He screwed up his face as though I’d asked him to remove his arm. “I don’t know, we’re outside. The hat doesn’t come off outside.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s dark, so you’re not going to get sunburned. It’s not raining. It’s not like you’re out on the range, herding cattle, and yee-hawing or whatever it is you do back home.”
He let out a long-suffering sigh and said, “I guess,” but then didn’t move.
Figuring he was leaving it up to me, I reached up and, with great care, because this was his beloved Stetson, after all, pulled the hat up and off his head, placing it on the bench beside me.
I smiled at his hat-head and wasn’t surprised when his hand came up toward his flattened hair. Even though it was crushed down, I ached to run my fingers through it to finally feel if it was as soft as it looked.
What the hell? I thought and batted his hand away, replacing it with both of my own as I twined my fingers through his curls.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
I shrugged but didn’t look into his eyes because maybe it was weird that I was playing with his hair. It was definitely weird how much I was enjoying it. “Just fixing it for you.”
“Good thing I took that quick shower after our set,” he said with a chuckle. “Otherwise you would not want to be touching my hair.”
He was probably right—the guys got pretty sweaty up on stage, between the physical exertion of playing and the hot stage lights. But the way I was feeling at that moment, I wasn’t sure if I would have cared.
Okay, no, forget it, I would have cared—that would have been gross if I’d pulled off his hat to find a sweaty and matted mess underneath. But the important thing was that I hadn’t.
My eyes dropped down to his. “Good thing,” I said, still raking my fingers through his curls, massaging his scalp and lightly scraping with my nails until his eyelids began to droop.
“God, that feels good,” he said, his voice breathy and lower than usual, bordering on slurry.
“Don’t you fall asleep on me,” I said, giving his hair a little tug in warning.
His eyes closed completely. “I won’t, but don’t stop.”
I laughed. “I feel like I’m petting a cat.”
When he started to purr, I laughed again, but after another few moments, I trailed my hands down the sides of his head and neck to rest on his shoulders.
His eyes opened slowly, and he looked blissed out, like how I felt after the spa.
“Thank you,” he said, his mouth spreading into a goofy grin. “This sounds crazy, but it’s been a long tour, and while I love the guys, none of them would play with my hair.”
That was a weird thing to say. It also made me wonder if he’d had a girlfriend he’d left behind to go on tour. “I bet they would if you asked nice,” I said, making light of it.
“Uh, no thanks,” he said.
“Do you have a girlfriend back home?” I blurted out because my demon of a mouth had caught up with me.
“No,” he said with no hesitation, which was comforting. “I did, but that’s over. Has been for a while.”
I nodded, letting the subject of past girlfriends go. It’s not like I had any sort of claim on him, but I didn’t want to be the other woman, even if only for one night. “So now you have no one to pet your hair. That’s sad.” I reached up and slid my fingers through the brown curls again, loving that he leaned into my hand. He really was like a cat.
“Well,” he drawled. “There’s you.”
My eyes slid down to meet his, and for a long moment, we looked at each other. Like we’d come to some sort of unspoken agreement, though what that agreement was, I wasn’t so sure because I wasn’t currently being kissed and that’s really what I’d come out here for.
Then, he reached up and pushed a lock of my hair back behind my ear, which I’m pretty sure is the universal hot guy body language for, ‘I’m thinking of kissing you.’
All right, so maybe we actually had agreed on the kissing thing after all.
I swallowed, the sound loud in my ears along with the crickets chirping out in the grass. Then I licked my lips, drawing the bottom one in between my teeth. His eyes drifted down to my mouth, and I had to mentally correct myself because no, that was the universal body language for ‘I’m thinking of kissing you’ which then very quickly turned into ‘get ready because I’m two seconds from kissing you.’
At first, it was just a brush of his lips against mine, which made me lean closer, like I’d just gotten the tiniest, teasing lick of an ice cream cone on a hot day and needed more. I shifted toward him and slid my arms around his neck as he took a long inhale through his nose and tilted his head, deepening the kiss.
Maybe it had been weird after all the buildup, but it sure wasn’t now. Now it was turning into everything I had hoped it would be, everything I’d been craving since I’d first met him and had singled him out as the Zen Garden member I wanted, not just because he was a rock star, or even a cowboy, but because he was him.
His warm palm rose to my nape, his fingers pressing into me as his other hand landed on my waist, tugging me closer.
It was a bit awkward on the bench with us twisted beside each other, but just as I thought this, he pulled back from the kiss, his glazed-over eyes on mine. He looked like he was about to say something, but then, like he couldn’t help himself, he came in for another kiss.
His phone buzzed in his back pocket, the interruption making him pull back again. I’d never hated technology more.
“Forget about it,” I said, planning to ignore it, hoping he would, too. Not that I would have ignored my own phone, but...
“I should check it,” he said, pulling back and reaching around to slide it out of his pocket. “My bus might be leaving without me on it.”
I fought a sigh as I watched him poke at it a few times and then shrug. “Just a reminder that we’re pulling out at one,” he said and put his phone away.
