The Kylie Ryans Series: Girl with Guitar, Girl on Tour, Girl in Love (extended edition)

by Caisey Quinn

The night before, he’d stayed awake mostly to torture himself. He wondered if maybe, just maybe, he could live through hearing Kylie and Steve together, then he could survive anything.

  But he also knew that if he really had heard anything more than them discussing alternating time signatures, choruses, and bridges, he was going to barge into her room like a goddamn maniac and kick the shit out of Steve for hooking up with a Tailgate Twin and Kylie. In the same night, no less.

  But he hadn’t even heard flirtatious laughter. Just them writing music and playing a few chords on her guitar from time to time.

  He was pretty sure this was the confirmation he needed. Kylie Ryans and Steven Blythe weren’t a thing. Not really, anyway. He knew there was a good chance they’d slept together in the past. But he’d have to find a way to live with that. Hell, he had quite the past himself. And he knew something now, after seeing Claire Ann all lit up about her new fella, that he hadn’t realized before.

  None of it mattered. The other people, the past, the media, the fights, the ways they’d hurt each other. Those were meaningless details in the grand scheme of life. The fact of the matter was that he loved her. He still loved her and he was pretty damn certain he would always love her.

  She was still guarded though, and he’d yet to really see that ‘feel first, think second’ girl he fell in love with, but he knew she was in there. If he could just get her to come out, then he’d know for sure if she still loved him back. And he had a plan.

  Because the Kylie Ryans he knew and loved—the real her—couldn’t really contain her true feelings. They tended to shoot straight from her heart right out of her mouth.

  That was what he loved most about her.

  Or so he thought.

  When he was finished getting dressed for the show, he stepped out of his room and nearly ran right into her.

  Her tight little body was sheathed in a short silver dress that sparkled when she moved. Her long blond hair was swept to one side, and the smooth strip of her neck that was visible to him practically screamed for his mouth to explore it inch by inch.

  She looked up at him from under thick, dark lashes. Smiled at him with pouty red lips. His crotch tightened in response.

  Jesus.

  Okay, so there were some less virtuous things that he loved about her as well. But that was the point. It was everything. She was everything.

  “I was going to tell you that you looked beautiful, but you took my breath away.”

  Her eyes went wide and he winked at her. Her friend slash stylist made a small “aw” noise.

  “Um, thanks,” Kylie said softly.

  “After you, ladies.” He moved aside so they could get through.

  His heartbeat sped both at the exquisite view of her perfectly toned backside and the knowledge that his plan was either going to send her running into his arms or running in the other direction.

  There was only one way to find out.

  TRACE WAS surrounded backstage by Rae and a few of her friends. When she hugged him, he caught the faintest scent of alcohol and cigarette smoke. He sincerely hoped it was coming from her friends and not from her. Though he knew good and well that was probably wishful thinking.

  Looked like he would be pulling the dad card with her after all. Once her friends were busy with Kylie, Mia, and the Taite girl, he took her aside.

  “Hey, baby girl, can we talk a minute?”

  She looked up at him with pleading eyes. “Can it wait? I haven’t gotten to talk to Kylie in forever. And she promised to introduce me to Lily Taite!”

  He knew the feeling. He was on tour with her, living on the same bus even, and he felt like he couldn’t manage to get a word in. Between Steve, the friend from home, the assistant, and the two newest members of her entourage who had just arrived, he was starting to wonder if he ever would.

  He sighed. He’d never really been able to say no to her. “I guess so, Rae. But after the show, I’m coming to the house. Be there, okay?”

  “Yes sir,” she said with a mock salute before she practically skipped over to Kylie.

  He watched as Kylie and Rae hugged and complimented one another’s outfits and whatever else women did. Kylie was all smiles as she made introductions until her assistant came over and whispered something in her ear.

  He waited until Hannah was walking away to catch up with her. “Everything okay?”

  The woman looked slightly affronted by his accosting her. Understandably. “Everything’s fine, Mr. Corbin. Can I help you with something?”

