They all smiled. A couple winked. “Hey, Emma,” they said in unison.
“They might come on kind of strong, and have personal taste issues”—Chase eyed Lane, the Hawaiian-shirt-wearer—“but they’re decent guys.”
“The kind of guys you’d let date your sister if you had one?” I asked.
Chase’s face flattened. “Hell, no.”
The guys shared a laugh with me, then Ben slid off his cowboy hat, gracing me with a serious look. “Let me get this straight, Emma. You were together with Chase back in high school?” He paused long enough for me to nod. “So you already had enough experience to know better than to get together with a guy like this?”
Chase’s head fell back, more grumbling spilling from him.
My shoulders lifted. “Well, we got to earn our way into heaven somehow.”
“I love her.” Colt clapped, cracking up. “There’s still some chick out there who isn’t under the impression Chase Lawson hung the moon. There’s hope for humanity.”
“I was just thinking I needed to take out a want ad for a new guitarist,” Chase chided, steering me toward the bus.
“Good luck with that.” Colt held out his arms. “I’m irreplaceable.”
“You boys have a nice drive. I’ll be enjoying mine minus all the nonstop noise you four make.”
“You’ll be making your own kind of noise.” Lane dodged out of Chase’s reach, flashing a toothy grin. “Just keep in mind, you’ve got a sold-out crowd to sing to tonight. Don’t go losing that suggestive baritone from whatever you two lovebirds decide to do to pass the next six hundred miles.”
“Jealousy’s a vice!” Chase hollered after them.
“So is premarital sex. Sinner!”
I couldn’t tell if it was Ben or Colt’s voice that got the last word in, but their laughs all melded together as they waved goodbye before disappearing into their bus a couple back.
“That wasn’t your everyday introduction,” I said, stopping outside the bus entrance.
“Yeah, sorry. Adulthood might have evaded every one of them, but they’d give you the shirt off their back if you needed it.” The hollows beneath his eyes were shaded from going without sleep last night, but his eyes were bright and clear. A day’s worth of stubble framed the lower half of his face, and his lips were just swollen enough to hint at what we’d been doing last night.
My lungs burned from standing this close to him. I flinched when Chase’s fingers slid through mine. “They seem great.”
“Chase!” Standing beside the luggage, Dani indicated the three bags that were mine. “Which bus do you want hers loaded onto?”
From the way Dani was referring to me, it was like I wasn’t even there, not that that was anything new. Her hair was pulled into a crisp bun, and her black skirt suit looked so well starched a wrinkle wouldn’t dare settle in.
“Mine,” Chase answered before turning to climb the bus stairs, his hand leading me along.
“Yours?” Her tone reeked of disbelief. “You’ve always ridden alone.”
“Up until now.”
Dani’s heels clacked in our direction. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
Chase paused, looking back at Dani. “Why not?”
Her eyes locked on our joined hands. “You don’t want to blur the lines between business and pleasure.” She spoke slowly, not blinking. “You two have an arrangement. Don’t forget that.”
Chase was quiet for a moment, probably thinking over what she was hinting at. We’d already blurred the lines. Big time. But only once. We could get back to the original agreement and forget last night had ever happened.
It was impossible though. No matter the past, despite the scars, Chase and I could never be near one another and stave off the desire we felt for the other. It would be the equivalent of telling your lungs to ignore air.
“She’s riding with me,” he said in a tone that boded no argument.
I followed him into the bus while Dani fired off instructions that my bags were to be loaded onto Chase’s bus.
“She likes you, doesn’t she?” I asked Chase once we were inside the bus.
He slid out of his worn leather jacket and hung it over the back of a chair. “Dani?”
I answered him with one concentrated look.
“Jealous?”
“Was I ever when all of the girls back home were throwing themselves at you?”
Chase’s eyes settled on my hip where I’d planted my hand, following the curve of my body until he reached my eyes. “You never were the jealous type.”
“So? Does she like you?”
His head shook. “No. She cares about me, but not like that. It’s purely platonic where Dani’s feelings are concerned for me.”
