by Zoe York
“You’re the tour hottie.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m sorry about that, of course, but it’s quite a brilliant move, really.”
He didn’t want to be a hottie for anyone other than her. “And if that shifts into a rumour that you’re having an affair with your bodyguard?”
“They won’t get that from the pictures.”
He snorted. In his peripheral vision, Jackie winced.
Liana swivelled her head back and forth between them. “Really? He’s just walking behind me.”
Jackie pressed her lips together and shook her head. “I dunno. I’m heading over to the arena. You got anything on the schedule today?”
Liana looked at her phone. “A radio call-in at noon. That’s it.”
“All right. Good luck.”
Dean watched, suddenly furious with himself, as Jackie left them alone.
Liana crawled across the bed and held out her hands for him.
This was a bad idea. He still took her into his arms and let her kiss him. God, she smelled good. He breathed her in, a rough inhale followed by an even rougher exhale.
He hadn’t seen this coming, because he was an amateur.
“What’s wrong?”
“You need a professional security team.”
She laughed gently. “You are a professional.”
“You need people that understand the industry.”
“You don’t think they’ll get the same treatment from fans and the media?”
“I have no idea what they’ll get.” His skin crawled with the reminder of all that he didn’t understand. “I need to talk to Zander.”
She frowned at him. “Okay. But you can talk to me, too.”
Clearly he couldn’t. “You don’t think this is a big deal.”
“Because it’s not!”
“Time will tell, won’t it?” He was getting madder now. Not at her, but just in general. He paced away from her, turning so she didn’t see the look on his face.
* * *
— —
* * *
Liana couldn’t believe her ears. “You’re overreacting.”
“Maybe.” But when he turned back, there was a weird tightness to his jaw, and his eyes—normally bottomless pools of calm—were dark and stormy.
“What is this really about?”
“I need to go.” He took a deep breath, avoiding her gaze. “Text me if you need to go somewhere unexpectedly. Otherwise I’ll be back at the next timing on the itinerary.”
She bit back her retort, because she needed to think this through before pushing him for something he clearly was having second thoughts about.
A day effing late, buddy.
Instead she just shook her head. “Okay.”
He sighed.
Yeah, she’d said it in the way that clearly meant it was not okay, but he was being ridiculous. And it wasn’t okay. But it was still his not-okay call to make. “I’ll see you later?”
He just nodded and walked slowly to the door, still wound tighter than her grandma’s curlers.
Men.
She grabbed her phone and called Hope. As she waited for her best friend to answer, she took a sip of the coffee he’d brought her.
Stupid men.
And that’s how she opened the conversation as soon as Hope answered. “Why do men suck so much?”
“Umm…I don’t know.”
“Ryan isn’t stupid?”
“Not generally, no.”
“Damn it.”
“What happened?”
Liana scowled and took a sip of her coffee. “I slept with Dean.”
“Ah. Well, they can’t all be great.”
“No! He was—” She stopped herself. “That’s not the problem. That’s the backstory.”
“Oh. So he was…”
Incredible. Right up until she proved to be too complicated, too public, too much. “There were some pretty innocuous pictures of us printed this morning. Just him walking beside me, but I sort of outed him as part of my entourage last night, and now it’s a thing and he’s pissed.”
“Oh. Shoot.” Hope’s voice immediately went from teasing to understanding. “Yeah, that would be hard for Ryan, too. These Pine Harbour guys are private. I’m sure if you just talk about it, he’ll come around to understanding that’s just the industry.”
“I tried that! He stormed out.”
“Well, maybe it’ll take him more than a New York minute to get used to the idea of sleeping with a celebrity.” Hope hesitated, then softened her voice even further. “Or maybe it’s not meant to be.”
That hurt, right in Liana’s chest. A red-hot, stabbing poker kind of hurt. Was Dean just yet another short-lived affair?
Was that all she got, forever and ever?
That’s what you let him think you wanted. Well she’d lied.
To herself, to him…
Damn it. She blinked away a suspicious wetness from her eyes because no, she wasn’t crying. Not over a guy she’d just kissed a few times and slept with once.
She wasn’t that kind of girl anymore.
“Liana?”
“Yeah.” God, her voice sounded small.
“Oh, sweetie.”
Shit, now she was actually crying. “It’s fine,” she said through a sniffle.
“It’s not. Damn it, I’ll kill him.”
“It’s not his fault.”
“You really like him.”
“I do,” she sobbed. “And I told him it was no big deal. I told myself I wouldn’t try to complicate this with feelings.”
“Well that was stupid. Everyone has feelings.”
“I just wanted it to be simple.”
“Love rarely is.”
“I didn’t say anything about love,” she snapped, and Hope laughed gently.
“I know. But liking someone…that’s really just a test run, isn’t it? To see if it might grow into more?”
“But we know better than to think…” She trailed off. Except Hope had found true love. And it had been rocky as hell. “What made you take a chance on Ryan?”
