Page 92 of Rebooting Conor Flynn

She bent her knees and let her legs fall open. “The gratitude’s right here, baby.”

“Then that’s where I wanna be.” I slid into her, back where I belonged.

She rubbed the tattoo on my hip with the heel of her hand, and it tingled beneath her touch. I tried to stall, but I couldn’t hold back any longer. I felt 19-years old again, full of hope and happiness and cum.

When I came, I kissed her mouth, groaning against her lips. I finished with a howl, making up for my silent moans on the bus.

I rolled off her body, tucking her against my side.

Running her fingers through the hair on my chest, she whispered, “Conor Flynn, I love you. I told you before, and sometimes I wondered if that’s why you disappeared from my life.”

“I never said it to you, and I regretted it every time I thought about you.” I drew a line from her throat to the juncture of her legs. “But I loved you then, and I love you now. I don’t think I ever stopped.”

She buried her face in the crook of my neck, her hair fanning across my chest. “I didn’t either, but now I think I’ve made a mess of everything.”

“I know I’m a magical fuck, but did you forget about those pictures of Ashley and Tomo already? We have the means to shut down her story.”

“We’ll have to be careful. I really don’t want to hurt Ashley’s reputation. You know her strategy isn’t personal, right? I don’t think she’s a nasty person, but she’s a public creature who lives and dies by PR. Even though she was willing to sacrifice you...and me, I don’t want to destroy her rep. My job, which I still take very seriously, is to protect her image. And I’m going to do that.”

“Okay, you do that, Noelle. And once you find a way to protect yourself, because I don’t give a shit about Ashley, I’m gonna find someone to post these pictures on social media.”

I strolled to the balcony to retrieve our clothes and picked up my phone from the table outside. The last photo still glowed on the screen—Ashley and Tomo tangled together backstage.

Whoever sent those pictures just tossed me a grenade.

Now I just had to decide who was going to pull the pin.

***

The next day, we had a ten and half hour bus ride to Austin. We usually took off in the afternoon and traveled at night, but some genius had scheduled the concert on the night we arrived, so we had to pack up early in the morning and hit the road—and then perform.

The trip was going to be brutal, so most people planned to use some pharmaceuticals to sleep on the way. I already found out from Rhys that almost everyone had partied the night away. They might not even need their sleep aids to conk out.

Noelle and I had found our own way to party. She insisted on kicking me out of her room in the wee hours of the morning so nobody would see me doing the walk of shame down the hallway. And even then, I had to make a run for it. Because of our early departure, some of the crew never went to sleep after bar hopping. I heard them out at the pool as I slipped into my room.

My bags packed and loaded on the bus, I pulled my phone from my pocket to thumb through the pictures of Ashley and Tomo again. Posting them would solve my likeability problem—and create a new issue for Noelle.

I clicked off the photos, finished my coffee, and headed to the bus.

When I stepped on board, I already heard snoring, and I raised my eyebrows at Quinton. “You’re kidding.”

He shook his head. “Some of these guys didn’t even make it to the hotel. They crashed here after boozing.”

“I hope they got all their stuff on board last night.”

“Jermaine made sure of it.”

Quinton and I fist-bumped before I hoisted my bag upstairs. I didn’t think I could sleep after the night I spent, but I had a few songs going through my head I wanted to get down.

Jade met me on the stairs, and I made way for her to squeeze past me.

“If it isn’t the bad boy.”

“Hilarious.”

Yawning, she said, “You missed a good time last night.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” I winked at her and continued upstairs.