by Caisey Quinn
“Just a sec,” Kylie shouted back.
“Trace, the guys outside said something about—”
“Trace Corbin!” a high-pitched female voice squealed. “Oh my God! Oh my God! I can’t believe you’re here! We heard you might be! That’s why we came! Can we please get a picture with you?”
Normally, Kylie would’ve rolled her eyes at the redhead and her friends. But she was almost grateful for the interruption, so she just stepped back and made room for them to get into the picture. “Here, I’ll take it,” she offered. The girl handed her a phone and Kylie took the picture of Trace with each of his arms wrapped around two girls. For a second, she couldn’t stop staring at the image on the hot pink encased iPhone. This was Trace. This was who he wanted to be. Not some guy chilling with her on Friday nights at the farm.
She returned the phone but the girls weren’t done. Not even close.
They were fawning all over Trace, asking him to sign everything from their phones to their boobs. Kylie shook her head. “I have to do this radio interview,” she told him, unsure if he could hear her over the music and the girls.
“Okay,” he answered as he signed the ass of some blond girl’s jeans. “We’ll talk when you’re done.”
By the time she’d finished her interview the place was packed. She couldn’t see Trace anywhere in the crowd. She excused herself from the table where Mia and Lily were still chatting up the radio host and made her way to the bar. Shoving through sweaty bodies was not her idea of a fun night. When she finally made it, she still hadn’t found him. A decent looking clean-cut guy in a yellow polo shirt was sitting on the stool next to where she stood.
“Hey, can I borrow this for a sec?” she asked, gesturing to his stool.
He took a long pull from his bottle of Budweiser and turned to her. “Hm, well, I’m using it right now. What do you need it for?”
She gave her best flirty grin. “I can see that, darlin’. I’m just trying to find my…friend. He disappeared on me.”
Yellow Shirt leered at her. “Well I’m here now. I’m sure your friend will be just fine on his own.”
Oh for the love of bacon. Why did guys have to be so damned obnoxious?
“You know what, never mind.” She turned to find another opening where she could maybe see a little better. Just as she turned to walk away, a hand grabbed her arm, yanking her backward.
“Don’t be like that, sweetheart. Stay, relax. I’ll buy you a drink while you wait for your friend.”
“No, thank you,” Kylie said through clenched teeth. She tried to jerk her arm from Yellow Shirt’s grip but he wasn’t letting go. Suddenly the crowd seemed to be surging towards the bar and she couldn’t breathe. Or move.
“Hey, buddy, the lady said no thanks,” a guy said from behind her. She half-hoped it would be Trace but it wasn’t. It was a heavyset man in overalls.
“Mind your own business,” the guy holding her said. His voice was no longer friendly but practically a growl. “About that drink—”
Kylie didn’t let him finish. She grabbed the glass of whiskey Overalls was drinking and splashed it into Yellow Shirt’s face. “I said no thank you.” She yanked her arm back and leaned close to overalls. “I’ll buy you another,” she promised, reaching into her pocket to grab what little bit of cash she carried.
“You fucking bitch,” Yellow Shirt shouted in her face. Before she got the money out, a fist swung by her head and Overalls had laid Yellow Shirt out. She ducked as the shouting began. Someone shoved her and she nearly fell on her ass.
“Guess they don’t teach you college boys how to talk to ladies,” Overalls said as he stood.
“Kylie!” someone shouted. Probably Mia. Or Lily. She wasn’t sure.
The next thing she knew, Trace was wrapping his arms around her and shielding her from the madness. Yellow Shirt was back up, and apparently he had friends. Two other guys stood on either side of him and they all looked ready to murder someone.
“What the hell is going on here?” Trace demanded.
“He wanted to buy me a drink, I declined, and–”
“And he grabbed her,” Overalls broke in.
“Who grabbed her?” Trace said, turning to glare at Yellow Shirt and his friends. Kylie saw the veins throbbing in his neck. This was not a good sign.
“No one. Forget it. Let’s just go.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and tugged. Hard.
“One in the yella,” Overalls so helpfully offered.
