She’s everything.
My mind races with the possibilities. I remember the pang of envy I felt at Kacen and Logan’s wedding. She could be my someone. I want her to be. There’s something about the tightening in my chest at just the thought of her that tells me this is right. Now I just have to convince her that it’s more.
My past follows me, but even she admitted that this tour is not what she expected. And it hasn’t been the usual, that’s for sure. I know my reasoning, not sure about Gavin and Tristan. I know I’m a man consumed.
She’s all I see.
Now, I just have to figure out how to prove to her that she’s not like the rest.
“Shh, leave them be,” I hear Logan scolding my bandmates.
We fell asleep again and once again are busted. I slow smile pulls at my lips.
“That fucker’s awake,” Tristan whines.
I open my eyes to find the four of them standing over us. Bringing my index finger to my lips, I reiterate what Logan was saying, telling them to be quiet. Kacen is grinning like a fool, Tristan looks confused, and Gavin’s phone has his attention.
“You got her?” Kacen asks.
I wrap my arm back around her and meet his stare. No words are exchanged, but he knows. He’s been there—hell, he is there. I know he can see it. I’m not leaving this fucking couch as long as she’s in my arms.
He nods, and then, reaching over, he turns the light over the table off and heads back toward the bedroom. Tristan and Gavin follow blindly, like they don’t understand what’s happening.
They’ve never seen me like this, but they’re smart guys. They have to know what this means.
Closing my eyes, I listen as they all get settled in for the night. After a few minutes of silence, I shift so Stacy is lying on top of me. My arm is asleep.
She moves to find a comfortable position, her eyes never opening. I hold her close and allow my own eyes to close.
It takes hours for sleep to claim me again; I don’t want to miss a minute of this. I want this girl like nothing ever before, and I don’t know that I can convince her of that. I will put everything I am into showing her she’s more.
Until then, while she’s sleeping, I’ll bask in the fact that she’s where she is. Next to me, her head resting on my heart. My arms holding her close.
It feels like a dream, having her with me like this. It’s new, and already I’m addicted. She’s my drug of choice.
“Spill.” My best friend is standing in front of the small table on the bus, hands on her hips, small baby bump front and center, giving me the look. You know, the one that says, “Do not deny your pregnant hormonal best friend or there will be hell to pay.”
It’s been two weeks since I woke up wrapped around Cole on the couch here on the bus. Two weeks of non-stop running and organizing for the tour. That stretch of fourteen days, they played seven of them. It was constant, exhausting and life-saving all at once, since I was able to avoid Logan and her questioning. Any time she would start to ask, one of the guys would interrupt us, one of our phones would ring, or we were backstage.
Until now.
Finally, we get a break that is more than one day off in a stretch. We get four. Four entire days to do with as we wish. Sure, Logan and I will have a few things to take care of here and there—confirming security, location clearance, things like that. But between the two of us, we can knock that out in no time.
“There’s not really anything to spill,” I tell her honestly. I’m just as confused as she is.
“I call bullshit. He’s always touching you, and you two spend all your spare time together. What gives?” She slides into the table across from me.
“Honestly, I don’t know what’s going on. For months he pursued me, told me how great we would be together. The last few weeks, he’s been different. I barely get a sexual innuendo from him, and if I do, it’s backed up with something that only sweet Cole would say and I’m all mushy inside. Too mushy to care that he propositioned me for sex.”
“Sweet Cole?” She grins.
“Yes! The man, I swear, it’s like he has a microphone that goes straight to my heart. Some of the things he says. . . .”
“Like?” she prompts.
I don’t want to reveal too much—not because I don’t trust her, but I don’t know what it all means. Hell, it could all be in my head. She knows him pretty well, though, so it could be nice to get her opinion. Decision made, I give her an example. “Okay, that night we fell asleep.” I point over my shoulder to the couch, and she nods. “He said that lying like that was nice. Then he told me I was his favorite.” It was more than that, the way he said it. I might have been half asleep, but it didn’t make the effect on me any less profound.
“I literally melted into him,” I confess.
“He’s into you.”
That’s it? He’s into me? “I kinda already know that, but what does the rest of it mean?”
“He’s never been in a relationship.”