She won’t answer my texts. Won’t take my calls. It’s probably all my fault.
What I don’t know is what I did to get myself on her do not answer list.
Hit me up, girl. Or just hit me.
I can take it, whatever you have to say. Anything you wanna throw my way.
Whether it’s a call you back soon or right hook. Give me what you got.
More lyrics courtesy of Dallas.
At least he’s writing, I guess.
I set my phone down and rub my temples for a few minutes.
I’m not avoiding him. That would be childish. I’m just avoiding . . . it. This thing between us that I can’t explain or contain.
My travel-lagged brain is too tired to compute a response.
I’ll text him after work.
I will.
Or maybe after I get home and take a nap.
I just have to figure out what in the world I’m going to say.
Thanks for the hot sex but I don’t think we should make it a habit seems kind of harsh.
I’m ignoring you because I don’t want to lose my job for sleeping with you doesn’t really work, either.
Should I just book one room for us to share from now on? is what actually comes to mind.
No. It was a fling. A temporary rekindling of a flame that has long since burned out and nothing more. Because that’s all it can be.
A drink with Katie is suddenly sounding a whole lot more appealing. And necessary.
17 | Dallas
“I WAS STARTING TO THINK YOU’D DROPPED OFF THE EARTH.”
“Yeah, well, some days that would be an improvement.”
“You all right, Garrison? The man gettin’ you down?”
Gavin huffs out a breath and then I hear him tell someone in the background to hang on a fucking minute. Okay then. Clearly he isn’t hanging out with my sister at the moment. Or he has a death wish.
“I’m fine. Working at the Tavern. Still trying to get shit handled with my probation officer. I can’t really talk right now. But hit me up later. We’ll grab a drink when you’re in town.”
“It’ll be almost two months before the tour hits Texas. Quick question.”
“Shoot.”
“Robyn works for the tour sponsor. I saw her. I’ll be seeing a lot of her actually.”
“No shit?”
“No shit,” I confirm.
Gavin laughs. “And you’re asking me for advice about Robyn? I know as much about relationships as I do—”
“No. That’s not what I’m asking about.” Though a part of me does wonder if he could give me some insight into why she blew me off after our night together, I know it’s best if I appreciate it for what it was and let it go. I’m partially relieved she never responded to my texts because the last thing I need to be on this tour is distracted. I’m partially pissed-off, too, but I’m ignoring that part of me.
“You’re losing me.”
I huff out a breath while doing a quick check of the bus to make sure it’s empty. “That’s not the issue exactly. The problem is I’m also running into some of my former . . .” I don’t know what to call them without being disrespectful.
“Questionable choices?”
“Yeah.”
Gavin chuckles low into the phone. “I bet, Big Timer. Probably coming at you by the truckload these days.”
“If it was funny I’d be laughing. I’m serious here. I don’t want to be known as the manwhore of country music.”
“I don’t mean to be dick, D. But really, what did you expect? This is the reason half the guys we know play music.”
“That include you, Garrison?” Dude who swears he loves my sister but has yet to tell me if he’s seen her.
“Nah. For me it’s about channeling aggression so I don’t walk around beating the fuck out of people on a daily basis. But for most guys, it’s about *. Period.”
“Well, I’m not most guys.” Why do I have to keep reminding people of this? Do I have “Johnny Guitar Player” tattooed on my fucking forehead?
“Right. So what’s the question exactly?”