“How do you know? The way she acts like I’m your personal kryptonite leads me to the conclusion she’s into you.”
“She’s trying to protect me, that’s all.”
“Protect you?” I motioned at him in all his towering, built goodness. “From me?”
He snapped his fingers at my summation. “Exactly.”
“Why do you need to be protected from me?”
“The same reason you’re protecting yourself from me.” Chase stalked closer, his arms gathering me before I could dodge him. “I’ll talk with her. I’ll ask her to ease up on you. I’ll promise her you’re not going to rip my heart out and stomp on it like we both know you’re going to do.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I know.” He pulled me to him, inhaling the scent of my hair. “But you will.”
The familiar sound of heel strikes entered the bus. When I tried to unfold from his hold, Chase’s grip only tightened.
“I’m sorry to interrupt.” Dani cleared her throat as she sashayed by us, dropping her briefcase onto the table nestled against the side of the bus. “But I’m going to have to join you two since I had plans to ride with Emma this leg to go over the tour schedule.” She was firing up her laptop at the same time she was shuffling through a pile of papers with dates and times listed on them. Her eyes cut to Chase. “Besides, you’ll probably want to take the next nine hours to rest anyway. You’ve got a big night.”
“Give me a few minutes to give Em the tour.” Chase shot a thumbs-up to the driver who’d just climbed aboard and promptly sealed the door shut.
“It’s a tour bus. Not Disneyland,” Dani replied, but she didn’t put up any further argument as Chase led me deeper into the bus.
“Fridge, food, et cetera,” he said, knocking the stainless steel fridge as we moved through the kitchen area. “Help yourself to whatever. We bring a chef along for meals as needed, but don’t exactly ignore the endless drive-thrus we pass either. Basically, if you want something, help yourself. If you find yourself craving a Frosty, let Chip know and he can swing by the closest Wendy’s.” Chase pointed up front where Chip was settling into his seat.
“Your tour bus looks like the inside of a Four Seasons,” I said, studying the seating area that was so neatly arranged, I’d be afraid to relax there for fear of messing up the throw pillows or making footprints in the area rug. “Not that I know from experience what the inside of a Four Seasons looks like.”
Chase’s shoulder bumped mine. “This is nicer. From someone who’s stayed in plenty of Four Seasons.
“Television’s behind this wall. The remote there lets you access it and pretty much whatever channel you could want to watch.” Chase tapped the wall above the fireplace, but where a television could have been hiding there, I didn’t have a clue. “Bathroom is here. Plenty of room to take a shower, bath, or whatever.” He slid the door open, waving me inside.
“I can actually turn around in here without hitting my head on something.” I extended my arms, doing another spin without touching a thing. “This is slightly more spacious than my grandparents’ old motorhome.”
Chase made a face. “I had to fold in half to squeeze inside that bathroom.”
“Yeah, but i
t was fun.”
Chase slid a sheet of my hair behind my back. “It was.” His eyes lost focus for a moment. Then he moved on. “And this back here is the bedroom.” He waited for me outside of it, his mouth working when he noticed my hesitation. “Scared?”
My eyes narrowed. “Funny.”
Clearing my throat, I slid inside his room, not sure what I’d find. Half of me was expecting to find posters of half-naked women and florescent beer signs. The other half was still out on its verdict.
Instead, I found Chase’s room was similar to his room back at his house. Simple, straightforward . . . impersonal. A bed to sleep in, a closet to hang clothes in, a chair to relax in, and that was about it. No pictures, no personal touches that would make me identify this room with what I knew of Chase, no books or magazines to pass long miles and sleepless nights.
“It’s nice,” I offered when he settled beside me, an expectant look on his face.
“It’ll be nicer when you’re beside me in that bed.” His fingers brushed down my arm. “You still hog the middle? Because I’m good with either side. I’m an ambi-side sleeper.”
“There’s no such thing as an ambi-side sleeper.” My heart picked up when I focused on his bed. Our arrangement struck in private seemed so simple last night, but now, it felt anything but.
