by Tina Saxon
“Max,” I murmur. “Why are you in my room? Or even on the bus?”
The bus shakes to life as the engine turns. I jerk around. No, don’t go—we have a stowaway.
“What did you think would happen when you demanded you stay on the bus versus flying to your next concert?”
It wasn’t this!
Blowing out a hard breath as I turn back, I toss my bag on the couch that wraps around the back of the bus in a U-shape. My butt hits the hard bottom frame from the impact of dropping onto the cheap cushion. I sigh in defeat.
“Sooo, this is cozy.”
He nods, glancing around the room. “It’s actually nice. It’s the first time I’ve been on a tour bus,” he says, ignoring my sarcasm.
“I’d give you a tour, but you had it walking all the way back here. To my room. Passing the multiple places you could have sat and done work.”
He leans forward, his fingers laced on the tabletop. Silence hangs between us, and I fidget under his scrutinizing stare, shifting one leg over the other. Finally, he calmly says, “I needed privacy, and everyone was coming on the bus soon. But me being back here isn’t what has you acting like a bitch. So, what’s wrong?”
My gaze jerks to his as his words shoot spikes to my raw nerves. “If you really want to know, calling me a bitch isn’t the way to get it.” He shrugs but stays quiet. I don’t expect a sorry to be crossing his lips — especially when it’s true. I fold in half, covering my face with my hands. I’m the one that should be apologizing.
“I made a list. Of everyone that I come in contact with daily, except this list only has guys’ names on it.”
“You should—”
“Shh,” I clip, holding a finger up. “Stone enlightened me. I worked all week to cross off every name on that list. It made me feel better about being around them again, like I was creating a false sense of security between us to manage my paranoia.”
Max closes his laptop and shifts in his seat like he’s about to get up, except he thinks better of it and stays where he’s at. Disappointment drags its feet on my heart only to be kicked with confusion in my head. Leave it to Max to have my emotions dueling against each other. One minute I’m pissed he’s in here only to be wishing he was sitting by me the next. “Tink, I want you to feel safe. That’s why we’re here.”
I lie back against the cushion, mentally drained. Pulling my legs up under me, I nod. “I do. But I’m tired of looking at people, wondering if they hate me enough to kill me. And now, my list just doubled.”
“I can go out there if you need some alone time.”
A flash of loneliness makes my insides ache. I fix my attention on the drapes covering the window. Pushing aside the heavy black polyester, highway lights brighten the darkness every few seconds. This week, I debated if I could put myself back out in the public. But being on that stage made me realize it was exactly where I belonged. The drapes slip from my fingers, but I continue to stare at them, mindlessly.
“No. I’m glad you’re here,” I say without looking at him.
My whole body jerks at the sound of a phone. Is it him? Or her? I frantically search for my phone, but Max clears his throat and holds up his ringing phone. I squeeze my eyes shut in relief and embarrassment. I’m losing it.
“Hey Ma,” Max says, his voice naturally deep but with a sweet undertone. It grabs my attention. He’s never mentioned his mother. He chuckles. “He shouldn’t have said anything.” I glance at him and stare in awe. Is Max a mama’s boy?
“I am.”
I giggle to myself that he answered my unasked question, certain I didn’t ask the same question his mom did.
“Ma, we’re not talking about this right now.”
He flashes me a mischievous grin. What is that about?
“Yes, I’ll tell her.” Her? Are they talking about me?
He laughs again. “Enough. Now, tell me why you’re really calling me at midnight your time.”
The sweet undertone does an about-face when his voice hardens. “What the fuck did he do now?”
His cheeks redden as he winces. “Sorry. What the hell did he do now?”
I roll my lips between my teeth to stop from laughing. Max just got put in his place by his mom. A taunt of a smile crosses his lips when his eyes flash to mine. He points at me, teasing.
“You’re gonna get grounded,” I whisper.
Max can’t help but laugh out loud. “No. I’m listening. Sky’s just being obnoxious.”
I unfold my legs and kick him under the table.
