by Caisey Quinn
“Good God, yes. I need to go. If I don’t get off that bus I might go in-fucking-sane. Three girls were never meant to live like that. It was so much easier with Trace.”
Lulu snorted. “Yeah, I bet it was.” She let out a dramatic sigh. “Guess all my bitches got dudes now.”
Kylie slapped her friend lightly on the arm. “Hey, I’m no one’s bitch.”
Lulu giggled. “Uh, I think you might be Trace Corbin’s bitch. Maybe a little?”
She bit her lip to contain the grin his name brought to her face. “Nah. He’s my bitch.”
“Hey, speaking of bitches, want to take a drive to Pride and go roll Darla’s new house?”
She struggled to make sense of what her friend had just said. “What do you mean, her new house?”
Lulu’s panic-stricken expression made her stomach tighten. “Um, I’m sorry, Ky. I thought you knew. She sold your old house and bought one on the nicer side of town.”
So that was what she’d done with the money Trace had paid her to keep quiet then. Rage flooded her and she struggled to breathe normally as not to alarm her friend. “I can’t believe she sold my daddy’s house. No, wait, I can believe it. She never gave a shit about him.” She fought off a sob as tears threatened to fill her eyes. Her daddy had deserved better than what he’d gotten. He’d deserved to be loved.
“Don’t worry. I’ll pay the high school football team to roll her house every weekend if you want. Not like there’s anything better to do in Pride.”
Kylie contemplated that offer as they walked to the bus. “If you run out of money, let me know. I’ll donate to the cause.”
“Eh, I can always flash ‘em a boob or two if the funding runs out.”
Kylie laughed. “So who bought my house?”
Lulu tilted her head to the side and was quiet for a brief moment. “You know, I’m not sure actually. One day it was for sale and the next it was sold. But no one’s moved in yet. Maybe when you’re rich and famous you can buy it back from them. If you want.”
“Right, ‘cause fame and fortune are just around the corner.” Kylie rolled her eyes and began giving Lulu a tour of the bus. Well, the best tour she could give as they tripped and stumbled over all of Lily’s crap. The most upsetting thing about the hellacious mess was that she was actually starting to get used to it.
AFTER the show, Kylie introduced Mia and Lily to Lulu, who kept insisting she was going by Olivia now. Not that Kylie ever intended to actually call her that.
“So that song y’all sang at the end was pretty awesome,” her best friend said.
Mia and Lily mumbled, “Thanks,” almost in unison. And then the four girls sat in awkward silence. Until Kylie couldn’t take it anymore.
“So, um, Lu and I are going to a party but I’ll be back later.”
“Ohh, I wanna go,” Lily squealed.
Damn. The most exciting thing about going out was getting the hell away from them. Actually, she was kind of used to Lily. But five more minutes in close quarters with Mia was going to result in bloodshed. Or some serious bitch-slapping. Kylie could take it if she had to, but Lulu wasn’t one to keep her hands to herself.
“Oh-kay,” Kylie said slowly. “Um, Mia? You comin’?”
Mia smirked and made a big show of rolling her eyes. “Much as I love a good old-fashioned hillbilly hoedown, I’m going to have to pass.”
Thank you, Jesus.
“I’ll be sure and French kiss my cousin for you,” Lulu piped up. Oh hell.
Mia’s eyebrows rose nearly to her hairline.
“We should get going.” Kylie linked her arm with Lulu’s and all but dragged her off the bus as Lily bounded out behind them. “Later,” she called out to Mia, knowing she wouldn’t get an answer.
Lulu still had lots to say though. “What the fuck is her problem? Batteries go dead in her vibrator?”
Kylie snorted. “Not in front of the kids,” she said, jerking her head back towards Lily.
“Hey!” Lily whined.
Her friend stopped walking and turned to face her. “Kylie, I’m serious. That’s bullshit. You shouldn’t have to put up with that.” She watched as the girl she loved like a sister shook her head. “You need to confront that uptight fucktwat like yesterday. Find out what the hell her deal is.”
