Loving Dallas

by Caisey Quinn

  “We’re not discussing this now, not here,” I say, nodding toward the steady stream of fans pouring into the aisles.

  “After the show then?”

  “We’ll see.”

  After I’ve wrangled him over to Katie, I head back to Jase, where fans are waiting impatiently for me to take their pictures. I apologize half a dozen times and get started. But the entire time, I can feel his eyes on me. More so when I have to step closer to Jase or when Jase comes over to talk to me between pictures.

  I’m just doing my job, Dallas. Back off.

  I try to send the message telepathically to him, but judging from the hard glare he gives me when he has to leave to take the stage, the message was not received.

  “You cannot ever do that to me again.” I corner Dallas backstage after his show, having had time to grow angrier about his Neanderthal behavior. “How would you feel if I stormed into your meet-and-greets and snapped at your fans the way you went after Jase? Do you even know what could happen if you piss him off?”

  “First of all,” Dallas begins, whirling on me, “I am not afraid of him. And second of all, he was out of line. If one of my fans got out of line like that and you called her out, I’d probably sport wood for a month from that memory alone.”

  “You so do not get it. And here I thought you took this seriously.”

  He zeroes in on me with the precision of a hawk. “Oh I take it very seriously. The question is, does he?”

  “It was one night, Dallas.”

  “Bullshit. Maybe it was one night recently, but we both know it’s a hell of a lot more than that.”

  “You do not own me,” I state firmly, planting my hands on my hips. “So stop acting like you do.”

  Dallas’s chest expands and he opens his mouth, but before he can say whatever asinine thing he has planned, Jase lets out a loud guitar riff onstage and the drums take off like a thousand helicopters.

  “Come!” Dallas shouts over the din, reaching out and taking me by the elbow.

  I follow because otherwise my head is going to explode from the noise.

  Once we’re back behind the buses in a relatively quiet area, Dallas leans back against a trailer. “Look, I get why you blew me off. You’re right, it was one night and I don’t own you. But I don’t want to see you get hurt, either. How well do you know him? I mean, really know him?” He nods at the giant rendition of Jase’s face

  “I don’t know. I know a lot about him. I had to. For my job.”

  “But you don’t really know him as a person? Like you know me?”

  “Are you looking to get slapped again, Lark? Because every time you insinuate I am screwing my way into—”

  “Stop. That’s not what I meant.”

  “Then say what you mean, Dallas. Quickly.”

  “I hear him with fans. He propositions them. And Mandy says that’s why the two guys before me got kicked off the tour. Because they encroached on his female territory or some bullshit.”

  “Okay. But I heard differently. I heard they got grabby with some girls, thinking they were owed a piece of ass just because they were on this tour so he kicked them off. Either way, I just work with him. I don’t have to approve of his values. I’m not planning to date him or whatever it is you think. I’m here to do my job . . . despite what happened in Denver.”

  Dallas gives me this look, his blue eyes darken a shade, and his long, sleepy lashes lower as he blinks slow and takes a step toward me. “He treats women like objects. Like disposable playthings for his amusement. Do you know why you’re on this tour, Robyn? Do you know why you were handpicked to run this campaign?”

  I fidget with the sponsor pass around my neck. “Because I worked my ass off and I asked to be a part of it. Because I gave a kick-ass presentation that blew everyone away.”

  Dallas nods. “Maybe. But word on the street is you’re here because he requested you. Specifically.” He nods to Jase’s smirking face on the trailer. “And if he requested you, I don’t think it was your hard work that appealed to him.”

  I have paced up and down the length of Wade’s tour bus for the past hour. When he finally returns to it, he isn’t alone. A tall thin blonde and a curvy chick with hair similar to the color of mine flank him on each side.

  “Hey, Robyn. What can I do for you?” Wade whispers something to each of the girls and they walk past me onto the bus wearing matching confident smirks. Ugh. Maybe Dallas was right.

  Stop judging, Breeland. Not your business.

  “We need to talk. In private, please.”

