“I get it, I do. And honestly, your band could use some eye candy for the ladies, if you know what I’m saying.”
“If only you weren’t so modest.” She laughed as Steven leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. At the exact same moment that his lips met her skin, she heard someone clear his throat.
“Sorry. There was a fresh market stand at the last stop so I, uh, got you these because I noticed there weren’t any on the bus. I’ll put them in the kitchen.”
Kylie watched Trace take the bananas he held out of her room. She opened her mouth to thank him but he was gone before she got the words out. She shot Steven a helpless look and he shook his head.
“You’re right. You do need a friend,” he said as she leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m just not sure I’m the one you need.”
“YOU STRAIGHT?”
Trace raised his eyes to meet the ones of his bass player. “Yeah, man. I’m good.”
“Thinking about drinking?”
He raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth to lie. But he saw the truth in Mike’s eyes. “Yeah. Little bit.”
“Call your sponsor, Tray. Call him now. Tell him what’s going on. Or call Dr. Reynolds and tell him to meet up with us. Don’t wait until it’s too late.”
He grimaced. Damn. He’d promised himself he could do this. He’d been so strong for so long, but seeing another man kiss her, even on the fucking forehead, hurt in a way he didn’t know how to heal.
So he’d been sitting backstage at her soundcheck in Detroit letting her thick voice wash over him, tearing into all those old wounds. Which was where Mike had found him looking like a kicked puppy.
Through the break in the curtain he could see her—well the back of her. A shot of bourbon sounded good about then. An entire bottle of it sounded even better. But there wasn’t a brand of liquor in the world that would douse the pain having a girl like Kylie Ryans and losing her caused.
So he took a sip from his bottle of water and listened to her voice echoing in an empty stadium.
You might wake up with a smile on your face, but you’ll reach out to find an empty space. I don’t do waking up in your arms, won’t be impressed by your smile or your charm. I’ll set your night on fire. I’m a live wire. I’m a live wire.
She shimmied over toward her guitar player and rubbed her body against his as he performed his solo. Trace forced himself to look away.
“You know,” Mike began quietly, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you back down like this. You were always a take-what-you-want kind of guy. I admired that about you.”
Trace leaned back in his chair. “It’s more complicated than that.”
“Is it? Or are you just too scared to throw your hat in the ring because you’re afraid she won’t pick you?”
“You suck at minding your own business, you know that?”
Mike chuckled. “Yeah I know. Hey, you remember that time she hustled us all in poker?”
Trace grinned at the memory. Kylie had played the guys in his band and taken them for all they were worth when they were on tour together. None of them had complained much since she’d done a sexy little victory dance afterwards. “She didn’t hustle me, Brennen. I wasn’t playing.”
“Right,” Mike agreed. “And once again, she’s holding all the cards and you’re sitting out on the sidelines. Why is that you think?”
Before he could answer, his manager appeared.
“Okay, thanks for letting me know,” Pauly Garrett said into the phone before disconnecting the call.
“Everything okay?” Trace looked up at the man who was shaking his head.
“Nothing for you to worry about.”
“Well that’s a sure sign it probably is something for me to worry about.”
Pauly’s expression tensed. “You just focus on your show. Let’s try and see if you and Kylie can manage to look more like human beings and less like robots during your duet, shall we?”
Trace shrugged. “Maybe you should discuss that with her.” If she wanted to rub herself against her guitarist like a cat in heat and then pretend he didn’t exist when they were singing together, that was her issue. Not much he could do about it.
“Maybe I will,” Pauly said as she came off the stage and toward them.
Trace didn’t miss the way Blythe whispered in her ear or placed his hand on the small of her back. He felt his anger rising to a dangerous level.
So this was jealousy. He wasn’t a fan of it. And it was owning his ass at the moment.
A slap on his shoulder snapped him out of his trance.
“Doesn’t look all that complicated to me,” Mike said with a smirk as he stood.