  “You could tell me why Kylie looks like you just told her you ran over her dog, which I know you didn’t because I know she doesn’t have one.” He flashed his most charming smile. But the woman remained unfazed.

  “No dogs have been harmed that I know of. I’ll pass your concern on to Miss Ryans.”

  “Hannah,” he called out as she tried to walk around him. “I care about her, okay? Whatever she’s said about me, or whatever you think my intentions are, I can assure you, I’m not fishing for information. Just concerned. As a friend.”

  Thankfully she stopped and sighed. “Actually she hasn’t said much of anything about you to me, friendly or otherwise. But you were present when she asked me to make a trip to the bookstore for her. And I do my job. So you can guess what her reading for the evening will be.”

  Son of a bitch. He’d been so caught up in his own personal revelations about his feelings for her that he’d almost forgotten about her stepmom’s bullshit. Before he could calculate whether or not he had time to jog back to the bus and light that damn book on fire before she saw it, he caught a glimpse of Pauly and Claire Ann out of the corner of his eye.

  Judging from the way Claire Ann was standing, arms folded and face turned away from whatever Pauly was trying to tell her, they appeared to be arguing. He scratched his head. That was odd.

  When he’d gotten out of rehab, Claire Ann had gone on and on about how helpful Pauly had been. He’d asked his manager to keep an eye on his sisters and protect them from any paparazzi assholes who might come sniffing around.

  Before he could head over to them to find out what the problem was, Kylie appeared at his side. “Not to alarm you,” she began quietly, “but I think Rae might be slightly intoxicated. She reeks of booze and she’s told me she loves me about a dozen times.”

  Once again, he felt like the universe was hell-bent on interfering with his plan to confess his feelings for her. Apparently his little sister didn’t have any trouble with it though.

  “Yeah. Claire Ann thinks she’s been partying a little too hard at college. It wouldn’t be a big deal, but given our family history…well, you know.” He huffed out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. “Not like I can really say much to her. Some role model I am.”

  A gentle hand on his arm caused him to stiffen. Fucking hell her touch undid him. He had to clench his own fists to keep from reaching out and grabbing her.

  She pulled her hand back, clearly misinterpreting why he’d tensed. “I could try and talk to her.”

  Before he could tell her how much he would appreciate that, she rushed on.

  “I mean, it’s none of my business, and I know it’s not my place, but—”

  “That would be pretty great actually. I’d owe you one.”

  “No you wouldn’t. I care about Rae, too,” she said, her gaze drifting over to where the girl was laughing among her friends. One of them was an extremely tan bottle-blonde who was eye-fucking him pretty blatantly.

  Seeing Kylie narrow her eyes at the girl almost made him smile. His eyes dropped to her mouth and he remembered kissing her on stage a few weeks ago. And how pissed she’d gotten. His plan was beginning to look like a terrible idea. He decided to give her at least a little warning.

  “Hey, Kylie Lou?”

  “Hm?” She glanced up at him, seemingly lost in thought.

  “I want to change up our finale a little. Sing a different song, a new one of mine—if that’s okay with you.�
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  She sucked on her lower lip for a second and his own mouth ached to do the same. “You don’t want to sing The Other Side of Me? But this is the The Other Side of Me tour…” Her expression said that she was concerned for his mental well-being. That made two of them.

  “Just come out like normal, okay? I promise not to do anything inappropriate.”

  She arched a brow and leaned slightly closer to him. “I thought you didn’t make promises you couldn’t keep?” Her face reddened.

  He suspected she hadn’t meant to say that out loud. The grin on his face was impossible to contain. She was already slipping. He could almost see his girl underneath all that protective body armor.

  “Well, I promise not to kiss you again. Unless you tell me to.”

  She scoffed. “Trace.”

  He stepped back when the stagehands came to retrieve her.

  “Have a good show, pretty girl,” he said softly.

  The small smile she tossed him over her shoulder as she was pulled away told him she’d heard.

