“YOU’RE SERIOUSLY telling me nothing happened?” Her best friend gaped at her in disbelief. “Like nothing as in no bow chicka wow wow, or nothing as in absolutely nothing? Not even a kiss or one of those damn spine-tingling, shiver-inducing, panty-combusting one-liners he’s so good at?”
“Nothing as in nothing, Lu. He tossed Darla’s book in the fire. We roasted marshmallows. We ate s’mores. We went to bed. Separately. The end.” Kylie kept her voice low as her friend did her makeup. She hoped the girl would take the cue and lower her voice as well before someone heard.
“Well, that’s…disappointing.”
Kylie snorted. “Sorry. Guess you’ll have to try and be satisfied with your own love life since I don’t actually have one. Speaking of which—”
“Nope. Not talking about it. Don’t even ask.”
Kylie leaned back out of her friend’s reach. “What the hell do you mean you’re not talking about it? I tell you everything!”
Lulu nodded. “Exactly. And I have this theory.”
“You and your theories,” Kylie grumbled under her breath.
“Yeah. And they’re usually right. This one I’m serious about.”
“The theory or the guy? ’Cause, Lu, I gotta tell you, Mike Brennen is a—”
Lulu put a blue glittery manicured hand up in front of Kylie’s mouth. “Nope. This is what you do. You overthink things, which is something I never thought I’d say about you. But ever since—”
“I got it. You think I’m being too careful.” Kylie knew her voice had taken on a harsher tone, but she didn’t care. Her heart pounded in her chest and she had to speak louder to hear herself over it.
“But when you fall for Mike Brennen, who, by the way, is an alcoholic known for nailing anything that doesn’t move out of the way fast enough, and he screws the next thing that comes along behind your back and you have to watch their entire relationship play out in front of the whole world, then you can come talk to me about being too careful.” She propelled herself out of the chair.
“Kylie, wait.” Her friend called after her. But she didn’t.
She fled her best friend’s tiny room without looking back.
As soon as she stepped off the bus and into the warm South Carolina sunshine, she was blocked by a solid wall of red and blue plaid.
“Okay, Gretch. Hate that you can’t make it tonight. We’ll catch up later then,” Trace said into his phone before lowering it and disconnecting the call.
Literally running into him when he was on the phone with her least favorite, or maybe her second least favorite—she hadn’t taken the time to weigh Gretchen Gibson against Darla yet—person in the whole world, set her nerves on edge. The peaceful truce they’d reached the night before felt like a distant memory.
“Jesus. Do you not own any other shirts?” She squinted up at him. His dark sunglasses hid his eyes, but his mouth quirked up in amusement.
“My bad, Joan Rivers. You have a complaint about my wardrobe?”
Kylie sighed and tried to move around him. “Too many to list. What are you doing over here anyways?”
“I was looking for my bass player. You seen him?”
“No. I haven’t. And can you do me a favor when you do?”
Trace folded his arms over his broad chest. She refused to let herself notice the enticing way his forearms rippled and flexed.
“What’s that?”
“Tell him to leave my friend alone? Seriously. I need her, and if he does something to hurt her and she leaves then—”
“Yeah, I hear what you’re saying. I do.” Trace adjusted his bright red trucker hat, lifting the bill just enough to scratch his head before lowering it back down. “But I tried telling him to back off before anything even happened between them. You saw how well he listened.”
“How well he listened to what?” Lulu inquired from behind her.
Kylie cringed. Shit.
“I’m gonna let you gals discuss this amongst yourselves. Either of you see Mike, tell him to get his ass to soundcheck, please.” With that, Trace beat it out of there.
Thanks for the support, Corbin.
Slowly, Kylie turned to face her friend. “Lu. I’m sorry. I know I’m being a control freak and paranoid—”
“And ridiculous.” Her friend shook her head as she came down off the bus. “Ky, I’m not you, and Mike’s not Trace. We’re not madly in love or starting some angst-filled, ill-fated, overly drawn-out romance. We’re hooking up for lack of anything better to do. It’s fun. We’re having a good time.”