Kylie said nothing as the three of them climbed into Lulu’s car. She had a feeling she knew exactly what Mia’s problem was. What she didn’t know was whether or not she actually wanted to hear about it.
TRACE paced back and forth along the glass wall of the conference room. It was day three of negotiations with Gretchen, her “people,” and the label. So far most of the tour was scheduled, but due to her past transgressions, Gretchen was currently banned from a few of the establishments that had originally been on the itinerary.
Kylie had texted him twice asking if he had a minute to talk. He texted her back that he was in a meeting and would call her soon. That was two hours ago. She said she was going to a party with some friends near her hometown so he figured she was fine. He just wished he’d been able to call and make sure everything was okay. Screw it.
“Look, I don’t see what the hell I’m doing here. I’m not banned from anywhere so just schedule whatever places will let Gretchen in.” He smirked. “If you can find enough of them.”
“Go to hell, Corbin,” she snapped at him.
“Pretty sure I’m already there, sweetheart.” He pulled his phone out and caught Pauly’s eye. He jerked his head towards the door but his manager shook his head no. Christ. He was a grown man for fuck’s sakes. A grown man with a beautiful girl waiting for his phone call. Not to mention the fact that he felt like if he didn’t hear her sweet, soothing voice soon he was going to knock someone’s teeth out. He hadn’t had sex or a drink in weeks and the throbbing in his head was constant.
“Noel, pardon me, but I’m dealing with a family situation. You mind if I step out to make a call?”
Noel Davies glared at him but didn’t say anything. That was good enough for him. Trace stepped out into the waiting area outside the conference room. He hadn’t even meant to say a “family situation.” He’d planned to say he was dealing with a situation. No description necessary. But in a way, Kylie was a part of his family. She was the first person who stood up to him. The first one who cared enough to risk everything and face him down.
He pulled up her number on his phone, grinning at the picture of her he’d taken just after they’d made love for the last time before she left to go on tour. It was a close-up of her face, and her clear blue eyes had that sexy sleepy look he loved so much. It rang several times and then a burst of noise came through the line.
“Kylie Lou, you there?”
“Trace,” she said, sounding relieved to hear from him. Her voice was so sweet it warmed him from the inside out, but it was edged with a bit of panic too.
“Hey, baby. Sorry I couldn’t call sooner. Everything okay?”
The noise in the background that sounded like music began to fade. But other voices took its place. “Yeah….sorry…party in the middle…where.”
“I’m losin’ you, darlin’. Can you hear me?” He hated not knowing if she was okay. Maybe he’d take a drive to Oklahoma tonight. Tomorrow’s seven a.m. rehearsal be damned.
“Yeah. I’m here. Can you hear me okay?”
“I can now. You havin’ a good time? Behavin’ yourself?” He was thankful she was the kind of girl who always behaved herself. Except when she was around him.
“Yeah, um, Lily had too much to drink and she’s sick…me and Lulu…her in the house.”
“I’m losin’ you again. Sounds like you’re dealing with a situation of your own though. Guess I need to get back in this meeting with Gretchen’s people.” Oh shit. He hadn’t even told her about Gretchen yet. Panic swept over him as he realized this was probably not the ideal time to discuss it.
“Gretchen who?” Kylie asked evenly, suddenly sounding eerily calm. Great. Now he had her full at
tention and perfect reception.
“Uh, yeah. Did I forget to mention that Gretchen Gibson is co-headlining with me on the tour?”
“I don’t know. Did you forget to mention that? Or…just…not…to tell me?” The connection began to break up again. She didn’t sound mad exactly. Just a little hurt maybe. Which was worse. He’d hurt her enough when they were on tour together. He’d sincerely hoped he’d never hurt her again. Looked like that was probably out of the question.
He didn’t want to have to explain this with their connection like it was. “No, I mean, no I didn’t not want to tell you. Shit. That didn’t make sense.” He ran a hand through his hair and glanced around. A receptionist and a few people sat in the waiting area. He would much rather have this particular conversation somewhere more private. Preferably in person. “Listen, it wasn’t my choice. The label forced her on me and I was trying to do what you said. Suck it up and work like everyone else has to, you know?”
