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“Don’t even start, man,” I muttered.
“I didn’t say a word,” he replied, amused. Fucking idiot. The last thing I needed right now was his fucking arrogant attitude. “So, you and Micah have been spending a bit of time together.”
“Yeah? Could say the same about you,” I replied.
“Hey, no need to be so defensive, cuz. I’m just trying to be friendly. You know, make conversation. Being civil and all that.”
Bullshit. With Harry, he always had an agenda—one that usually involved winding me up.
I didn’t reply, refusing to fall into whatever trap he was trying to set for me. Instead, I reached for the radio and turned it up. I kept my eyes on the road, ignoring his chuckling. My hands clenched the wheel as I struggled to contain the anger that was bubbling inside me. Harry wasn’t helping, but it was myself I was pissed at.
See, it wasn’t just the management thing with Micah. In fact, that probably had little to do with it. She was four years younger than me. That was huge. I didn’t do girlfriends. I’d never had a serious relationship in my life, and she was so young and impressionable. But there was something different about her. I woke up thinking about her. She was the last thing I thought about when I closed my eyes at night.
When she sang, it was like she was singing only for me. Watching the words leave her lips drove me crazy, because all I could think about was how they would taste, how they would feel.
And all kissing her had done was make me want her even more.
***
Less than two hours later, we pulled into a small motel a hundred miles from Vegas in a pissy little town called Pinson Creek. We had two shows there, so we’d decided to fork out the cash for a few rooms. I was looking forward to sleeping in a real bed and having a shower—considering I hadn’t had one for two days.
Besides, I needed time to think about shit and I couldn’t do that with her around. I couldn’t think straight at all when she was in the same room as me.
“Gotta be at the bar by nine, so do your own thing and meet me out here at eight thirty,” I muttered.
“Are you going to let us know who’s bunking with who? I don’t mind sharing with Micah,” Harry said. He grinned at me as his arm threaded around her shoulder.
She shifted uncomfortably, shooting me a look.
“You four will share. Micah will have her own room and so will I.”
“Why do we have to share while you two get your own rooms?” Harry argued.
“Because she’s the only fucking female and I’m your fucking manager,” I growled. I stalked off before he could respond. The bell above the door rang as I walked into the tiny office, alerting the attendant sitting behind the desk to my presence.
He didn’t look up. I stood there for two minutes. Still nothing. He continued to flip through his magazine.
“Sorry—if you’re too busy we can go elsewhere,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
“No you won’t. We’re the only motel in a hundred miles.”
Fucking little shit.
“Look, I’ve had a hell of a day. All I want to do is pay for three fucking rooms, take a shower, and not have to put up with any more shit. Is that too much to ask?”
He glanced up, his expression disinterested.
Well, at least I have his attention.
“ID and registration details. And we only have two rooms available.”
“Fine,” I said, gritting my teeth. Looks like I’ll be sleeping in the van. Digging through my wallet, I slapped my ID down on the counter. So much for a long, hot shower and a good night’s sleep.
I walked back over to where the guys were standing around waiting for me. I threw a key at Harry, and the other at Micah. Turning around, I opened the door of the van.
“What are you doing?” asked Micah. The guys had wandered off, leaving us alone. She stared at me, her brow furrowed. “You’re staying in there?”
“They only had two rooms,” I muttered. “It’s fine. I’m good in here.”