Trace broke her grip and cocked his fist. Before she even had time to yell at him to stop, he’d cracked the other guy in the mouth. One of Yellow Shirt’s friends swung at Trace and missed, grazing Overalls. Overalls grabbed the guy and shoved him roughly against the bar.
“Fight!” someone shouted, and that was the last thing she heard before she saw the black T-shirt pulled taut over the broad chest of a bouncer blocking her vision.
“Break it up!” the muscle-covered man shouted. She was shoved a few more times before uniformed officers converged on them. The bouncer had Trace wrapped in a bear hug. Kylie felt tears stinging in her eyes at the sight of him looking so angry and being held back. This was all her fault. The media and the label were going to give him so much hell. All because of her. Because whatever band was playing obviously thought this was a time to be funny, they struck up a song she knew was called Read Me My Rights. Awesome.
“It wasn’t them,” Overalls was shouting to the taller of the two male cops. “It was him.” He pointed at Yellow Shirt and his friends. Two of them were bleeding. Trace wasn’t. This does not look good.
“Let’s take this outside,” the shorter, stockier officer said. He looked like he’d just gotten out of the military and was itching to kick some ass himself. Kylie followed the bouncer and the officers as Trace, Overalls, Yellow Shirt, and his friends were guided out the back exit. She could practically hear the phones recording the whole thing. “Get the hell out of here,” the cop shouted at a guy with an expensive-looking camera who was waiting by the back exit. He left, but not before firing off a few shots of all of them.
Kylie stood close to Trace’s side. He wrapped an arm around her and she looked up. His expression was calm but she could still see his jaw clenching and his pulse throbbing in his neck.
“Okay, folks. So what the hell happened in there?” the taller cop asked. Yellow Shirt and his friends piped up right away, saying they were attacked for no reason. Trace’s grip tightened on her as they waited for them to finish.
“Wait a minute. Not all at once.” The officer said a few things into a blaring speaker on his shoulder and pointed at Kylie. “You. Blondie. What happened in there?”
She took a deep breath, sure her voice would shake. She wasn’t scared of cops and had always managed to charm her way right out of traffic tickets and even a few underage drinking incidents back during the days of field parties in high school. But she was terrified for Trace. An arrest would probably get his tour canceled and he’d be dropped from Capital Letter Records before either of them could blink. “Um, I asked to borrow his chair.” She paused to point at Yellow Shirt. “And he got rude about it. He grabbed my arm and I threw a drink in his face so he’d let go.” She glanced at Overalls. He was just a good ol’ cornbread-fed country boy. No need to get him in trouble just for trying to help. “He told the guy to settle down, and the next thing I knew, punches were being thrown every which way. Trace tried to break it up but it just got worse.” Because he punched the dude in the face.
The tall cop rubbed his eyes. “Okay. That sound about right?” He glanced over at Yellow Shirt and his friends. They mumbled a few things she couldn’t make out but no one outright called her a liar. The cop nodded. “Good. Anyone want to press charges?”
Yellow Shirt opened his mouth but one of his friends shook his head and said something in his ear.
“All right then. It’s the end of my shift and I’m not in the mood to fill out a shit-ton of paperwork at the moment. But if we
have to come back, or if any officers have to come back tonight because of any of you, I’ll make sure each and every one of you spends the rest of the night in lock-up. Clear?”
Everyone nodded as the officer made a point of making eye contact with each of them. Even Trace seemed subdued.
“Okay, get the hell out of my sight then.”
The younger guys ambled off down the alley. Overalls shook Trace’s hand and winked at Kylie. “You don’t have to buy me another drink, sweetheart. Pleasure was all mine.”
The taller officer made his way over to them. “Hey, folks. Sorry for the hassle back there. This place is in an odd spot. College kids and townies don’t always mix well. Not the first fight we’ve broken up tonight.”
Trace nodded and shook his hand as well. “No problem, officer. Just doing your job.”
“Yeah, uh. About that.” The man coughed into his hand. Kylie felt her nerves winding up all over again. “So, my girlfriend is a big fan and I hate to ask but—”
Trace cut him off with warm laughter. “Sure, man. You got a pen?”
