Owen
It had been two weeks since I’d hired Nalia and, lo and behold, things were running smoothly.
She straightened out everything with the tour bus company, got radio interviews, YouTube interviews, chats with bloggers and vloggers, and she managed to get all sorts of other appearances lined up, as well as accommodations set and reserved. She’d even done stuff I hadn’t even thought of, liking putting packing lists together for everyone. She’d gone to each of the guys’ places and helped them think about what outfits and such they wanted to wear for the tour and created lists of things each of them would need.
She kept everything organized and, as a result, everything was falling into place. She was incredible, beautiful, and sexy as hell to boot.
When I hired her, I expected help, but this had all made my life so much easier than I could have imagined. For the first time in, well, I didn't even know how long, I wasn't stressed out and worried about this tour. And, that is pretty much the only thing I could remember feeling in regards to the business side of the tour since we’d begun preparations for it—a sense of immense worry that things were gonna go wrong, that the guys would fall off the wagon and go off the rails, that we'd let our fans down, that the whole thing would turn into this gigantic, embarrassing fiasco.
But now, with Nalia's help, all of those worries had been put to rest. I finally knew that everything was going to work out like it should. This tour wasn’t just going to work out okay—it was going to be awesome. It was going to be the best tour we ever did. I just knew that the shows were going to rock, and when I say rock, I mean totally rock, tear the roof off the place kinda shit. With Nalia handling everything I'd worried about before—and handling it with such precision and efficiency—I could do what I did best, without any stress in the back of my mind. I would be able to focus purely on the music and the performance.
And it was all thanks to Nalia.
The more I thought about her, the more I felt myself being pulled to her. In fact, it was becoming more and more difficult for there to be a moment in which she wasn't running through my thoughts.
We hadn’t slept together since the first time, but I thought it would be better to not let it turn into something else or put any pressure on her. We were about to go on tour in two weeks, and I didn’t want her feeling like she was obligated to me, or that she had to be a certain way with me. And, I certainly didn’t want her to feel she had some sort of ownership over me.
At least, that’s what I was telling myself. Truthfully, I was probably protecting myself more than anything. I already felt something for her, and I didn’t want it to take hold.
It just wasn't the right time for this; we had to put the tour above everything else. That was simply the bottom line, and we had to stick to it. Women could be weird when it came to sex and relationships. I just didn’t want any drama with her being upset if fans threw their panties on stage and acted ridiculous, as we’d seen plenty of fans do in the past.
I mean, surely she must know that there would be groupies and that women were going to go wild when they saw us. It's not as if I asked for it or anything; being the lead singer of Bleeding Heart, that kind of thing just happened. I couldn't help it or prevent it, and Nalia was going to have to learn to live with it all the way around. It was going to happen to all of us, and I could only hope she was prepared to handle it.
We were finishing up a band meeting when Nalia came in to go over some last minute items. I wasn’t completely paying attention, as my thoughts kept running back to her naked in my bed. Wow...what a night that had been. I wondered if she thought about it as often as I did. I wondered if she fantasized about me the same way I fantasized about.
“Finally, guys...don’t forget condoms,” she instructed. I hadn't really paid much attention to anything else she'd been talking about up to that point, but that did grab my attention.
“Seriously. Protect yourselves. But, I’ll have extra just in case you aren’t prepared, okay? I'm sure you guys already know this, but I'm going to repeat it anyway: nobody goes bareback. I am not joking. Not even a little bit.
“In fact, it's a great way to either end up with a paternity suit in a year or to catch something nasty on the road, and I don’t need to be rushing anyone to go get treated for chlamydia. And, I don’t think I even need to mention potentially way more serious things. If you all have a shred of decency among you, you won't be wanting to pass that kind of thing on to your groupies, either. That's just not right.”
All the guys guffawed at her statement but, for some reason, I found her frankness with them—with us—a huge turn on. I guess she already knew exactly what happened on tour. I liked it.
“All right, that’s all I have for now, but will definitely have more when we’re closer to our kick off of the tour,” she assured us before dismissing us all. The guys got up, but I hung back, grabbing her by the waist before she could leave the room.
Before she could object, I pressed her back against the wall and covered her mouth with mine passionately. She kissed me back for a moment before pulling away a little.
“Let’s get together tonight,” I whispered in her ear, crushing my hips against hers. “I know it might not be right, but watching you, I don’t care. I get lonely in that big house.” I kissed her cheek.
Nalia let out a sigh and patted my chest, pushing away from my hold. “I think you’ll be just fine without me. I’m not a sleep-around kind of gal, Owen, no matter how good the sex is.
“Now, if you'll excuse me, I still have a lot of work to do and a lot of things to organize. You, of all people, know how much work is involved in putting this tour together, so I’d appreciate it if you could try not to distract me, all right? I'm here to do my job, not to play around.”
And with that, she left me alone in the room, feeling a bit like an ass and completely disappointed.
Chapter Sixteen
Nalia
I was frustrated and irritated as I left the studio. I wanted to go home with Owen more than anything. Hell, I’d been thinking about him for the last two weeks, ever since the passionate night we had spent together.
But with the two of us about to be stuck for nearly four months on a tour bus working together, trying to make everything come together on this insane schedule and doing my best to keep all of the other guys in line, and insuring that everything ran as perfectly as clockwork, it was simply a disaster waiting to happen. Surely he had to understand that? There was no way we could be professional about this and carry on any kind of illicit physical affair at the same time. It just wouldn't work.
Sure, he was interested at the moment, but I was totally convinced that it wasn’t going to last, especially once we were on tour. Owen Young was one of L.A.’s most eligible billionaire bachelors—a strikingly handsome man who oozed sex appeal. He could very likely have any woman he wanted, and I was just a poor girl from the less-than-middle-class Midwest.
I mean, let’s face it, the man was a rock star. He was accustomed to women like lingerie models, glamorous film celebrities, or sexy pop stars. Those were the types of women a man like him wanted, not just an ordinary girl like me. It was silly of me to get my hopes up and imagine anything else. Real life just wasn't like that.
He’d remember that just as soon as he went on tour and groupies were throwing themselves at him. Then where would that put me? I couldn’t afford to get attached. Not even a little.