Follow Me Back (Follow Me Back #1)

There was no way it could be Tessa, right?

No. Definitely not. Tessa wouldn’t be standing out there all alone. She was supposed to be with her therapist. And when she did show up, she wouldn’t be on foot. She’d told him this morning that she would be riding in Dr. Regan’s silver SUV.

So where the hell were they?

The fan started moving, but she still didn’t turn to face the club. She made her way over to the far corner of the lot, and then she started walking down the side of the road.

Eric craned his neck to watch her, unsure if he should do something. It couldn’t be safe. She’d be nearly invisible to any passing cars, dressed as she was in dark clothing. Did she need some kind of help? Should he call out to her? He hesitated, watching the figure’s slow progress, until her shadow disappeared around the bend.

Not a fan after all, apparently. No gate-crashers at all tonight? Not that he was complaining. Eric jammed his hands into his pockets and kicked his foot at a loosened stone, sending it skittering across the pavement of the parking lot.

The empty parking lot…

Or mostly empty, at any rate. The handful of cars scattered before him belonged to the club’s staff, plus the rental car that Maury had driven there from Dallas. Eric’s own car didn’t occupy a space. When he arrived a few hours ago, he’d pulled around to the service entrance at the side of the building and ditched his Ferrari back there. He didn’t want to draw too much attention to its presence, just in case some aggressive fan decided to stake it out and follow him after the show.

Follow him. What a joke. There were no fans here tonight. He could’ve ditched his car on the side of the road with a big, red “For Sale” sign in the window, for all it would’ve mattered. No passersby at all, except for that one weirdo.

Eric turned his head to look in the direction she had gone. Or he had gone? Was it a man after all? Some kind of drifter, perhaps, trying to hitch a ride into town? Eric didn’t have much time to speculate. His ears perked up again, detecting the faint but unmistakable hum of a car engine.

“Here we go.” He took his hands out of his pockets and stood up tall, straightening the rabbit’s foot that hung around his neck.

Two beams of light came into view. Eric leaned forward expectantly, waiting for the SUV to emerge from the shadows, but he only saw the headlights peeping out from around the bend. He watched, holding his breath, until finally the two lights moved again. They still didn’t come closer. Instead, they seemed to swing around in a wide arc. For a moment, the white beams were replaced by the faint red flicker of taillights. And then the total darkness fell again.

That wasn’t Tessa either. Eric’s face fell with disappointment as he listened to the fading sound of the engine. That guy out there must’ve gotten a ride. Someone just picked him up and did a U-turn.

“Dammit, Tessa,” he said.

This was getting downright irritating now. Suspense was one thing, but the warm glow of anticipation had all but faded as Eric resigned himself to the truth. Nothing was going to happen. Not tonight. After all that, she wasn’t even coming. After he’d spent this whole long day imagining the moment—imagining what she would do and say, and the way her face would look.

And now here he was, standing alone in an empty parking lot, freezing his ass off.

Eric wrapped his arms around himself as another powerful gust of wind buffeted him. Maybe if he DM’ed her, he could still wheedle her address out of her. He had to try, right? Tomorrow night he had another tour stop in Santa Fe, and then Denver the night after that. Whatever happened tonight, he would have no choice but to leave town in the morning. He only had one chance to meet her. He only had tonight.

He pulled out his phone and hung his head at the sight of his Twitter home screen. No little blue flag to indicate an unread message. She hadn’t DM’ed. Twenty minutes late now, and not one word of explanation.

He flicked onto his messages and began to compose a text.


Taylor: What happened? Are you—

But he broke off in midsentence. His eyes registered the last message on the thread, and he squinted at it in confusion. Wait a minute. Not just one DM, he saw as he scrolled up. A whole back-and-forth exchange.

Which could only mean—

His brows drew together slowly as he struggled to make sense of the words: Taylor: Tessa, there’s a million other fans here. Wayyyy too crowded. Pull over and pick me up.

Tessa H: Hold on. Pulling over. Where are you?

Taylor: Look up, dummy. I’m the one with the rabbit’s foot walking toward the car.





23


OTHER FISH IN THE SEA





Eric reread the DMs, his mind spinning. Messages to Tessa. From him. But not from him. It could only mean one thing…


Username: @EricThornSucks

Password:

A coldness clenched around his chest, squeezing the breath out of his lungs. How had he not seen it coming? All this time, he’d focused on what happened to Dorian Cromwell. How many times had he looked back over his shoulder to see if someone was following him? And someone had been! Not walking down the street perhaps, but following him just the same. Some hacker stalking his Twitter from afar…

Or had he laid eyes on her before? Could it be the same one who jumped onstage in Seattle? Green eyes. Dark hair. Maybe five foot nine…The memory of her shrill voice still echoed in his mind: Wait! He knows me! I’m telling you—he follows me on Twitter! He’s followed me for years!

Delusional. Convinced of some secret relationship that only existed in her own imagination. How many times had he tried to warn his record label? He knew it was only a matter of time.

What had happened to Dorian was horrifying enough. But this…this was unimaginable. This fangirl hadn’t gone after him. She’d gone after the one he loved. She’d gone after Tessa.

And Tessa had no idea.

Eric’s hand leaped to his throat. Would Tessa go with her? Would she fall into the trap? Would Tessa think…

His mind raced back over old conversations, hopelessly jumbled inside his head.

Maybe I’ve seen Catfish too many times, she’d told him, not so long ago. Pretty much the same plot twist every time. Are you secretly a girl?

Tessa. No!

That damned pink rabbit’s foot. There were only two pink ones left on the little hook next to the gas station cash register. Eric had purchased one this morning and left the other one hanging.

He should have bought them both. Hell, he should have bought all the other colors too. Cleaned out the whole rack. He should have bought every last rabbit’s foot in the entire state of Texas. He’d just left it there, dangling on the end of the hook. And someone else had bought it. Someone else had held it out to her. And Tessa must have fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker.

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