Barely a second later, and without preamble, I grabbed Ted’s neck and pulled him toward me. Not that he was complaining.
Things started to get a bit more heated, and his lips trailed along my face, toward my ear. It was almost time to put on the brakes, but it felt sooooo good; a few more minutes couldn’t hurt, right?
I angled my neck to give him more access, letting out a little hum of pleasure at the feeling of his lips on my goosebumpy skin right behind my ear.
And here I had been worried he’d be a bad kisser. The thought was laughable. Though it would have been easier to pull away if he had been. But as his big hand made its way up my body, from my waist to the side of my bra, alarms went off.
“Ted,” I said. But he either didn’t hear me or the lack of a verb kept his lips and hands on me. I repeated his name and, “We should stop.”
That he definitely heard, his lips halting on my neck, pieces of his hair tickling my cheek.
“We can’t...” I had to clear my throat before I could go on. “We shouldn’t let things get too far.”
“I know,” he muttered against my skin, giving me a last nuzzle that almost changed my mind about stopping before he pulled away.
“The guys would not appreciate a crying baby on the tour bus,” I said with a big eye roll.
He snorted, raking a hand through his hair He looked as blotchy and rumpled as I felt, though, on him, it looked adorable. It seemed so unfair that he had gotten even hotter in the last few minutes. On the other hand, I probably looked like I’d just fallen off my bike and rolled down a grassy hill. A big grassy hill.
“We should go back inside,” I said.
He nodded and with a sigh, grabbed my hand and pulled me up, so we were standing together. We slowly started walking back when he stopped in his tracks.
“What?” I asked, looking up at him. “What’s wrong?”
His eyes were on my mouth again and the next thing I knew, my back was against the warm bricks of the building, and Ted was pressed up against me, kissing me aga
in. His hands were on either side of my head, caging me in in the best way possible.
It was hot and heady, and I felt myself getting caught up in it, even though I knew I shouldn’t. But who knew when I’d see him again, I told myself. I had to make this count.
I needed this. I deserved this.
But the tiny part of my brain that knew better was getting pissed about being ignored. We needed to stop. Even though I didn’t want to. Nor did my hormones. Just a bit longer and then I’d—
“Sandy?”
Ted and I both froze.
Damn. I knew that voice.
Max.
The Unwanted Knight
“Sandy?” Max repeated not a half a second later as my eyes flew open. “Are you okay?”
Ted’s mouth left mine, but he stayed close, watching me, like he was waiting for me to react before responding.
I closed my lids for a second to process because really? Max was asking me if I was okay? I had been more than okay until a second ago when he’d decided this was any of his business.
Except he wasn’t going to give me a second.
“Sandy? What’s...are you all right there? Do you need help?”
While I appreciated that he was checking to make sure I was okay and that I wasn’t out here being violated in some way, at that moment, I could have done without the white knight routine.
I glanced up at Ted who I’d expected to come out guns a-blazing at what Max was insinuating, but he seemed more amused than anything and nodded his head toward me, leaving it up to me to deal with Max.
Perfect.
Sorry,” I mouthed up at him as I pressed my palm against his chest to move him back away from me; I needed some space to deal with this, awkward as it was. While I didn’t want any drama, if Ted had freaked out about being wrongfully accused, things would have escalated quickly; assurances from me would go further to convincing Max that I had been a willing participant.
Ted gave a little shrug, clearly understanding this wasn’t my doing and backed up a step.
I took a deep breath and came out from behind him, crossing my arms over my chest as I faced Max. “Yes, I’m fine. Ted and I had a long discussion about consent, and we’re good.”
He winced at my sarcasm, but I was not going to apologize, even if, deep down, I appreciated his concern. “What are you doing out here?” I demanded.
His eyes darted from me to Ted, and back again. “I’m sorry, I just...uh. I wanted to make sure you were okay. You seemed...earlier you were...and when you didn’t come back or answer my text...” he trailed off and then his eyes went wide for a second and I watched as the emotions crossed his face, showing that he’d just clued into the fact that I’d been acting like an idiot inside the hotel because I was coming to meet Ted and didn’t want him to know.
Ugh. Now he figures it out? Why couldn’t he have just seen us and left, with neither Ted nor I any the wiser?
“Never mind,” he said quickly, looking embarrassed, which was satisfying. Sort of. “I get it now.” He added a choked, “Sorry to interrupt.”
Then, without even letting me or Ted say anything, he abruptly turned and stalked off, muttering something that I wasn’t about to ask him to repeat.
Yeah, so that was awesome.
I was just about to suggest to Ted that we head inside when Max suddenly turned back toward us. “By the way, Sandy, our bus leaves in twenty minutes and Tony’s itching to get on the road, so I suggest you not be late. You may want to respond to his texts.”
His tone was like ice, and I had to fight off a shiver as I stood there, the weight of his judgment and disappointment pressing down on me. I wondered if I’d ever do right by him. All the headway I’d made with him had just been obliterated. In that short moment, I’d gone from confidante and (finally!) friend, back to the person he strongly disliked but had no choice but to tolerate. The one who he avoided as much as possible.