Hope didn’t answer right away, and Liana pressed the phone closer to her ear. So hard it hurt, but she needed to hear the answer—if it was the answer she thought it might be. “Because when I looked at him, and when he looked at me, the world felt lighter. I’d been alone for so long, and he’d been through so much, but we could be a refuge for each other. Does that make sense?”
Liana nodded before remembering Hope couldn’t see her. “Yeah.”
“Doesn’t mean it was easy.”
Another useless nod. “Right.”
Liana didn’t know all the details, but she knew that after Hope had fallen in love with Ryan, she’d left Pine Harbour for a period of time. If you love someone, set them free… And it wasn’t until she returned that they finally admitted just how much they needed each other.
But Liana didn’t need Dean.
This wasn’t like that.
She didn’t need anyone. She shoved the tears off her face with the heel of her hand. “I gotta go.”
“Don’t do anything rash,” Hope said. “Give him time. These men…they’re so independent, so tough, but they’re bred to be fearless. And that’s stupid, because we all have fears. Give him time to wrap his head around whatever’s going on, and I bet he’ll come back to you. He’s a good guy.”
He was.
And she wouldn’t do anything rash.
Not yet.
Chapter Nineteen
HER show that night was incredible.
Raw and bittersweet, but from the tweets Dean was following, people were calling it her best set yet.
It blew his mind that there were people out there in the crowd who’d followed the tour for the entire leg. Bought tickets to show after show, some to blog about it, some because they were die-hard fans.
But those people knew her better than anyone, really, and they knew there was something different tonight.
Because he was
an ass.
She hadn’t looked at him since he’d left her room that morning. The band all knew she was pissed at him, and at least Jackie had figured out why, so she wasn’t talking to him, either.
He’d talked to Zander after he left Liana’s room and got an ass-kicking he rightly deserved. But Zander’s simple instructions— “Make it right, you idiot. And learn some social media basics this afternoon, for the love of all that is holy”—were easier given than followed.
Before West had clued in that Liana was mad at Dean, he’d been more than willing to help. So now Dean had Twitter, Instagram and Facebook apps on his phone, and followed Liana from all of those places.
He wasn’t a complete moron—none of the three accounts had similar information on them, so he hopefully wouldn’t be found out as Arm Guy. They were generic accounts, totally locked down, and disconnected from his personal details in every way.
He felt like a stalker, but a stalker with more social media context than he had a day before, so the creepy factor would have to stay for a bit.
From where he stood in the wings, he watched her performance and Twitter, back and forth. For the live, in-the-moment stalking, Twitter was where it was at, he’d decided. Although the Instagram pictures of her…
Jeez, she was gorgeous.
He’d had her in his arms for what felt like a nanosecond. Not nearly long enough.
And he’d let her go at the first hiccup.
Well, he hadn’t let her go, exactly. He’d just stepped back.
They’d reconnect after a cooling off period. He’d done this rodeo enough times to know that a little break was often a good thing. Usually his relationships didn’t burn this hot, this fast, but all the lessons he’d learned over the years still applied.
Distance and boundaries. That’s what they needed. So when it ended, neither of them got hurt.
He thought about what Liana had told him about getting over Track. He’d never had a breakup like that.
But then again, nobody else had ever turned him into a creepy stalker, either. And distance…who was he kidding?
Not himself. He wasn’t that obtuse. The only reason they had distance between them right now was because he’d pissed off Liana. She had him at arm’s-length because he’d bruised her trust in him. If she gave him another chance, he’d be whatever she wanted.
As the lights came down on her first of two sold-out shows in Memphis, the crowd roared, and he stepped into the shadows.
When she came off the stage, she waved down Brad, the tour manager. Dean couldn’t make out what she was telling him, but once they talked, she turned to her band and had a quick conversation with them while Brad started talking rapidly into his radio headset.
The band went back on stage, and a song that Dean had only heard once before started playing. It was a party anthem she’d covered on her third album, and usually she didn’t do covers in her concerts.
“Deep Ain’t It All Cracked Up To Be” was a snarly, mocking call-to-arms for women not to give a fuck about what was expected of them. In life, and in relationships.
Well, damn.
* * *
— —
* * *
Damn, but Liana felt good belting out that cover. Her legs burned from dancing in heels for the last two hours, she was sure that her t-shirt was sticky and gross by now, but under the lights and in front of thousands of people who just wanted to see her sing, she felt like the queen Dean had told her she was just the day before.
As she hit the last high note and slowly waved good night to Memphis, she pulled all the love from the arena right to her chest and rubbed it against her skin. “Good night,” she whispered into the mic, smiling as they gave her one last deafening round of applause.
Yes. Thank you. Yes. She dropped to her knees as the lights cut out, and waved off West when he came forward to help her. She was fine.
Wiped.
Completely exhausted. But totally happy with how that had gone.
She’d practically bled for them, and they’d eaten it up.
Dean’s kisses had spurred her to some excellent performances. Then she’d struggled, and he’d been a rock that she’d desperately wanted, too.
But tonight?