  A few guys from Wade’s band have walked over to see what’s going on. He tells them to give us a minute so they meander off.

  “You look pretty pissed, but I can’t imagine what I possibly could’ve done to make you so angry with me.” He scratches his chin and adjusts his cowboy hat.

  “I need to know something. The truth, preferably.”

  “I’ll do my best. What do you need to know?”

  I take a deep breath and just lay it out there. Either way, it’s better to know. Even if it will sting like hell to know I didn’t land this job on merit. “Did you request me specifically to head up the tour promo?”

  Jase grins at me. “I did. Is that a problem?”

  “Yes,” I practically yell at him. “Of course it is. What the hell is wrong with you? You can’t just go around requesting women like you are King Pimp of the universe. Just because your shameless groupies fall at your feet doesn’t mean all women are fair game. I am a professional, damn it. I work really hard at my job and I wanted to be on this tour because I was excited. I was a fan of your music and I hoped partnering with Midnight Bay would be the kind of opportunity that—”

  “Whoa, darlin’. Rein it in a sec,” he says, throwing his hands up. I didn’t even realize I was charging toward him.

  “What?” I demand, wondering what in the hell he could possibly say to justify his behavior.

  His smile widens but his hazel eyes cloud over with a troubled expression. Like I hurt his feelings. Like that’s even possible.

  “I did request you, Robyn. But not for the reasons you’ve obviously assumed.”

  I take a deep breath and fold my arms across my chest. “Then why?”

  “Because you’re young and smart and driven. Because you were the only one at Midnight Bay to mention social media integration in your presentation. Those were the words I was waiting to hear. You said them. So I thought you’d be the right person for the job. You also happen to be beautiful and I wouldn’t kick you out of bed if you were interested, but that had absolutely nothing to do with my requesting you for this tour. Scout’s honor.”

  “So the comment earlier about what you’d prefer?”

  “If my teasing you made you uncomfortable, I apologize. It’s a habit I just sort of fall into when I don’t know what else to say. I’ll make an effort to cut that out where you’re concerned. It’s unprofessional and uncalled for.”

  “Well . . . thank you. I’d appreciate that.”

  I feel two inches tall and if I had one wish right now, it would be for the ground to open up and swallow me whole.

  “So . . . we good?” He nods toward his bus. “ ’Cause I got—”

  “Go. Sorry. In the future I’ll ask any questions I have without taking your head off first.”

  Jase laughs good-naturedly. “It’s fine. You’re a woman in a mostly male-dominated business. I can imagine the shit you have to put up with. My hat’s off to you.” With that, he tips his hat. “And for the record, my groupies are pretty shameless. God bless ’em.” He turns and gets onto his tour bus, leaving me shaking my head and contemplating the many ways in which I could murder Dallas Lark.

  19 | Dallas

  THE KNOCK ON THE THIN DOOR TO MY ROOM ON THE BUS IS SHARP and angry sounding. So naturally I assume it’s Mandy here to make some lewd suggestion about how I owe her my dick or something.

  I sigh and open it, pleasantly surprised to find Robyn on the ot
her side instead. My guitarist, Tyler, is standing behind her looking concerned for my well-being. I give him an I’ve-got-this nod and move aside for Robyn to come in. She blows past me without a word.

  “You okay?”

  “No. I’m not.” She shakes her head and looks off into the distance, paying more attention to the modest furnishings in the room than to me. “I confronted him. Because of what you said. And guess what?”

  Now her eyes do meet mine and I’m nervous about what I see in them. Matching glinting emeralds of hatred is what they most resemble at the moment.

  “I can’t even begin to guess.”

  “No?” Her voice rises an octave or two. “You can’t? That’s funny considering a few hours ago you were an expert on the subject.”

  “Clearly you’re upset with me.” I state the obvious because I know her well enough to know that when she’s in this mood everything I say will be fuel to her fire.

