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“That was nice of him,” she concedes. “I sent a thank you.”
“Good. Now let me tell you my news.”
“What?”
“Dawson asked if I’d like to record a song with him when we’re done with the tour.”
“Oh, Shelby! That’s wonderful.” In a lower voice, she adds, “I see the gossip sites are trying to link you two romantically.”
“Shoot. Really?”
“Shelby, you’re not…are you?”
“No. Jeez.”
“Well, it wouldn’t be the worst thing. Look what he did for Glenna Wilson’s career.”
I pull the phone away and stare at it for a second. Did she really just say that? “Are you drunk? I wouldn’t sleep with that producer to win Roadhouse. Why the fuck would I do it now?”
“Shelby! Language!”
“Fuck that. I can’t believe you’d even suggest—”
“I was kidding. Calm down.”
Kidding my ass.
“I need to go. Rooster and I have plans.”
She sighs. “Please. Guard your heart.”
“You’re the only one hurting my heart right now.”
“Don’t say that. You know I love you.”
“Yeah, I know. Night, Momma.”
I click the end call button and contemplate tossing my phone out the window.
Expecting to find Rooster still across the room, I force a smile on my face and spin around.
He’s right in front of me.
I jolt back a step.
In his plain black T-shirt, jeans and bare feet, he’s absolutely mouthwatering.
My gaze travels up to his face again.
He’s not smiling.
And those aren’t his smoldering “I want to eat your pussy” eyes either.
“You scared me. I thought you were over there.” I jut my chin toward the small chair.
“You sounded…unhappy. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Is she upset I’m visiting you?”
I stare down at my phone and the notification that I already have a text from my mother. Dammit. Instead of reading it, I turn it off and set it on one of the nightstands.
“Honestly?”
He reaches for my hands. “I always want you to be honest with me.”
Shame—that shouldn’t be mine in the first place—trickles down my spine. How the hell do I explain her specific brand of crazy? “She’d prefer I don’t let myself get distracted…with a relationship…and blow the tour or any other opportunities.”
“Huh.” He tips his head to the side. “And here I thought Lynn liked me.”
“Oh, she likes you. As a person. Just not as a boyfriend for her daughter right now.” I blow out a breath. Shoot, this is embarrassing to talk about. And yet, Rooster’s the only person I feel comfortable talking to about everything. “She has it in her head that I’m…that I’ll get so twitterpated over you, I’ll drop everything and become your baby-making slave and blow off the career she’s worked so hard for me to have.”
He stares at me for a few blinks. “Twitterpated?”
“So crazy in love you can’t think straight.” I squint at him. “Didn’t you ever watch Bambi?”
“The kid’s movie?”
“Yeah.” I stomp my foot on the carpet. “Thumper the bunny? Flower? None of that’s ringin’ a bell?”
A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Bambi is bullshit. A wise old buck is more likely to spar with another male deer than save him from a forest fire. Even if it is his son.”
“Aha, so you have seen it!”
He flicks his gaze toward the ceiling. “I may have been in the room when Chance and Alexa watched it at Z’s house. By the way, it’s not a toddler-appropriate movie. The two of them bawled their little eyes out. And Uncle Teller explaining to them that “venison is delicious” didn’t help the situation. A fun time was not had by all.”
I double over laughing until tears roll down my cheeks.
When I finally have control of myself, I straighten.
Rooster’s grinning. “Glad I could cheer you up.” He works his jaw from side to side. “And I needed a second to digest the rest of what you said.”
The lightness in my heart turns to lead.
“First, I don’t want a slave. Baby-making or otherwise. Second, you’re the one who works hard. Your success belongs to you. No one else.”
The instant need to defend my mother burns hot. “You don’t understand. She’s sacrificed—”
“Maybe I don’t know every detail, Shelby. But I’ve watched you bust your ass. If your mom gave up her singing career, that’s not on you.”
My temper spikes. “You’re talking over me and not listening.”
He slips on a patient expression. “I’m listening.”
“It’s been the two of us for a long time now. She’s just protective.” The words feel wrong as they roll off my tongue.
“She shouldn’t try to live vicariously through you.”
“She’s not,” I protest, even though my heart’s whispering in agreement.Chapter Forty-TwoRooster
Waking up next to Shelby needs to happen more often.
Like every damn morning.
I can’t remember ever having the urge to watch a woman sleep. Usually, I’m praying they disappear in the middle of the night and I’m relieved to wake up alone.
If Shelby ever vanishes in the middle of the night, there’s a good chance I’ll burn the city to the ground trying to find her.