  “HOW YOU doin’, Atlanta?” Kylie shouted in her mic after her first few songs.

  A stagehand brought out her guitar and she grinned at the screams that greeted her as she strapped it on.

  “Hey, y’all. These damn stilettos are killing me.” She kicked off her heels and began playing Not A Nice Girl. Then she launched immediately into Live Wire.

  The crowd was insane. It was one of the biggest she’d ever played for, and it seemed as if every single person in the audience sang along with her songs.

  She forced her mind to stay in the present and give them the best show she could. But as she danced around and sang her ass off, the knowledge that Darla’s book was waiting for her on the bus, Rae was very likely developing a drinking problem, and her traitorous heart was inching closer to the surface every time she came within five feet of Trace Corbin assaulted her repeatedly.

  And her stomach was in knots about whatever he was planning for the finale.

  When she finished her set, Steven followed her offstage. “You could’ve told me she was coming,” he said low in her ear.

  She met his eyes with an apology in hers. “I didn’t know, Steven. I swear.”

  They stepped aside as the crew switched her equipment out for Trace’s.

  “It’s not a big deal or anything.” He crossed his heavily inked arms and glanced around. “Wonder if she brought lover boy along.”

  “I have no idea.” She leaned even closer to him in case Mia was nearby. “Listen, why don’t you just talk to her?”

  “Or I could have you pretend to be my girlfriend so I don’t have to face her. We could pretend to be madly in love, because that’d be the adult way to handle it.” He smirked at her. “How’s that sound to you?”

  “I’m starting to grasp what an idiot I am, okay?” She shook her head. “Learn from my mistakes. Man up and tell her how you feel.”

  “It’s not like I want to propose to her. Jesus, Ryans.”

  She smacked him playfully on the shoulder. “I know that, smartass.” She spotted Mia standing by Lily and Trace’s little sister. “Go,” she told him with a shove.

  “All right, I’m going. Wish me luck.”

  She shot him a quick thumbs up. Once he was out of sight, several fans stopped her for autographs and photos. She posed and smiled and signed for several minutes. It was fun and took her mind off all the other craziness for a while. Until a security team member came and informed her that it was time for the finale.

  Her stomach pitched forward before she took a single step. Taking several deep breaths, she did her best to steel herself for whatever was coming.

  Once she was on stage, an eruption of cheers nearly deafened her.

  Her eyes met Trace’s. He looked as nervous as she felt.

  Oh God.

  A sinking feeling hit her so hard her legs began to tremble as he helped her sit up on the tailgate on his stage.

  She could practically see Noel Davies rubbing his greedy little hands together. If Trace was going to propose to her as some type of media stunt for the label, she was going to vomit on him in front of all these people. And then she was going to tell him to go fuck himself. Surely he knew how hurtful something like that would be.

  “What are you doing?” she mouthed silently at him.

  He just winked at her. And then he turned to the crowd.

  “So, normally we close the show with a song we wrote together. You might’ve heard of it,” Trace said into his mic.

  The cheers and whistles rang out for several minutes.

  “But I’m a Georgia boy,” he began before he was interrupted by another eruption of screaming and cheering. “So I wanted to sing a new one for y’all if that’s okay.”

  When he turned back to her, his entire face was lit up. He looked so different than he’d been looking lately. Young and carefree. Excited.

  For a second, she didn’t care if it was just a publicity stunt. She was glad to be a part of something that made him so happy.

  Until he started singing.

  It wasn’t just the fact that he was literally serenading her in front of thousands of people that shook her to her core. It was the words. Each one of them sliced into her like shards of glass reopening old scars.

  There’s a girl from Oklahoma that I can’t get out of my head. Can’t seem to get her back in my arms so I put her in a song instead.

  She stared at him as the shock of it all seeped in. What. The. Fuck.

  Something was seriously wrong with him. He was clearly missing a vital chip in his brain that alerted to him to situations that would cause severe pain to others.

