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“Whoa, darlin’. Rein it in a sec,” he says, throwing his hands up. I didn’t even realize I was charging toward him.

“What?” I demand, wondering what in the hell he could possibly say to justify his behavior.

His smile widens but his hazel eyes cloud over with a troubled expression. Like I hurt his feelings. Like that’s even possible.

“I did request you, Robyn. But not for the reasons you’ve obviously assumed.”

I take a deep breath and fold my arms across my chest. “Then why?”

“Because you’re young and smart and driven. Because you were the only one at Midnight Bay to mention social media integration in your presentation. Those were the words I was waiting to hear. You said them. So I thought you’d be the right person for the job. You also happen to be beautiful and I wouldn’t kick you out of bed if you were interested, but that had absolutely nothing to do with my requesting you for this tour. Scout’s honor.”

“So the comment earlier about what you’d prefer?”

“If my teasing you made you uncomfortable, I apologize. It’s a habit I just sort of fall into when I don’t know what else to say. I’ll make an effort to cut that out where you’re concerned. It’s unprofessional and uncalled for.”

“Well . . . thank you. I’d appreciate that.”

I feel two inches tall and if I had one wish right now, it would be for the ground to open up and swallow me whole.

“So . . . we good?” He nods toward his bus. “ ’Cause I got—”

“Go. Sorry. In the future I’ll ask any questions I have without taking your head off first.”

Jase laughs good-naturedly. “It’s fine. You’re a woman in a mostly male-dominated business. I can imagine the shit you have to put up with. My hat’s off to you.” With that, he tips his hat. “And for the record, my groupies are pretty shameless. God bless ’em.” He turns and gets onto his tour bus, leaving me shaking my head and contemplating the many ways in which I could murder Dallas Lark.

19 | Dallas

THE KNOCK ON THE THIN DOOR TO MY ROOM ON THE BUS IS SHARP and angry sounding. So naturally I assume it’s Mandy here to make some lewd suggestion about how I owe her my dick or something.

I sigh and open it, pleasantly surprised to find Robyn on the other side instead. My guitarist, Tyler, is standing behind her looking concerned for my well-being. I give him an I’ve-got-this nod and move aside for Robyn to come in. She blows past me without a word.

“You okay?”

“No. I’m not.” She shakes her head and looks off into the distance, paying more attention to the modest furnishings in the room than to me. “I confronted him. Because of what you said. And guess what?”

Now her eyes do meet mine and I’m nervous about what I see in them. Matching glinting emeralds of hatred is what they most resemble at the moment.

“I can’t even begin to guess.”

“No?” Her voice rises an octave or two. “You can’t? That’s funny considering a few hours ago you were an expert on the subject.”

“Clearly you’re upset with me.” I state the obvious because I know her well enough to know that when she’s in this mood everything I say will be fuel to her fire.

“You think?” She purses her sexy little mouth and shakes her head at me. “I was ranting on and on about being a professional and the whole time I was acting like some stupid teenager freaking out over gossip. Because guess what, Dallas? Whoever your source is got it wrong. Jase Wade didn’t request me on this tour because he wanted to get into my panties. He requested me because of the social media pitch I gave in my presentation.”

“Okay. Well, then I’m glad I was wrong.”

“You’re glad you were wrong? Since when? Since when are you ever wrong, Dallas? You just decide how things are and that’s how it is, right?” She runs her hands through her tangled hair, then gapes at me. “Dead God. I said he thought he was King Pimp of the universe.”

I fold my lips inward to keep from laughing. Laughing would be so bad right now.

“Do not dare laugh at me, Dallas. I cannot believe you said that stuff to me. But you know what’s worse? I believed it. And do you know why?”

Do not speak.

In lieu of a verbal answer I shake my head.

“I believed it because that’s how you make me feel. Like all I’m good for is getting you off when you need it. Right? Bang out a few orgasms and hey, maybe a song, too, for good measure. Good old Robyn. She’ll just take what she can get. That’s all you want me for, so of course, that must be all any other guy can see as well.” She takes these gaspy little breaths that make me hate myself.

The urge to laugh has passed.

“Baby, I—”

She slaps my hand away when I reach for her. “No. No, we’re done with that. Do not touch me. You could’ve cost me my job tonight, riling me up with your jealous macho crap. And I am so done.”

“Robyn,” I call out, pulling at her waist before she twists out of my arms. “Listen to me. That’s not how it was.”

“How was it then? Tell me. Because I feel cheap, and used, and played. And I do not deserve that.”

“You’re right.” I nod like a fucking bobblehead. “You don’t. I swear to God, making you feel that way was not my intention.” I sit on my bed and look up at her. Her pain is mine now, and it’s weighing heavy on my chest. I hurt her, deeply, and I’d kick my own ass if I knew how.

“Then why, Dallas? Why say those awful things to me? Because it sure seemed like you meant them.”

I clear my throat and give her the most honest answer that I can.

“Because I got caught up. I was worried that he wanted you here so he could use his authority over you and pull with your company to take advantage. I should’ve just confronted him myself instead of telling you. But we used to tell each other everything and old habits are hard to break.”

“Well, get un-caught-up. Just stay out of it from now on, okay?” She takes a shaky breath that throws me off balance. “Just stay out of my personal and professional business and worry about you.”

“Ask me anything, Robyn. Ask me to back off, to keep my hands to myself, to stop wanting to pummel every guy who looks at you sideways. I can’t make any promises, but I can try. But please, babe, don’t ask me not to care. Because I can’t not care about you. I’ve tried. I failed. I will always care. And anytime I see someone who I think might try to hurt you in any way, I probably won’t be able to stop myself from stepping in even if you don’t want me there.”

For a split second I see something in her eyes that makes me think she’s going to say she understands. That’s she’ll try to be patient with me because I’m a jackass and she knows I can’t help it.

But then her expression hardens and her shoulders stiffen and she shakes her head.

“When you get up on that stage, Dallas, I am so proud of you. I remember watching you play at dive bars and catfish weigh-ins and wherever else they would let you. I knew from the first time I saw you play that you were something special. I couldn’t wait for the rest of the world to see it. And now that they do, I am so honored to get to be a part of that. But I need you to at least respect my job even if you don’t think it’s as important as yours. I may not get up on a stage night after night, but I work really hard, too. And it would’ve been really nice if you could’ve been proud of me back.”

“Robyn—”

“Don’t. I acted like a psycho in front of a client tonight because I let you get in my head. That’s not okay, Dallas. Just leave me be. You focus on your career and I’ll focus on mine. Got it?”

She doesn’t even wait for my answer.

After she walks out, I toss a chair against the wall and watch it splinter into pieces. For the rest of the night I feel even more alone than I did before she came by to yell at me.