  “You think?” She purses her sexy little mouth and shakes her head at me. “I was ranting on and on about being a professional and the whole time I was acting like some stupid teenager freaking out over gossip. Because guess what, Dallas? Whoever your source is got it wrong. Jase Wade didn’t request me on this tour because he wanted to get into my panties. He requested me because of the social media pitch I gave in my presentation.”

  “Okay. Well, then I’m glad I was wrong.”

  “You’re glad you were wrong? Since when? Since when are you ever wrong, Dallas? You just decide how things are and that’s how it is, right?” She runs her hands through her tangled hair, then gapes at me. “Dead God. I said he thought he was King Pimp of the universe.”

  I fold my lips inward to keep from laughing. Laughing would be so bad right now.

  “Do not dare laugh at me, Dallas. I cannot believe you said that stuff to me. But you know what’s worse? I believed it. And do you know why?”

  Do not speak.

  In lieu of a verbal answer I shake my head.

  “I believed it because that’s how you make me feel. Like all I’m good for is getting you off when you need it. Right? Bang out a few orgasms and hey, maybe a song, too, for good measure. Good old Robyn. She’ll just take what she can get. That’s all you want me for, so of course, that must be all any other guy can see as well.” She takes these gaspy little breaths that make me hate myself.

  The urge to laugh has passed.

  “Baby, I—”

  She slaps my hand away when I reach for her. “No. No, we’re done with that. Do not touch me. You could’ve cost me my job tonight, riling me up with your jealous macho crap. And I am so done.”

  “Robyn,” I call out, pulling at her waist before she twists out of my arms. “Listen to me. That’s not how it was.”

  “How was it then? Tell me. Because I feel cheap, and used, and played. And I do not deserve that.”

  “You’re right.” I nod like a fucking bobblehead. “You don’t. I swear to God, making you feel that way was not my intention.” I sit on my bed and look up at her. Her pain is mine now, and it’s weighing heavy on my chest. I hurt her, deeply, and I’d kick my own ass if I knew how.

  “Then why, Dallas? Why say those awful things to me? Because it sure seemed like you meant them.”

  I clear my throat and give her the most honest answer that I can.

  “Because I got caught up. I was worried that he wanted you here so he could use his authority over you and pull with your company to take advantage. I should’ve just confronted him myself instead of telling you. But we used to tell each other everything and old habits are hard to break.”

  “Well, get un-caught-up. Just stay out of it from now on, okay?” She takes a shaky breath that throws me off balance. “Just stay out of my personal and professional business and worry about you.”

  “Ask me anything, Robyn. Ask me to back off, to keep my hands to myself, to stop wanting to pummel every guy who looks at you sideways. I can’t make any promises, but I can try. But please, babe, don’t ask me not to care. Because I can’t not care about you. I’ve tried. I failed. I will always care. And anytime I see someone who I think might try to hurt you in any way, I probably won’t be able to stop myself from stepping in even if you don’t want me there.”

  For a split second I see something in her eyes that makes me think she’s going to say she understands. That’s she’ll try to be patient with me because I’m a jackass and she knows I can’t help it.

  But then her expression hardens and her shoulders stiffen and she shakes her head.

  “When you get up on that stage, Dallas, I am so proud of you. I remember watching you play at dive bars and catfish weigh-ins and wherever else they would let you. I knew from the first time I saw you play that you were something special. I couldn’t wait for the rest of the world to see it. And now that they do, I am so honored to get to be a part of that. But I need you to at least respect my job even if you don’t think it’s as important as yours. I may not get up on a stage night after night, but I work really hard, too. And it would’ve been really nice if you could’ve been proud of me back.”

  “Robyn—”

  “Don’t. I acted like a psycho in front of a client tonight because I let you get in my head. That’s not okay, Dallas. Just leave me be. You focus on your career and I’ll focus on mine. Got it?”

  She doesn’t even wait for my answer.

  After she walks out, I toss a chair against the wall and watch it splinter into pieces. For the rest of the night I feel even more alone than I did before she came by to yell at me.

