“That’s more than one question,” I note quietly.
“Same general idea.” He pauses to shake his head. “Basically around here I’m the jerk-off that broke up a beloved local band to go be a fame whore. So to answer your question, no, I’m not all that thrilled to be home.”
“They don’t know the whole story.” I don’t even think I know the whole story, for that matter.
“No, but that’s why they make assumptions and ask. It was like being pinned into a corner all fucking day. What was I supposed to tell them? Dixie was grieving and the label is run by a sexist asshole she didn’t have the energy or the desire to try and persuade? Oh, and Gavin didn’t particularly want to spend the next three to five years in jail for breaking his probation? I mean, what the hell, you know?”
“I don’t really know,” I say soothingly. “But I can imagine. And I’m sorry. I wish I could’ve been there for you.” I step closer to him, hoping to absorb some of the frustration rolling off him and ease his anguish
“Yeah?” He looks down at me with a lifted brow. The heat warming in his gaze tells me I was relatively successful. “Well, you’re here now.” He reaches for the belt to my robe and I let him tug it off. The sides fall open, revealing my naked body.
“That I am. And so are you.”
“So now that we’re both here,” he says, giving me a sexy grin that has trouble written all over it. “What should we do with ourselves?”
“Bath first,” I tell him. “Because I’ve already run the water and I like it hot.”
“I like it hot, too,” he says, pushing my robe to the floor.
27 | Dallas
STRANGELY ENOUGH, ROBYN AND I DON’T HAVE SEX IN HER BATHTUB. We talk. And we take turns washing each other’s backs, and though my dick remains mostly hard, it’s the most relaxed I’ve felt since the tour started.
Lying on my stomach on her bed watching her slather her entire body in sweet-smelling lotion, I feel like I’m being let in on some secret female ritual. All I did was dry off with one of her fluffy expensive towels. But she had a strategic five-point process to execute after our bath. After the lotion, there’s deodorant, then some type of cream for face and another kind for her hair, which she combs through with her fingers before slipping her robe back on.
When she climbs onto my back and begins massaging me, I suspect I’ve died and gone to heaven. I can feel her against me, the warmth at her center, and the swells of her breasts when she leans forward. It’s erotic and the scent of her filling the room is intoxicating.
Her phone ringing from somewhere else in her apartment breaks the spell and I groan in protest when she gets up to answer it.
She’s gone so long I almost fall asleep. When she returns, she looks both excited and stressed-out.
“Now you’re the one who needs the massage,” I say while sitting up. She smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Uh-oh. What happened?”
Robyn steps closer to the bed and I notice her hands are behind her back. “I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?”
I can’t even begin to fathom what either could be.
“Uh, bad news first, I guess. Then maybe the good news can cheer me up.”
She nods. “Okay. That was my boss. I won’t be at your show tomorrow night. My mom is going to be so bummed.”
Fuck. “Why? Because of me? Because of us?” If Midnight Bay is firing her over this, I’ll be having words with them first thing tomorrow morning.
She grins in response to my panic attack. “Nope. Actually I’m not supposed to tell you.”
“But you’re going to,” I tell her, because like hell I’m dropping it without an explanation.
“Yeah. I think you’ve dealt with enough today with the radio interviews. A surprise party is probably the last thing you need thrown at you.”