm hmm.”
“Do you think she’ll come around and change her mind?” After tonight’s show, there will be a little less than 40 days left in the tour, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit how ecstatic I would be if Kylie was around.
Wyatt blows out a long breath and rolls his midnight blue eyes up toward the recessed lighting in the roof of the bus. “I sure as fuck hope so. It’s . . . hard.” He offers me a strained smile that I try to return. All I can think of is the little bit of Kylie and Wyatt’s history that I know about.
“Right.”
Bending forward, he crushes the remains of his cigarette in Sinjin’s ashtray and shoots me a sheepish look. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“And I swear it’s not about the assistant at that recording studio back in February,” I say sweetly. He grabs his chest as if he’s wounded, and I narrow my eyes.
“I didn’t fuck her.” Releasing his chest, he rubs the palm of his hand over the top of his forehead, messing his short dirty blonde hair with his tattooed fingers. “What I let her do wasn’t right, especially since it was fueled by me being pissed at Ky for not coming to Nashville, but I didn’t fuck her.”
“You don’t have to explain to me.”
“’Course I do.”
A few feet away from us, Sinjin groans loudly about how sentimental stuff turns his stomach, and Wyatt and I both turn toward him. He’s shed a layer of clothes—now he’s only wearing plaid boxers—and I twist my lips to the side to hold back any type of reaction. Though he’s looking at Wyatt, his words are aimed at me. “Fuck you, Sienna, it’s not even what you think it is.”
I slide my butt across the leather dinette seat and stand. “I wasn’t going to say a damn word.”
Sinjin laughs—one of those rare, genuine ones that seem strange coming from him—as I maneuver past Wyatt and stumble off the bus. Early August sunlight beams against my face, hot and blinding. I consider going back in to find my sunglasses, but then I decide against it. For starters, I don’t want to interrupt their conversation. And secondly, I don’t necessarily want to hear whatever that conversation may be.
Easing down on the bottom bus step, I pull my phone out of my pocket and call Gram. I haven’t spoken to her since Wednesday, and even though I’ll be seeing her at the end of next week when I fly back home for a job I have lined up, I’ve missed her.
When I don’t reach her at home, I try her cell number. She picks up after a few rings, and I can hear the pleasure in her voice. It’s impossible for me not to smile, too. “We were just talking about you this morning! Are you having a good time?”
Since I assume “we” refers to her and my brother, I say, “It’s really different.”
“Not the bad type of different?”
“No, no, it’s good,” I reassure her. “Of course, by the time I get used to it all, the tour will be over.”
“Have you been working much?”
Holding my phone between my ear and the crook of my neck, I rub my palms down the front of my shorts. So far, working as Lucas’s wardrobe consultant has consisted of very little consulting and limited wardrobe. Literally. No doubt Gram’s already aware of that. “Not as much as I would at home.” Because that’s a safe answer, right?
“Well, I can’t wait to have you back here.”
“It’ll only be for a few days.” Most of which will be spent helping out on the set of a new Nashville-based reality show. Better to prepare her for not seeing me around much now, so she’s not disappointed next week. “There’s a lot of work to be done while I’m home.”
She pulls in a breath to speak, but she’s cut off by what sounds like a man telling her something in a soft, clipped voice. “Sienna, honey, I’m going to have to call you back. I’ve got an appointment that—”
Since she’s been my biggest supporter for as long as I can remember, shielding Seth and me from whatever bullshit my mother threw our way, I’ve always been protective of my grandmother. Hearing the word “appointment” instantly makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. “Is everything alright? You’re not sick, are you?”
“Calm down.” She releases a shaky laugh. “I’ve got an appointment with a lawyer.”
And without having to ask, I know this has something to do with Mom. I bring my hand back up to my phone and grip it with all my might. “I hope she’s not asking you to spend your money on hiring someone for her.”
“It’s just a consultation. I can promise you that I haven’t spent a penny.”
“Sorry, I just . . .”
When she interrupts me, her voice is soothing. “I know, and I love you so much for who you are. I’ll call you when I get home, alright?”
I find myself nodding; despite the fact that the only people nearby are a couple of roadies walking past who are in a heated debate about bass guitars.
“I love you, too,” I whisper.
After she hangs up, I sit my phone in my lap and stare down at the beach-inspired wallpaper until the screen goes black. There’s a part of me that’s dying to know why my mom has Gram going to an attorney but the other part—that’s completely wary of any of any of Mom’s motives—trumps that. She’s caused so much heartbreak, so much stress, for my grandmother that I can barely think of her without feeling a bitter twist in the pit of my belly.
I start to head back inside the bus but then I see Lucas and Cal coming off the one parked on the other side of the venue’s back lot. Lucas’s hazel eyes lock with mine and his lips lift slightly. Though he’s deep in conversation with Cal, he motions me to him. Pushing myself to my feet, I slip my phone back into my pocket and head over to them.
Cal turns his Monster can up to his lips, and when he lowers it, his dark eyes are dancing with laughter. “Sinjin scare you away?”
Moving my head from side to side, I stop beside of Lucas. Without looking at me, he works his arm around my waist, pulling me to his side. Like always, his touch is magnetic, and I melt against him, not caring that it’s as hot as the depths of Hades in Houston right now. “I can handle Sinjin. Even if he is pants-less right now.”
“Sounds about right.” Cal offers me a flash of his straight white teeth. “I think this means she’s inviting herself over to our bus.”
“Over my dead fucking body.” Lucas grins down at me, looking more relaxed than I’ve seen him in a few days. “Sinjin is tame compared to Cal.”