I almost choke on my water. But—thank the stars—I manage to keep drinking long enough to make him wait.
“Weird,” I say.
“Huh.”
I chuckle and lean back enough to take in the wary squint of his eyes above his scruff. His five o’clock shadow is hours past curfew. And I kinda like it.
The rest of the room is buzzing with conversation, and Ash and Millie are currently doing karaoke on the big screen, so I can be honest with him. In fact, Ineedto be honest with him.
It doesn’t make you vulnerable. You aren’t opening up yourself to someone who could hurt you by telling him how to do a job that will help you do your job better,I tell myself.
“I’m sure your mix was good, but I’m not used to earpieces. I’m not used to touring at all. That concert in Sugar Maplemonths ago was the first time I’d performed in front of a crowd since the Georgia State Fair—before I even had braces.”
Patty’s amber eyes meet mine, and something in them shifts.
“So I’ve heard,” he says.
I hold his gaze, waiting for him to give me more, because these three-word answers aren’t gonna cut it if we’re working together for the next six months. When Patty talks next, it feels like he’s pulling the words from his throat.
“It’s tough getting used to life on tour. I’ll get custom earpieces rushed so we have them within a week.”
“Where do you even get custom earpieces?”
“I know a guy.”
“How?”
He pauses. “College.”
I pause, but that’s all he says.
“Where’d you go?” I ask, even though I know the answer thanks to Ash. He presses his lips together, a flicker of hesitation showing. “Come to think of it, I didn’t do a background check on you. I had Manny run ‘em on everyone else. That would probably be easiest for both of us, considering how painful speaking is for you.”
He flares his nostrils, and his tongue shifts inside his cheek like he’s trying to clean his mouth of something distasteful.
“New England Conservatory of Music.”
He stops, like he actually thinks I’m going to let this end here.
“Cool. I’ll have Manny fill me in on the rest,” I say. I turn and am about to walk away when I feel his hand wrap around my upper arm.
I roll my lips together to hide my smile. I’m still in my concert outfit thanks to Cassie Jo and her camera, so that means my arms are bare, and the heat from Patty’s hand makes me almost shiver.
When he gives a gentle tug, I let the movement spin me around.
“Why does this matter to you?” he asks.
His question lands sharper than I expect, a little hook under my ribs. I don’t know why it bothers me, but it does. I shift my weight, glance away, like breaking eye contact will break the pull between us.
It doesn’t.
“You’re one of the most important people to this tour’s success. We both saw that tonight. I can’t perform without you in my ear. We don’t have to be friends or bare our souls, but if I can’t trust you off the stage, I won’t trust you on it.”
The muscles in his wide jaw tense. “You need my resumé, Princess. Not my story.”
I bite down on my frustration. Of course he’d rather keep me at arm’s length. That’s his whole thing, isn’t it? Walls up. Doors locked. Alarm system blaring.
“We’re back to name calling?” I say, tilting my head like I’m unbothered. Like his deflection doesn’t make my fingers itch to grab hold of something real.