“Yes, she’s right here.”
“Absolutely not. You don’t need to talk to her.”
I jump up and reach for the phone while nodding. Yes, let me talk to her. He smirks, grabbing my hand so I can’t get to the phone. “Another time, Ma. Finish telling what he did.”
Our eyes lock as our hands stay connected. His warmth awakens parts of me and I inhale sharply. We both pull back busying ourselves, him talking to his mom and I look through my bag for nothing in particular. Settling on my iPad, I pull it out and open the book I started yesterday. I sense Max’s eyes on me, but I force myself to stare at the empty words. It might as well be a blank page because I’m not retaining any of it.
“I can’t bail him out every time. He needs to learn.”
He lets out a small groan. “Fine. I’ll do it for you. But I can’t promise anything.”
“Love you too, Ma.”
I flinch when he slams the phone down on the table. “Be glad you don’t have any siblings,” he grates out.
“You have a sibling?” I ask in utter surprise.
He leans back, lifting his hands behind his head and stares up at the ceiling. “A half-brother,” he murmurs. The level of disappointment in his voice is probably a clue why I didn’t know about him. Although, he’s never mentioned his mom either.
“Tell me about your mom,” I say. A lazy smile crawls up one side of his face as he brings his attention back to me. It’s sexy as hell.
“She’s a fan of yours.”
I sit up taller, placing the iPad on the table and cross my legs. “Really?” I prompt, smiling ecstatically. “Where does she live? You’ve never talked about her.” Learning about his mom has piqued my interest, I have so many questions.
“She’s in North Carolina.” Figures he doesn’t offer any other information until he senses I’m about to ask more questions. “She lives there with my step-father, Brad and Rex is their kid.”
Hmm, Max and Rex.
As if reading my mind, he says, “My mom has a thing with the letter X.”
Him rolling his eyes makes me chuckle. “It’s cute.”
“It’s not,” he responds flatly. “He’s younger by five years and a total fuckup. Every time he gets into trouble, my mom calls and guilts me into helping him out. It’s getting old.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Sorry. I’m a pro at having fucked up family members.”
“Let’s not go down that road. I’m still pissed about your aunt.” I sigh, dropping my head, hating that he witnessed my aunt straight-up lie that she didn’t know me. But that’s been my life of being discarded so easy. “Tink, look at me,” he softly commands. I lift my head. “It’s their loss, not yours. They don’t deserve you.”
If only it was my aunt that felt that way. But it’s my mom. That’s probably why hearing that Max’s mom likes me gives me life.
“Look.” He picks up his phone, searching for something and then hands it to me.
A small gasp escapes my lips as I stare at a picture of Max and his mom standing in front of a lake house. “Max, she’s beautiful.” The gorgeous petite blond, who’s arm barely reaches around Max, is peering up to her son, the love she has for him evident by her bright smile. I can’t stop staring. Especially the part where Max is smiling down at her too. It’s the perfect picture. The feelings I have for Max jump to a new level and it startles me. I tear my gaze away and hand the phone back to him. “Was your dad tall? Because you towe
r over your mom.”
He nods as he eyes the picture and then puts his phone down. “He was six foot.”
I wonder if his dad had a hero complex too. Is that why they like petite women? The need to feel superior in the relationship because they can protect their woman. Seeing that picture, it’s obvious he takes after his dad in type. His mom is my size. Petite.
“What’s going through that head of yours?”
I wave my hand around. “Nothing.” As if I’d tell him I was stereotyping him. “How long were your parents married?”
“They never married.”
“Oh.”
He shrugs. “I'm the result of a one-night stand. My dad was too busy building an empire to make time for a wife, so my mom never pursued a romantic relationship. And he never tried to change her mind.”
I swallow, folding my hands in my lap and bite my tongue. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
Both our attention turns to the door where music floats in from the guys messing around. We both chuckle when we hear Tug butcher my song. That’s why we don’t have him sing. It surprises me when Max continues. “My mom met Dan when I was three, Rex came five years later.”