“Fine. I can sleep on the left or right. Or top. Or bottom.” His dark eyes gleamed. “I don’t care just as long as I get to be next to you.”
“We’ll work that out later.” I cleared my throat and slid behind him, out of his room.
“Looking forward to it.” He popped open one of the closets in the hall and retrieved his old guitar. “Since it sounds like you’re going to be spending the next few hours going over a schedule, I’m going to hang out in here and work on some new songs.”
My nose curled as I considered my near future with Dani the Emma Hater. “You’re kicking off a tour for your new release. What’s the hurry to put out new music?”
Chase lifted the guitar strap behind his head, and the sight of him holding a guitar tested the sturdiness of my knees. “Inspiration doesn’t follow release schedules.”
“Good luck.”
“You too,” he called back.
I found Dani stationed at the table, her weapons of scheduling and organization strewn about the table as though she were about to take on the Roman Empire singlehandedly.
“Okay, I’m here. Hit me with the hellfire that will be the next six months.” I detoured to the fridge to snag a drink. I probably needed something stronger than a sparkling water for this layover in hell. I set an extra bottle of sparkling water beside Dani. “Something to cool you down.”
“I’m freezing already. Chase keeps his tour bus so cold it’s like he’s trying to keep dead bodies from unthawing.” She extended two fingers and slowly pushed the sparkling water away.
When I caught myself about to offer to get her a coffee or a hot cocoa or a warm cup of gratitude, I bit my tongue. I twisted off the cap of my water and chugged half of it before sitting. She might have been freezing, but I was close to my boiling point.
“Let’s get this over with,” I said as I slid into the booth seat across from her.
Instead of the thick stack of paper I thought she’d be dropping in front of me, she slid a sleek, stylish phone my way. “Your current phone looked like it would malfunction if I tried uploading all of this onto it.” She patted the tower of papers before tapping a manicured nail on the large phone screen. “Every contact you could possibly need, every date and time of every event we currently have scheduled which you will be involved in, is loaded on here.” She tapped the calendar button and scrolled to a random day, selecting an event that was listed as St. Charles Children’s Hospital Gala. “You’ll find the dress code in the comments section, along with the numbers of local hair and makeup contacts should you so choose. Arrival times, transportation plans, and expected departure times are all included. I’ve even included what Chase will be wearing to each event so you’ll have the option to complement your wardrobe choice to his.”
All I could do was blink at the screen as she scrolled through event after event. “You think of everything, don’t you?”
“It’s my job to think of everything.” She tapped at her tablet then turned it toward me.
It was one of those Hollywood celebrity gossip sites. I knew that from Jesse, whose guilty pleasure was checking out the latest juicy buzz. The headline read “Chase Lawson Gets Back to His Roots,” but I didn’t read the actual article because I was too fixated on the photo of the two of us attached to it.
We were disembarking his jet the first day I’d arrived in Nashville. Chase was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, staring at me a few steps above him. There was nothing intimate about the photo at all—we weren’t even touching—but the intimacy was in the way he was looking at me. In the way I was returning that look.
My stomach caved in on itself, accepting there was no going back now. The news was out.
“That’s just one of the many articles that began cropping up yesterday.” Dani twisted her tablet around, looking like she was about to scroll to the next one, but I waved her off. It was enough to know the news was out there—I didn’t want to see every photo or headline attached to us. “You step out in public, you’ll be recognized. You have a phone conversation in an elevator, it’s going to be overheard. You have to account for every movement, every word. You’ll be scrutinized mercilessly.” She clasped her hands, speaking to me as though she were addressing Congress. “You won’t be able to wash your hands for fewer than thirty seconds without the whole world talking about how unhygienic you are. You strike up a random, totally harmless conversation with a stranger at a coffee shop, and it will be twisted until you’re made to look like a two-timing floozy.”