“Oh hell. Lily just got sick again. How about I call you later or tomorrow and you can tell me how you ended up on tour with the female version of yourself?”
“Ouch, Kylie Lou. Words can hurt, you know.”
She laughed and he couldn’t have kept the smile off his face if he’d wanted to. Her laugh was almost as beautiful as she was.
After they hung up, he returned to the conference room. Or his own personal hell. Whichever.
AFTER another long, stressful hour of nailing down the exact tour schedule, Trace went back to his place, a penthouse apartment downtown. Every part of him ached to go grab a drink. Or six. These past few weeks had been hell and he was desperate for some type of distraction. He held off, but just barely.
Finishing off the last of the pizza he’d had delivered the night before, he half-watched SportsCenter while keeping an eye on his phone. He’d never expected to miss that girl so much. He’d never been the kind of guy to miss anyone.
He hated not having her close enough to touch. To talk to. He needed that sweet, sassy mouth to kiss. The three bottles of Shiner Bock in his fridge called out to him. It’s just a few beers. It wasn’t enough to get drunk. Hopefully it’d ease the sting of missing his girl. The bottles clinked together as he pulled one from the fridge, making a comforting sound he was familiar with.
As he scrolled through the previous messages Kylie had sent, phone in one hand, cold bottle in the other, he nearly laughed at himself. He was pretty sure reading old text messages just to feel close to her was a pretty sad-ass move. But damn, what he wouldn’t give to have her here. To be able to take her to bed every night and wake up to that beautiful face every morning. Slow your roll, Corbin. She was nineteen years old for fuck’s sake. At nineteen he didn’t know whether he was coming or going most days, much less how he was going to spend the rest of his life. Yeah, he had plans for a future with Kylie, but he was going to make certain she got to experience whatever she wanted before she hitched her wagon to his sorry ass for life. If she even wanted to, that was.
The beer was cold, soothing like he knew it would be. He finished off the third and tossed the bottles in the trash. There. He was straight. He wasn’t itching to run to the liquor store.
When she hadn’t texted or called by midnight, he started getting ready for bed— figuring she was busy with her drunk friend. He’d been there. Well, he’d usually been the drunk friend. But he understood.
Just before he crashed out in his bed, he was hit with the desperate need to see her face. Grabbing his MacBook off his nightstand, he logged in and pulled up the blog site the promoter of her tour made the girls keep. He expected to see the same goofy pictures she’d had up for a week. But there were new ones.
There was a close-up of her face next to the face of her friend from home—at least that was who he thought it was. Last time he’d seen the girl her hair was white and pink, and now it was black, but he was pretty sure it was the same one. Next there was a picture of Kylie and that young girl on her tour—he couldn’t remember her name but her dad was Donovan Taite, a badass producer with serious pull in Nashville, LA, and probably a bunch of other places. Below that photo was a comment from someone named Brett911. He said that it was great to meet all of them tonight, and he’d linked a video he’d posted on YouTube. His profile picture was a bright yellow Porsche and Trace had the sudden urge to punch something. Hard. And to make that trip to the liquor store after all. Don’t be ridiculous, jackass. Calm the hell down.
Clicking on the link was dangerous. Who the hell knew what it could be? But when he did, he was rewarded with Kylie’s beautiful face. It was kind of dark since it was obviously recorded at night, but it was definitely her. She was laughing and grinning at someone next to her. Fuck him if she was looking at some other dude like that. His temples throbbed as he reminded himself of why he’d emptied his place of all hard liquor.
Whoever was filming must’ve backed up, or zoomed out, and thank God they did. It allowed him to see that it was the black-haired friend from home she was grinning at. They were standing on the tailgate of a jacked up Chevy Silverado. The Taite girl was with them and they were dancing and singing along to one of his songs. His newest. Rock It on My Tailgate blared through his speakers, and he couldn’t help but shake his head. At least he knew she had to be thinking about him.