“Have you and Rex ever been close?”
“Not really. He’s always been the annoying little brother. He’s an entitled punk ass who acts like life handed him a shitty hand because he’s not me.”
My eyes widen. “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel,” I joke. “Is he really that bad?”
I wanted a sibling so bad growing up; I prayed every night that my dad would accidentally get my mom pregnant again. We’d be so close because we would have each other. I was eleven when I found out my mom had her tubes tied right after she had me. Talk about a dream killer. Which is why it’s hard for me to understand the distaste Max has for his brother.
Max lets out a sarcastic laugh. “Yes. When he was ten, he started stealing. A candy bar here, a bag of chips there. It started small. His ill-gotten gains increased in worth over time. He honed in on his craft and became great at stealing without being caught. Might be the only thing he’s ever been good at.” Max disappointedly shakes his head. “Then he put a team together.”
I lean on the table, snap my gaping mouth shut. This is crazy. “Like a legit Ocean’s Eleven team?”
“I guess,” he mumbles, not impressed. “The first time he was caught, he was seventeen, and I was already in the FBI. My mom called freaking out because they wanted to try him as an adult. He had stolen around ten grand worth of electronics. I helped get him out of it. Paying off the homeowner. Instead of learning a lesson, that’s when he formed his team and decided they needed to think smaller, things that were easier to steal, which led them to jewelry heists. I had heard nothing about his endeavors lately, so I was hoping he found something else to do with his time.”
“Holy shit. Did he get caught again?”
He shakes his head. “Not sure. No one’s been able to contact him for a couple weeks.”
My heart hurts for his mom. She has two sons that are on different sides of the law, but both chose paths that risk their lives daily. “I bet your mom is going out of her mind.”
Max runs his hand against his five o’clock shadow. “She is. But, you have to know my mom, she’s always making drama about something.”
I kick him under the table but quickly pull my legs back under me so he can’t grab them. “Consider who her sons are. Can you blame her?”
“Shit, I’m the good son.” He puffs his chest out, his massive shoulders squaring and he flashes a roguish grin. I’ve never seen his brother, but I can bet Max is the sexiest of the two. I bite my lip at his playfulness.
“And yet, she has probably lost more sleep worrying about you.”
“Pshh. I can handle myself.”
His cockiness irritates me. Damon had the same superhero mentality, thought nothing could hurt him. It’s like he was daring the universe. The universe proved him wrong. Not liking the direction my head is going, I scoot over into the corner, prop up a couple pillows and stretch my feet across the back cushion. I don’t think I could handle another heartbreak like that. I close my eyes over the wetness, the unfounded fear creeping up on me. I’m not even with Max.
“Hey.” His voice is soft. I open my eyes when I hear him move. He scoots to the other corner, lays his hand across the back and asks, “Why are you upset?”
I blink back the tears, rubbing my temple. My body is tired. “Nothing. My emotions are all unhinged right now with everything going on. The smallest thing can trigger them.”
He surveys me for a few minutes. “Tink, nothing will happen to you. I won’t let it.”
My brows furrow and I blow out a ragged breath. “Max, you can’t promise that. If it was meant to be, it’ll be.”
His eyes darken and his chiseled jaw tics. “That’s fucking bullshit.” His bite catches me off guard. His nostrils flare as he takes a few calming breaths.
I realize both our fears are of losing each other.
“Sorry,” I whisper, regretting my words.
He reaches out, grabs my bare foot and gently starts massaging it. I start to pull it back until he digs his thumb into my arch. Ohhh! That feels amazing. My eyes roll back and I melt into the pillows as he continues his therapeutic assault on my foot. A small moan escapes and his hands freeze. Shit. Knowing where his mind just went and afraid he’ll stop, I blurt out, “I didn’t know foot masseur was part of your resume.”
He chuckles, adjusting his shorts and position by bringing a knee up on the cushion. When his fingers move again, I refrain from throwing my hand in the air like I just won bingo. “I just want you to relax. Don’t think about anything.”
