“Uh, his kids’ names?”
“Yeah.”
Kylie scanned her memory for any mention of their names. “I don’t know. He never said.”
“Really? ’Cause I’ve met him all of once and I know their names, time of birth, and weight.”
“I’ve been busy,” Kylie said in her own defense.
“Okay, what’s his wife’s name then?”
Once again, she felt like she should know the answer but couldn’t pull it to her lips. “Starts with an M I think.”
Mike raised a brow. “Really? They spell Rachel with an M where you’re from?”
“Jesus Christ, Mike. She doesn’t have to memorize all of their life stories,” Lulu broke in. “Give her a friggin’ break.”
“That’s not what I’m saying.” He gave a slight shake of his head and shrugged. “All I’m saying is, I can get not letting everyone in. The way shit went down with you and Tray, I can see how you’d want to be careful. And it’s not easy trusting people in this business, period. But when it comes to your band, you might want to at least make an effort. Let them know you’re human and you actually give a shit about them.”
She pulled her knees up to her chest. It felt like the man had just torn her skin off and shown everyone her battered heart.
She’d changed. She knew she had. But she also felt like she’d had to. Otherwise she’d just keep trusting the wrong people, giving them everything she had to give, and winding up empty and alone. At least this way she was alone by choice.
“I need to know something. Tell me the truth, Brennen. Please?” She hated the pathetic pleading tone in her voice, but she had to know.
He smirked at her, and she glared hard at him before he made an inappropriate comment.
“Trace and…Trace and Gretchen. Are they a thing or not? Was it all media hype or was there truth to any of it?”
Trace’s bass player and friend tilted his head and stared at her intently. Then he ran a hand through his messy blond hair and shrugged. “You and the kid who recently parted ways with the tour. Were you a thing or not? Was it all media hype or was—”
“I got it,” she said, putting a hand up. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
Lulu handed her another bottle of water from the fridge. “Ignore him. What the hell does he know, right?”
“No, he’s right,” Kylie said softly, taking the drink from her friend. “I shut people out. It seemed easier that way, after everything. Until…” She trailed off, unsure as to how to explain.
“Until you had to face him again. He’s not exactly the type of guy you can shut out.”
Kylie swallowed, the knot in her throat threatening to choke her for what seemed like the millionth time recently. “Yeah,” she managed to get out.
“Well, I don’t know that Bass Boy is exactly the best person to be giving life advice, but I do think there’s at least one person you should talk to about how you feel about Trace. Get everything out in the open and go from there.”
Her brows dipped in confusion. The sham of a relationship she’d faked with Steven was over. Her cover was blown and she was pretty sure everyone knew that.
“Kylie,” her friend prompted. “I think it’s time you talked to him.”
The bus stopped and she realized they were at the hotel. That wasn’t the only thing she realized. Her friend was right. Painfully so.
“Can we stop in the hotel bar before we head to the room? I need a drink.”
Mike’s eyebrows shot up. “You just passed out from dehydration and you want to—”
“Yes,” Lulu interrupted, glaring at Mike as she did. “Yes we can have a drink. It’s been a crazy few weeks. You’ve earned yourself a drink. But just one, Ky. You did just pass out on me after all.”
Kylie still felt sick and slightly dazed as they got off the bus and walked toward the hotel.
If she was going to tell Trace Corbin how she felt about him, how she really felt, she was going to need a hell of a lot more than one drink.
BECAUSE HIS manager was a decent guy and also a decent-sized pain in the ass, he’d kept on and on at him until Trace got on the bus and rode to the hotel with the band.
Danny asked if Kylie was okay, and Trace mumbled that he wasn’t allowed to check on her apparently.
He felt like he had a babysitter from the second they arrived at the hotel in Greensboro. Danny and Pauly flanked him closely as they passed the hotel bar.
“What the hell is the deal with you two?”
“Nothing,” they both answered a little too readily.
Pauly glanced at his phone. “Hey, I’m starved. How about we let the crew unload everything and we go grab some dinner?”