But it was too late now. It was already out there—this bound book of lies about him and her both.
A hard sob forced its way out of her throat and she threw the book across the room. It hit the wall with a dull thud and landed open on the floor.
“Kylie Lou,” a soft voice called. She went completely still, briefly entertaining the ridiculous idea of hiding in a closet so she wouldn’t have to face him. She hurried to erase the evidence that she’d been crying. “You okay?” Trace stepped into her room and picked up the book she’d thrown.
She lifted her chin in an attempt to appear perfectly fine. “What are you doing here? I thought everyone was staying at your place tonight.”
She didn’t add that it stung like a dozen angry hornets that he’d invited everyone except her to his place for a home-cooked meal after the show. Not that she would’ve gone. But it stung nonetheless.
“They are. I think the better question is, what are you doing here?”
She gave him her best that’s-a-stupid-ass-question face. “Well, I wasn’t invited to the farm last I checked. So where else would I be?”
“I didn’t ask why you were here. I asked what you were doing. I meant specifically.”
She sighed loudly and closed her eyes for a moment. With a light shake of her head, she opened them and looked at him.
“Trace, between your big productions tonight—you know, the one on stage and the one where you attacked Steven for no good reason—and then our argument outside where you decided to rehash painful memories just for fun, I’m kind of tired.”
“You’re tired?” He eyed the book in his hands. “So you decided to read a book that you knew would keep you up all night?”
An explanation came to mind, but she bit her tongue. She didn’t owe him anything.
“What I read is none of your business.”
“Fine. So why are you all alone on this bus reading that piece of garbage? Where’s Steven? I saw Mia and Lily leaving earlier and I could’ve sworn I saw him leaving with them. Care to tell me what the fuck is actually going on with the two of you before I make an even bigger ass of myself?”
“Not that that’s any of your business either, but he left. He’s done with the tour. Congratulations. Mission accomplished. You can rest easy now.”
Pushing off her mattress, she stood and placed a hand out for her book.
He frowned and ignored her gesture. “I wasn’t trying to run him off. I just didn’t want to see you get—”
“I swear to God, if you try to somehow spin this into you being some big damn hero, I am going to scream.” She shook her head and stepped back toward her bed. “And the idea of you protecting me from getting hurt is laughable.”
She expected him to say something back. But he just looked at her intently, as if she were a puzzle to piece together and he was struggling to make it all fit. Her patience ran out before he said anything else.
“Can you just grab whatever you forgot and go on back to Macon? I’m really not in the mood for this right now.”
“Okay. I’ll do that then.” Without warning, Trace leaned down and lifted her off the floor. Before she had time to say a single word in protest, she was upside down over his shoulder and they were bounding out of her room.
“Pants,” she squealed. “Trace, I’m not wearing any pants!”
“I know.” He gave her a firm smack on her ass, which was right next to his head. “Thank God for that. It was the only reason I could stand listening to all your whiny baby nonsense in there.”
“Nonsense? Where the hell do you get off?”
He sat her down in the kitchen. “Well, I used to get off inside of you. On a good day, anyways. Otherwise in the shower mostly.”
“Something is seriously wrong with you.” Her mouth threatened to let a small smile creep out and she wanted to slap herself in the face.
“Lots of things are wrong with me, darlin’. Surely you get that by now.” He looked at her as if she were the one acting like a crazed lunatic instead of the other way around. “But I can’t fucking sleep in my big empty bed knowing you’re here on this damn bus all alone. So get your shit and let’s go.”
“I’m not going—”
“Spare me the toddler fit, okay? It’s late. It’s been a long day, like you said. And I have something I want us to do before we head back to the farm.”
“Oh no, Trace Corbin. If you think for one second that we’re going to—”
“Going to what, Kylie Lou?” His face was the picture of innocence. She knew hers was likely glowing with embarrassment. “I see you have your mind in the gutter. Nice. I approve.”