Tonight she’d reminded herself of something incredibly important. She didn’t need him. She just needed herself—open and vulnerable, as scary as that was. She needed to feel.
She didn’t need a rock. A rock was great for hiding behind. But nothing spectacular happened from the shadows.
She pushed herself up and gave Jackie a high-five as a roadie stripped her of her mic and her in-ear monitor.
“You up for meeting some fans?” Brad asked as she strode off stage.
Dean was standing near the exit to the backstage hallway. She caught his gaze for a second, then nodded to her tour manager. “Yes, definitely. Just need to change.”
She swept into the hallway, Dean falling into step behind her. They didn’t exchange any words, and when she got to her dressing room, he took up station outside without saying anything.
Inside, she leaned back against the door and closed her eyes.
Staying strong was easier said than done. She wanted to shake him. She might not need him for anything, but she still wanted him.
She rubbed her hand against her chest. Ew. Sticky.
A shower helped. Instead of doing her hair again, she towel-dried it and did a quick braid. Light makeup, new clothes, and she was ready to meet some fans.
Dean was right where she’d left him.
“Ready?” he asked gruffly, and she nodded.
The shower had washed away some of her righteous indignation, too, so she gave him a gentle smile. “Let’s do this.”
It wasn’t a full-on after party, but there were a bunch of VIP backstage pass holders, so the arena staff had put out snacks and Coke.
One wall was covered in step and repeat banner, her name scrawled across it, and Brad pointed her to a spot two-thirds of the way down the wall. Dean moved off to the side, watching as the fans took turns having pictures taken with her.
She tried to ignore him, and at first it was easier, but about halfway through the line, one young girl kept sneaking looks over at him, and after she reached Liana and they had a quick hug and a nice photo, she hesitated.
“What is it, sweetie?” Liana asked, already knowing the answer.
“Is that Arm Guy?”
She raised her eyebrows anyway. “It is! You want to meet him?” Ha. Take that, Dean. But she wouldn’t push it too far. “No pictures, though, okay?”
“Okay,” the girl whispered.
Oh, honey. No forearms were worth that level of excitement. Not even when they were attached to someone as awesome as Dean. Because even someone as awesome as Dean was fallible and human, and the forearms totally distracted girls of all ages from that reality.
She caught his attention and beckoned him over.
“This is Dean, part of my security team.” She smiled sweetly as she shifted her attention to the new celebrity. “Arm Guy, this is Kaylie. She’s a big fan.”
To his credit, he didn’t even blink. “Nice to meet you, Kaylie.” He held out his hand, and when she giggled, he extended his arm and she slid in next to him for a half-hug. “You can call me Dean.”
“Okay,” the girl giggled.
“Do you want a picture?” he offered gruffly, and Liana’s heart squeezed.
“Umm…Liana said they weren’t allowed.” But oh, Kaylie’s eyes were begging that yes, she very much did want a photo together.
“Well, that was very nice of her,” he said, sliding his gaze Liana’s way for a split second. “But I think for you, we can make an exception.”
“Okay. Wow. Thank you.” They rearranged so Kaylie was in the middle, and took a picture of the three of them. Then Dean stepped out of the way so Liana could carry on with the photos, and Kaylie followed.
Another fan moved over to talk to Dean as the tail end of t
he group wrapped up with Liana, and when she was done, he was still deep in conversation with that woman and her husband, Kaylie long gone.
She smiled to herself and went to find a plate of veggies and dip.
“That was interesting,” Jackie said as she came up behind her.
Liana turned and shrugged. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“The looks are back. So you guys had a fight for what, twelve hours?”
“It wasn’t a fight exactly.”
“What was it?”
She took a deep breath. “Regret, I think.”
“Ah. Well, I know all about that.”
Liana winced. “Still not talking to Andrew?”
“Not talking to you about it, either.”
“But you came over to me,” she laughed.
“Yeah. To talk about you and Dean. You weren’t clever enough to keep it a secret.”
“We thought we were.”
Jackie shrugged. “He’s good for you, though. Like in a not-secret way.”
“Oh, no. Regret, remember? He’s not like that.”
She was starting to think that very few men were the forever kind of guys.
Besides, she didn’t want one of those. She had a forever kind of career, and fantastic shoes. A really nice house with a big walk-in closet. She was good.
“Mm-hmm.” Jackie twisted around, facing Liana as Dean excused himself and headed their way. “Sure thing. Whatever. Anyway, I’m heading back to my room to text Andrew an invitation for angry sex. That’s your little gimme of sharing. In return, I expect you to talk things out with the super nice hottie who can’t stop looking at you. Deal? Good. Deal.”
And then she was gone, and he was in front of her.
“Hey.”
“I’m ready to head back to the hotel,” she said.
“Want to do a final spin around the room and say goodbye to anyone?”
Yes, yes she did. “You learn quickly.”
He shrugged. “Sometimes.”
He trailed behind her as she made her goodbyes, and when they stepped outside, there was a car waiting for them. He held the door, waiting for her to get settled before he went around to the other side.