The only thing I’m thinking about is how fan-fucking-tastic your fingers feel — and not in a sexual way.
Music is no longer coming from the galley, leaving only the sound of tires pounding the road underneath us. With the sway of the bus and Max’s strong fingers taking turns on both of my feet, my body feels heavy, pulling me under.
Chapter Twenty
Sydney
“This is insane,” I squeal, peering out the window at the sea of limos. Ours moves forward only to stop again. Paparazzi lines the street to capture the perfect shot that will skyrocket their career in the land of tabloids. Earlier, when I was here for rehearsal, this place was like a ghost town compared to the zoo it is now.
I sit back against the black leather and peer at Max. He winks at me. My smile grows as I admire him in his tux. He looks downright sinful, the black jacket outlining his muscular build. The second he walked into the hotel room, my heart did cartwheels and tingles fluttered in my lower belly. After the foot massage night, Max tasked Stone with riding on the bus with me. It stung, realizing he didn’t feel the same way about me. Since then, he’s always been around, but he’s kept to the background. Interactions kept to a minimum.
Nothing has happened since someone poisoned me. I tried to convince Graham that Max scared the person off just by being here, but neither of them is letting up on my security. Especially since no one around us has disappeared, they think the person is just lying low. So, here we are.
Max escorting me to the American Music Awards.
Last week, Graham told me a country artist had to drop out last minute due to a family emergency and they asked if I’d be willing to take her spot as a performer. We were off this weekend because Preston is attending. I screamed. Really loud. Max came running into my room, ready to kill. He was less than thrilled when I told him it was a happy scream. “I’m happy for you,” he grumbled as he stomped out of the room.
Movement from the limo brings me back to the present. When it slows down, I roll the privacy window down so I can peek out the front. One, two, three… ten limos away from our destination. The red carpet. My nerves kick up a notch and I roll the window back up. “What if I fall while I’m walking down the carpet,” I moan, leaning back again. I fan my face as the nerves cont
inue to mess with me, my forehead starting to glow. Clicking my Roger Vivier clutch open, I pull out a compact and start blotting powder across my face.
Max chuckles and I glare at him over the mirror so he stops. “I’ll be right there by your side.”
“While I appreciate that, I’m still surprised you’re escorting me. You’re not an in the spotlight kinda guy.” I wonder what Addie will say when she sees the pictures of Max by my side. I can already imagine the gossip that’ll spread like butter on warm toast. Quick and easy.
“When duty calls, I’ll do anything.” His smile turns down. Here we go again. He’s about to lecture me, for the umpteenth time, what I should do if anything looks, seems, or smells suspicious. Go inside immediately. He’s crazy if he expects me to leave the Red Carpet early. This might be a once in a lifetime opportunity. They’ll have to drag my dead body off. Of course, I didn’t share that tidbit with him. Knowing Max, he’d throw me over his shoulder and walk me off himself if he knew I didn’t plan on following his rules.
“Max, nothing will happen tonight. This is a very publicized event. You can’t pick your nose without someone snapping a shot.”
“Then don’t pick your nose.” I laugh at the serious tone in his voice. Oh, I won’t.
After makeup touch-ups and a quick peek at my nose, I smack my red lips together and take a sharp inhale, letting it out slowly. I’ve been counting each stop and we’re at seven now. We have to be close. Right as I’m about to ask the driver, Max sits forward and tells me we’ve got five minutes. My brows draw together. He taps his ear at my confusion. Ah, the hidden ear mic. Max, in his tux and gadgets, could be the next James Bond. He’d be the hottest of them all, that’s for sure.
Max watches me fidget. I run my hand over my dress, trying to straighten the creases. “You look gorgeous, Tink.” I halt my hand and glance up. Worry creeps up my spine that I won’t be able to hide the feelings I have for Max. It’s easy when I’m busy. But there are millions of cameras. Pictures that catch the perfect moment when I peek up at him adoringly are bound to happen. I close my eyes, searching for personal restraint.