Relief washed over her as she watched Trace sign his name on the small pad of paper the cop handed him.
Once the officers left, Kylie looked up at Trace. “That could’ve been really bad. I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry? Kylie, the only person that could’ve been really bad for was you. You’re the one just starting out. An arrest record is not something that draws in labels.”
“Trace, you told me that Capital said any more trouble and they’d be done with you.”
He leaned forward, backing her up against the brick building and bracing one arm beside her head. She shivered when he placed his other hand on her waist. “Babe, there are other labels. I’d live. I’m just sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me.”
“I was looking for you,” she said, annoyed at how small her voice was.
He leaned down to kiss her on the head. “I’m here now.”
She wanted to ask about what the pap had said. Wanted to ask what the hell he was doing chatting it up with Gretchen instead of watching her show. More than any of that, she wanted to ask if they were going to talk about her saying she loved him and him not saying it back. But their relationship didn’t always allow for long, drawn out question and answer sessions. And thank the Powers That Be he wasn’t currently under arrest. So she stood on her tiptoes and pressed her mouth to his.
When the kiss ended, much too soon for her liking, Trace looked her in the eyes. “I know there’s been a lot going on and we have a lot to talk about. But I’ll see you next week in Nashville, okay? We’ll have dinner again and talk about…everything.”
“Trace, I checked your schedule. That’s a lot of extra driving—”
“Hey, stop that. There’s nothing that can keep me from being there. I’ll be at your last show, Kylie Lou. That’s a promise.”
“DO eyes deceive me, or is that Kylie I-break-into-private-rooms-in-bars Ryans?” The voice was male. And familiar.
She turned to see a dark-haired tatted-up guy with bright blue eyes walking towards her. One either side of him was two other guys she’d never seen before.
“Who’s that?” Mia asked from beside her.
“Dang, Ryans. You know all the hot boys,” Lily declared.
Kylie grinned when she recognized him. Chicago had been a bust. Hardly anyone had shown up to see them. To add insult to injury, she’d seen more than one website blasting the news of Trace’s near arrest today alone. A familiar face was exactly what she needed. “Steven Hero-For-a-Night Blythe. What the heck are you doing in Chicago?” Kylie squealed as she gave him a hug.
“He can be my hero for a night,” Lily mumbled under her breath. Kylie discreetly jammed an elbow into her ribs once Steven released her.
“You’re not the only one on tour, you know,” he said, stepping back from their hug. “ ‘Cept you got a sponsor and a cool bus, and we cram into my shitty van.”
Kylie laughed. “Y’all playin’ somewhere tonight? Can we come?”
Steven grinned. “We’re at Martyr’s tonight if you ladies want to catch the show. We’re heading there now.” He nodded up the strip. “But, um, maybe lose your stalkerazzi first.” He jerked his head to the other side of the street where a man in a black shirt was trying to look casual despite the giant camera hanging around his neck.
“Great.” Kylie rolled her eyes and made sure to turn her back to the creepo. “Sorry, I should have introduced y’all. Steven, this is Mia Montgomery and Lily Taite,” she said, gesturing to each of them.
“Hey. Steven Blythe,” he drawled, shaking each of their hands. Kylie didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on Mia. Boy was such a player. But it was still nice to see someone she knew. Or sort of knew anyways. “This is Chris McGhenis. He’s our lead singer.” The tall, muscular blond guy stepped forward and nodded. “And my cousin, BJ. He plays the drums.” BJ was short and slender and had more piercings in his ears than Kylie did.
“Nice to meet y’all,” Kylie said, nodding at the other two before returning her attention to Steven. “Hey, what happened to the other guy? Ben something?”
Steven pulled a face and gave a slight shake of his head. “Decided life on the road wasn’t for him. Crazy bastard got married. So Chris here took his place.”
“Ah, gotcha.” Out of the corner of her eye Kylie saw the photographer crossing the street, coming closer to them. “Let’s go before this guy gets any more photos of us.”