Again.
And that hurt, because I’d tried so hard to get through to him, to show him I wasn’t just a groupie wannabe with no filter. How I had earned my spot on tour and was worthy of it. But now I’d gone and ruined it all.
But something didn’t sit right. As he left, I thought: what had I done that was really so horrible? It’s not like he and I were dating, so what right did he have to be so judgy? I knew he liked Ted, so it wasn’t that. Who was he to judge if I had a little fling while on the road? It’s not like I was going behind Tony’s back and jumping one of the Wiretap guys, so what was up his ass?
My shame turned to anger as his stupid judginess dawned—he had no reason to be such a jerk to me. And he sure didn’t have a right to be mad—if anything, that was my right.
“So. What was that about?” Ted asked.
I shrugged. “No idea.”
Which may have been a half-truth because I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more going on than Max just checking to make sure Ted wasn’t taking advantage of me. Had he come out specifically to find me? And when he had, why had he interrupted? Hadn’t it been obvious I was into it? I wasn’t struggling or trying to get away from Ted.
So was he totally clueless or had he interrupted us on purpose for some reason?
Even though he’d disappeared around the corner of the hotel, I couldn’t help but stare after him, wondering what, precisely, had just happened. Because he’d actually seemed sort of surprised to have caught me with Ted.
Ted reached for his hat and plunked it down on his head, officially signaling the end of our hookup. “Did you have a relationship with him?” he asked conversationally. As though he was asking if I liked green peppers on my pizza.
I did a double-take. “Max?” I let out a snorty laugh. “That’s a good one. More like he hates my guts.” Again. Which sucked.
It was Ted’s turn to laugh. “Hates your guts? I’d say you’ve got it pretty wrong there. Like, a hundred percent wrong.”
I frowned up at him, but he just nodded toward the path that led to the front door and began walking.
I fell into step beside him as I thought about what he’d said: A hundred percent wrong? Was he saying Max had a thing for me?
No. That wasn’t possible. Max and I had finally found a truce, but only very recently. There was no way he could have feelings for me. Not to mention that he was still grieving. He was hardly in a place where he was thinking that way about anyone.
“You’ve fallen off your horse too many times, cowboy,” I said. “You should consider wearing more head protection than just that precious hat.”
He chuckled. “Fine, don’t believe me,” he said. “But I would bet this precious hat that he’s upset because he came out to find you because he wanted to be the one kissing you.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re cracked if you think that.” But even as the words were coming out of my mouth, I couldn’t help but wonder if there could be any truth to what Ted was saying.
And also, why was he so amused? I glanced over at him, and he was smiling at me. It seemed he didn’t have a jealous bone in his body. Was it too much to ask that he be even a tiny bit upset? Even though we’d agreed that this was only going to be a one-night hookup, that he wasn’t even the tiniest bit jealous was bruising my ego. Because day-um, he was a good kisser and I’d hoped he’d thought the same about me.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked.
“Like what?”
He gave me a wry smirk. “Like you want to kiss me again.”
My face heated and I hated that either he was a mind-reader or that I totally wore my heart on my sleeve or face or whatever. “Shut up.”
He put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his chest. “If it makes you feel better, I wouldn’t mind kissing you again. How do you feel about switching busses? I can tuck you into my bunk—by the time they realize it, we’ll be halfway to Texas.”
“You’re going to Reno next.”
He leaned back and looked at me. “We’re not in Reno
now?” he asked, and then winked.
“Anyway,” he said, giving me a squish into him. “I wish I had more time with you.”
“Careful there cowboy, that sounds a lot like you proposing a relationship. Strictly against the rules, if you remember.”
Ted looked around and then, without warning, leaned down and kissed me. It was nothing like before, but his lips lingered long enough that it was more than just a friendly thing. “I know,” he said after he pulled back, making me scramble to remember what he was answering. “But I like you, Sandy. I do wish we were in different circumstances. I wouldn’t mind seeing this through. Where it could go.”
“Uh, where it can go is back to school for me and to Australia for you in the fall. It could never be more than a summer fling,” I said, trying to act casual, when it felt like this thing that could have been amazing was ending before it even got started. Sure, I barely knew him, but what I did know I liked.
What I also knew was that nipping this in the bud was for the best. Even if we put the fall as an expiry date on it, when would we even see each other between now and then? What was the point of a long-distance relationship where we’d never see each other in person again?
Although sneaking into his bunk with him sounded pretty darn nice. But of course, that could never happen. I’d never do that to Tony or Nessa, or the rest of the Wiretap guys. I’d made a commitment and was determined to kick butt at my job and see it through.
So yeah, Ted and I just weren’t meant to be.
Which, I have to admit, really, really sucked.
As we walked back toward the front doors, what Max had said rolled around in my head and suddenly, something stuck out. I hadn’t gotten any texts from him or Tony. I’d never ignore a text, especially from Tony, even if I was in the middle of a make-out session.
I reached into my pocket and gasped when I found it empty.
“What’s wrong?” Ted asked.
I looked up at him. “My phone. It’s gone.”
Working for the Band Page 11
