She scowled as if I were speaking nonsense. “You are the prettiest thing between here and the Pacific. Men would die for a chance to be with you, and you turn your nose up at everyone.”
I shrugged a little. “Sometimes people connect. Sometimes they don’t.”
Except, in that short time, I’d felt more connected to him than I’d ever been with anyone before. I’d run into thousands of men in the years of touring. I’d been flirted with. Coaxed and fed a million lines, a nonstop parade of attractive men at my feet.
My whole heart and devotion had belonged to Nile the entire time. Never once had I been tempted. Never once felt a spark.
After everything that happened, the loss and the torment, I was sure the life had been stamped out of me, trampled into nothing.
Then there was Royce.
Mel rolled her eyes. “Yet he was here.”
“And he left.”
She huffed out a sound. “Maybe he connected with you enough to know you probably would have been freaking out this morning if things moved too fast. I mean, seriously. We are talkin’ about Emily Ramsey here. You bring someone up here? You’re goin’ to be all in. Hell, the poor asshole would probably have a whole album written about him.”
I scowled at her for pointing out the truth of who I was. That was the thing about your assistant being your best friend. She knew you better than you knew yourself.
“Or maybe he was just toying with me,” I said, wondering if he just wanted to see what it would take to make the good girl crack.
“Yeah, that’s probably it, Em. Most guys bring a gorgeous girl to their room, tease them a bit, and then walk away. Cock-block themselves. Sounds like some good, old-fashioned fun to me.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it? We’ll be back on the road today.”
Moving on.
Connections lost.
Just a blur of cities and faces and venues.
My stomach sank.
I knew that was a part of the problem.
Mel released a heavy sigh, catching on to my mood. “Sorry, love bug. You’re gonna find someone. Someday. Someone who means everything.”
I forced a smile. “I’m fine. I don’t need anyone.”
“Are you fine?” There she went. Calling me on my bullshit.
“I will be. I promise.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s you who needs to believe that.”FiveEmilyForty minutes later, I was being herded out of my room and down the hall toward Richard’s. Mel had dressed me in a wispy, floral tank, all straps and bare shoulders, and super-short white shorts. She’d paired it with the same wedges I’d been wearing last night.
I’d rolled my eyes at her when she’d told me they were good luck.
Carrying a tray of coffees, Mel knocked on Richard’s door before producing her own key and shoving it into the lock. She threw the door open to the suite. It was decorated the same as mine, all dark woods and marble surfaces and luxurious, rich textures, though Richard’s had a big dining table and a kitchen at the back that we used for meetings, song writing, and business.
It was our favorite place to stay when we came into town.
I think it reminded Richard of how far we’d come.
Rhys and Leif were already at the table.
Rhys was in an old holey tee, the guy as country as they came, a trucker cap on his head and a big ol’ smile on his face. Although today, that smile was filled with worry as he watched me come in.
Leif had his back to us, and he slowly swiveled. Nervously, he tapped the drumsticks that he carried with him on the table. Brown eyes keen, sincere, and concerned.
“Hey, guys,” I offered warily with a tiny wave of my hand as if it were a gesture of surrender, guilt grabbing hold.
“Em-Girl. How’s it, sweetness?” Rhys asked in his southern way, rocking back and tucking his muscled, tattooed arms behind his head. “You caught us a bit off guard last night. You good, baby girl?”
His voice was pure care, his expression telling me he was gonna have my back, no matter what. Rhys was Richard’s oldest friend, treated me like his baby sister, as protective as he was playful.
Careless and fierce.
Not a whole lot mattered to him except for the very few things that mattered most.
Family and music.
He treated the rest of life as if it was nothing but a big joke.
I blinked and tried to swallow around gratitude and unease. “Yeah. I’m . . . I just got a splittin’ headache, and I needed to get some air. I knew you all could cover for me just fine.”
Awesome.
There I went. Spoutin’ a few more lies.
Rhys cracked a grin. “We all have bad days, love. Look at our poor Leif here. Guy has one every show,” he razzed, smirking at Leif.
Leif rolled his eyes, which always seemed to smolder. The guy was wearing a tank and shredded jeans, his lean body muscled out from banging on drums all day and all night. Richard had stumbled upon Leif playing drums for a failing heavy metal band and had snatched him up after that band fell apart.