  She’s wild like the prairie wind that blows fast across the plains. She’s sweet like the mornin’ sun risin’ slow after a night of rain. And I did everything I could do to push her away.

  Kylie fought the stinging pinch of tears and forced her mouth not to turn down. She couldn’t figure out why would do this. She shook her head, silently begging him to please stop this, even though she knew he couldn’t. Or wouldn’t. But he was too busy singing to notice.

  But if ever there was someone ever made for someone, that girl was made for me.

  She did her best to block his words out, and when that didn’t work, she tried to pretend she was a random fan and he’d pulled her onto the stage. She told her brain that this song wasn’t about her. That there was no way a man she’d once loved with all her heart would be capable of such malicious torture and public humiliation.

  They say I have a wild streak, a fire burning in me. A fightin’ side, too much damn pride. None of them could tame me. Boy they’ve damn sure tried.

  She’s water to my fire, a lover to my fighter, and she cuts me down to size. There’s not another one like her. Man I gotta find her. ‘Cause if ever there was someone ever made for someone, that girl was made for me.

  She refused to meet his eyes as he finished his song. The ringing in her ears was finally drowning him out.

  But she did look at the audience, and they were enthralled. Trace might’ve been a heartless bastard, but he was one hell of a performer. She sucked in a deep breath and slammed those cold steel walls over her wounded heart.

  “Kiss me,” she told him when the song ended.

  “What?” Now it was his turn to be shocked.

  She nodded towards the crowd full of screaming fans. “Kiss me. That’s what they want, right? That’s all you care about—giving them a good show. So do it.”

  He flinched back like she’d slapped him.

  She hadn’t, but a part of her desperately wanted to. Hurt flashed in his eyes as if he could read her mind.

  He didn’t kiss her, so she crushed her mouth to his.

  Damn him to hell. Her anger and hurt poured out against his mouth. She bit down on his bottom lip hard enough to cause pain. She hoped it hurt.

  Once the lights went out she jerked out of his arms. She knew his mic could possibly still be on so she didn’t
say a word. She just stalked away from him without looking back.

  TRACE BROUGHt his fingers to his mouth to check for blood. He didn’t see any on his hand but he could taste a faint hint of it on his tongue.

  He’d put his heart out there in front of thousands of people and she’d stormed off. The tears in her eyes had confused him to hell and back.

  He thought maybe they’d been tears of joy. But the harder she’d fought them, the more they’d looked like tears of pain. And her teeth sinking into his lip indicated they might’ve been tears of anger. Or rage.

  Every single person in Encore Park seemed determined to get in his fucking way as he tried to find her backstage.

  People congratulated him, some clapped him on the back, a few asked for pictures with him, but he just kept plowing through the crowd.

  He caught Claire Ann’s elbow and told her he’d see her and Rae at the house in an hour or two. She nodded with a sympathetic expression, so he figured she’d seen Kylie bolt after his grand gesture.

  She’d misunderstood. That had to be it. Maybe she thought he was just putting on a show and didn’t realize he was putting his heart out there for the whole world to see. He knew she still felt something for him.

  He knew because he felt it in her eyes, in her smile. Without even consciously meaning to, he’d begun to study her—paying close attention to each small movement, each laugh. He would earn a damn degree in Kylie Ryans before this tour was over. He didn’t miss the little things anymore, like the way she angled her body towards him when he came near and then forced herself to turn away.

  He caught a glimpse of her hair and gleaming dress over by the bus, and he was just about to break into a sprint when he saw something that stopped him cold where he stood.

  Steven Blythe was leaning up next to a magnolia tree and he had Mia Montgomery in his arms. Their mouths were damn near touching. They weren’t kissing, but it clearly wasn’t innocent either.

  His blood felt like it had caught fire in his veins.

  This motherfucker was really starting to piss him off. And if Kylie was going to choose her bullshit charade of a relationship with this dick over him, then he was at least going to confront the cheating bastard. With his fists.