  She’s right. We can’t do this second-chance romance shit right now. We both have careers to focus on and neither of us can afford to get caught up in something that could cost us everything we’ve worked for.

  Just because I know she’s right doesn’t mean I have to like it.

  My phone rings sometime around sunrise. The bus isn’t moving so I assume we made it to North Carolina. Glancing over on the nightstand that’s strapped to the wall, I find my phone and see my sister’s face on the screen.

  Sitting up, I slide the bar to accept her call. “Hey, Dixie. Everything okay?”

  “Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?” I can hear the challenge in her voice. She’s pissed and she has every right to be. I’m two-for-two then where women are concerned.

  “Oh . . . I don’t know. Did you know Robyn was going to be on this tour with me?”

  My sister sighs loudly, which means yes, she did.

  “Sorry, big brother. It didn’t exactly come up and I wasn’t sure how you’d respond if I dropped it on you at the last minute. Seemed like it might be best to just let you find out on your own. Kind of like how you knew Gavin was in town and not on the unsigned artists tour with you and you kept it to yourself, I suppose.”

  She’s got me there. And now I know why she sounds pissed. “I’m sorry. It just wasn’t my truth to tell, you know?”

  “I do know. And ditto, I guess.”

  I run a hand through my hair and lean back on my headboard. “Can you tell me something else, though? Something important? Even if you think it will hurt my feelings.”

  “I can try.”

  “Am I an asshole? Be straight with me, Dix.”

  “Dallas,” she scoffs at me. “What kind of question is that?”

  “If a guy’s sister can’t call him out for being an asshole, who can?”

  “I don’t think you are—not really anyway. You might impersonate one from time to time, but I think we both know there’s more going on beneath the surface. But it doesn’t really matter what I think. Why do you ask?”

  “Do you think I’ve been terrible to Robyn?”

  Again my sister sighs. I contemplate sending her an inhaler.

  “I think you could be more up front about your feelings for her sometimes instead of pushing her away. I think whatever happened between the two of you was complicated and that it left a mark on you. You tend to go overboard sometimes trying to keep people fro
m getting too close. That can be hurtful, you know?”

  “I see. So what do you think I should do about it? Send her some flowers with a card that says, ‘Sorry for being such a dick’?”

  My sister laughs at me as if I’m kidding. I am not kidding.

  “I think you should apologize in a more meaningful way. One that says more than just sorry but lets her know that you’re going to try and do better in the future.”

  “Right. I’ll see if I can get that iced on a cake.”

  “You sound tired still. Get some sleep, Dallas.” With that my sister pretty much hangs up on me.

  I should sleep some more. The show will run late tonight. But there’s a song in my head, one Robyn inspired, so mostly I write. When I come to a lyric I can’t make fit, I pick up my guitar and try to play through it.

  “Patience isn’t enough,” Papa used to say when I’d get tired of a song I couldn’t master. He’d hand me my guitar time and time again after I’d set it aside. “Persistence is just as important. It’s what sets you apart from the quitters.”

  I’d huff and puff and pout, but I’d take the guitar and try until I got it.

  “Life is what you make, boy,” he’d tell me. “You get back what you put in. You quit on life and it will quit on you right back.”

  I don’t go back to sleep until I’ve finished the song.

  20 | Robyn

  BY THE TIME WE REACH CHARLOTTE, I HAVE COOLED DOWN CONSIDERABLY. Both from my humiliating encounter with Jase Wade and my anger at Dallas.

  Katie talks me through it as we follow behind the convoy, reminding me that it’s sweet that Dallas cares, though he could certainly demonstrate that concern in more appropriate ways. But then he wouldn’t be Dallas. After a hot shower and a good night’s sleep in the hotel, I decide it’s a new day and I’m not going to let my past cast a shadow on it.

  At least that’s the Kool-Aid I’m drinking until I see him.

  Dallas is in the middle of sound check when we arrive at the amphitheater. He’s wearing a Midnight Bay trucker hat and his black T-shirt fits just snug enough to make me jealous of how close it is to those muscles.