My hands plastered across the table, I wondered if the bus was jetting along at mach 3 from the way my stomach was reacting. “It will be okay,” I said, as much to assure Dani as myself. “I’ve stayed out of trouble my whole life and I’m a few years past the rebellion stage. They want to spin an innocent exchange, let them. I don’t care what they say about me or how much high esteem the public holds me in.”
“I don’t give a damn either, frankly.” She leaned back in her seat, pinning me to mine with her stare. “But I do care about Chase’s, and anything you do or are perceived to do will reflect directly on him.”
“You’re saying I have the ability to tarnish Chase’s reputation?” I summed up with a mutter. “Well there’s a role reversal.”
She ignored my little quip, glancing over her shoulder. “One more thing.” She blinked at me innocently. “You hurt him, and I will ruin you.”
In one seamless movement, Dani rose and walked away.
“Seems fair,” I muttered.
The next nine hours passed uneventfully. I chatted with my parents and caught up on the latest happenings. I skimmed through some back issues of Rolling Stone magazine I found stuffed in one of the cabinets. Chase and I played a few hours of cards, we ate (I might have slipped him a couple handfuls of Flamin’ Cheetos when the gustapo, a.k.a. Dani, wasn’t looking), and then we took a nap inadvertently when we fell asleep watching Brady Bunch reruns.
Chase must have woken up before me, because when I finally came to, he wasn’t stretched out on the couch beside me where he’d been. A blanket had been draped over me, and the lights were dim. Sitting up, I found the bus was parked outside some massive structure. We must have been at the stadium in Dallas.
“Chase?” My voice cracked thanks to my extended nap.
A baritone clearing of a throat came from behind me. “Mr. Lawson is backstage, meeting with VIPs right now. He asked me to let you know when you woke up.”
Twisting around, I found a giant of a man looming toward the front of the bus, dressed in all black, his skin the same ebony tone.
“Please tell me you’re on our side.” I smiled nervously.
That same deep
tenor rumbled in his chuckle. “I’m one of Mr. Lawson’s bodyguards.”
“Thank goodness, because I would surrender right now if you weren’t with us.”
“I’m afraid I don’t follow, ma’am.”
I set aside the blanket and stretched my arms above my head. “Yeah, sorry. It takes a few minutes for the delirious to wear off when I wake up. I should be talking like my typical awkward self soon.”
“If you’d like to freshen up before we go in, I’ve been instructed to escort you backstage whenever you’re ready.”
Seriously, his voice was so deep, all I could compare it to was the sound a didgeridoo made.
“Ten-four,” I said, heading back toward Chase’s room. I assumed that was where my luggage had been placed. Since Dani was the queen when it came to thinking of everything.
Another jewel in her crown—my bags had been unpacked and everything hung, folded, or stacked in closets and drawers.
After rushing to change and make some sense of my hair and makeup, I paused in front of the mirror to check my reflection. I’d gone with a short, flowy summer skirt, paired with a white eyelet top, completed by a pair of wedges that made me a whole three inches taller. My hair had a couple of dents I wasn’t able to brush out, and my makeup was, at best, a freshman attempt.
I lived in jeans and boots, ponytails and Chap-Stick. It was a rare occasion that called for getting dressed up like this, and when I found myself scrutinizing the shape of my eyebrows, I turned away from the mirror and left. The public could take me as I was and deal with it. I wasn’t going to spend eight hours a day waxing, shaping, and sculpting my body to fit a mold that served no purpose other than to look pleasing in a photograph.
“I don’t think you mentioned your name,” I said as I approached the wall of man stationed in the hallway.
“Everyone in Mr. Lawson’s crew calls me Tall Drink.”
I motioned at him. “Obviously.”
“But my mama calls me Pete, so you can call me either/or.”
“Which do you prefer?” I asked.
He motioned for me to wait in the bus as he stepped outside, scanning the area as though he were protecting a foreign diplomat. When it was clear, he waved me out. “It’s all the same to me. I’m just glad no one calls me Chicken Legs, String Bean, or Skeletor anymore.”
Fool Me Once Page 6