Once that song ended, the opening chords of Bryce Parker’s Baby Don’t Wait came on. The girls slowed to match the rhythm of the song. He was struck dumb for a second as Kylie’s hips swayed back and forth in a way that nearly undid him. He tried hard to swallow as blood rushed in his ears. Probably because his heart was pounding at the sight of her moving like that. He didn’t know if it was the glow of the bonfire in the background lighting her up or if his feelings for her made her shine the way she did, but good night alive. He had a feeling it wasn’t just him. Whoever was filming—probably Porsche boy—zoomed straight in on her. The other girls and the truck disappeared from the frame and the only person visible was Kylie. His Kylie, dammit. Brett911 was going to get his fucking face knocked in if Trace ever came across him. Even over the blare of the music he could hear her clear voice singing the lyrics.
So baby don’t wait. Don’t wait to call me, don’t hesitate to show up at my door. Whatever I’m doin’, wherever I’m goin’, I’d rather be with you more. So baby don’t wait.
For once, Bryce Parker got something right. Trace put his computer aside and grabbed his phone off the charger. He pulled up his recent calls and touched her name. This wasn’t a text message situation he was dealing with.
“Hullo?” Kylie’s sleepy voice answered.
“Hey, pretty girl. Did I wake you?” Yes you did, dumbass.
“Mmm, I don’t mind. Everything okay?”
No, everything was sure as hell not okay. He could picture her—that messy blond hair spread out on her pillows and her soft, warm, body tangled in the covers. Covers he could hear rustling over the phone. “Just missin’ you.”
Never in his life had he come straight out and said what he was feeling. Never. Until her.
“Miss you too, Trace.”
Oh good Lord, she was trying to kill him. His name on her lips was quite possibly the hottest thing he’d ever heard. Got him every time. “Have a good time tonight?” He clicked off his lamp and settled down into his own covers.
He could hear her smiling as she spoke. “Yeah, it got kinda crazy. But for the most part it was fun. It was good to see Lu.”
Who the fuck was Lu? Oh right, her friend from back home. The girl. But what the hell did she mean by kinda crazy? His grip on the phone tightened. “Yeah, I’m pretty jealous of Lu right now. And every other asshole who got to watch you up on that tailgate tonight.” Yes, I am stalking you.
Kylie groaned. “You saw the video then.”
He chuckled softly. “Yeah, it was, uh, doing things to me. Hence the phone call in the middle of the night.”
Suddenly her voice sounded much more alert. “Hmm, what kind of things, Mr. Corbin
?”
Oh, the memories hearing her call him that brought back. Memories of when she hated him and refused to call him by his first name, making him desperate to fuck her hard and rough on every surface of the bus they shared for six torturous and glorious weeks. Not that he’d have been able to fuck the fight out of her. Or the stubbornness. There was always heat between them, at least as far as he was concerned. “Bad things, Kylie Lou. Things not appropriate for your pretty little ears.”
“I think my ears, as well as other parts of my body, might be capable of handling a lot more than you think.” Her words sent a jolt of electricity shooting straight down his spine to his dick. Her voice had lost its sleepy tenor and was just a sexy whisper, probably meant to keep the other girls on the bus from hearing her. But it was making him so hard it hurt.
“We’ll see about that.” He didn’t have to worry about anyone hearing him, but his laughter was dark and quiet all the same. There was an intimacy about this that he didn’t want to mess up. “What are you wearing right now?”
For a second she was quiet, and he hoped he hadn’t pissed her off. But when she spoke, her voice was low and thick—rekindling his belief that she needed this as much as he did. “My Hank shirt and panties. Black ones.”
“Any chance I can get you to take off the shirt for me?” Sorry, Hank.
“Well, now, that depends,” she drawled in the sweet Oklahoma accent he loved so much. “What are you going to do for me?”
Oh yeah, this was happening. “What do you want me to do?”
His girl didn’t miss a beat. “I want you to touch me, Trace. I need you to touch me.”
His dick jerked and twitched beneath the covers. He closed his eyes and pictured her there with him. Sliding his hand down, he gripped the thick length of his erection. “Baby, I need to touch you so bad. I came damn close to driving to Oklahoma tonight.”