“Yeah, I’d rather your boyfriend not punch me again.” Steven laughed, but his tone was serious.
“Sorry about that.” Kylie rolled her eyes. “I’m not sure he’d really care much anymore. He’s got his hands full at the moment.”
Steven side-eyed her as they walked. “Yeah, I heard he was on tour with Gretchen Gibson. She’s a piece of work.”
“More like a piece of trash,” Mia muttered.
Kylie glanced over to where Mia was. Were they on the same side about something for once? Or did Mia just hate everyone equally?
Lily was behind them, chatting up BJ and Chris like they’d asked for her life story.
“It’s not just her. The whole dating while on the road on separate tours thing is just…hard.”
“I bet,” Steven said, nodding like he understood. “I mean, that’s kind of why I don’t date. I know I can’t be anyone’s boyfriend right now. Hell, I barely know what zip code I’m going to be in from one day to the next.”
“Finally, someone speaks sense,” Mia said, shooting a pointed look at Kylie. As much as Kylie hated to admit it, she was probably right. But what she had with Trace was…different. She couldn’t explain it. But doing all of this without having him to share it with would seem strange. Every goal she reached would be an empty victory if he wasn’t there cheering her on. Believing in her. Supporting her. Maybe even loving her. One day. A girl could dream.
“I try,” Steven said as he stopped walking. “Okay, here we are. Y’all don’t have to pay the cover. I’ll just tell them you’re with us. Here.” He handed Mia the guitar case he’d been carrying. “Now you’re roadies.”
“Ugh,” Mia groaned under the weight and shoved the case back at him. “I’d rather pay the cover.”
Steven laughed, his bright eyes gleaming. “I’ll take care of it. Guys should always pay on the first date anyways.”
“This definitely isn’t a date,” Mia informed him, reaching into her pocket for what Kylie presumed was money.
Steven smirked at her just before he nodded at the man at the door. Mia glared back. They were all permitted inside without paying the cover.
Once they’d found a seat and the guys had taken the stage, Kylie arched a brow at Mia. “So, what do you think of Steven?” Judging from the heated exchange she’d just witnessed, she’d be willing to bet there was a mutual attraction forming.
Mia lowered herself into the seat between her and Lily. “Seems about as arrogant and obnoxious as the rest of �
��em.” She ordered a beer and sighed. “Tattoos are kind of hot though.”
“Agreed,” Lily piped up with a sigh. “And how sexy are the other two? I could write a whole album about the drummer’s eyes.”
Mia snorted in perfect time with Kylie’s eye roll. “Jesus, Lily. You just made me throw up in my mouth.”
Kylie was still smiling at Mia’s comment as she ordered Cokes for her and Lily.
Hero for a Night began rocking out a Johnny Cash cover. Shitty mood or not, Kylie barely fought the urge to jump up and dance. “They’re great, right?” she said, nodding her head to the beat.
“They’re okay.” Mia took her beer from the waitress, practically downed it in one swallow, and signaled for another.
“Dude, maybe slow down a bit. For someone not into Steven, he sure does seem to be getting you all hot and bothered.”
Mia shot her a dirty look but said nothing as the band played on. The next song was catchy but in an odd way. The lyrics were familiar, but they were playing them at a slower pace than she was used to. “Is this a rap song?” she asked the two girls at her table.
Lily nodded. “It’s Bruno Mars. They just country-fied it.”
Kylie watched as the crowd began filling the area in front of the band. Damn, they were really good. If they weren’t signed, how in the world did she stand a chance? She sipped her drink and tried not to worry about it. But a nagging thought kept returning. Was Mia right? Was the only reason she was getting any attention or respect in the industry because of Trace?
Steven stepped up to one of the mics and his words interrupted her. “We’d like to play something new we’ve been working on. Hope y’all enjoy it.”
The drums tingled to life and Chris’s hypnotic voice began singing about the pain of losing the prettiest girl in the world.
Kylie was mesmerized. She couldn’t wait to tell Trace how good they were. Maybe he had some connections and could hook them up with a manager and maybe even his label. Or maybe not. His label sounded kind of shady the more she learned about it.