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“Need some help?” someone calls from behind.
I turn to see Chris. “Oh, hey Chris. I got it, but thank you.”
“Here, let me get that for you.” He grabs my bag. “Where to?”
“Just back to the bus, thanks.” I was hoping I would run into Jax in the hotel, but now I doubt that’s going to happen.
“You got it. How is the tour life treating you so far?”
“So far, so good.” We make small talk on our way to the bus and then Chris politely helps me up the stairs in my heels and hands me my bag before dashing inside the hotel. Ken returns shortly and asks me if I’m ready for my ride back to the venue. I figure I should get there early anyway in case there are any issues backstage with the media. I’ll have to wait to see Jax.
* * *
After Ken parks our bus at the venue parking lot, I begin grabbing my stuff for inside. I slip a leather crossbody bag with an iridescent chain across it over my left shoulder. After I make sure my phone is in my bag, I grab my list of attending media, ready to head out. Just as I am about to open the tour bus door, there’s a knock. Must be Harry, checking in I figure.
I’m totally wrong. There, standing in front of me in tight moto blue jeans and a fitted black T-shirt is Jax. The facial scruff that I love is gone and his face is clean shaven. His hair is freshly washed and styled.
“Jax, hi.” I’m trying not to let on my excitement.
“I was hoping I would catch you. Can I come in?”
“Um, sure,” I say. I’m worried that someone might see him, but I also want this time together more than anything, so I’ll take the risk.
“Don’t worry. I told Harry I was going to check in with you and get briefed on the interviews I have tonight. He’s at the bar having a drink with some brand. He’s trying to get me an endorsement.”
My shoulders relax. “In that case, great idea.” I was planning on finding him inside the venue to go through the list of interviews he has tonight.
“Your interviews start in an hour. First up is the music industry magazine.” Jax and I move to the surprisingly comfortable seating area. We sit so that our legs are touching and I try to concentrate. We go over all the logistics and talking points. Jax is a pro, so I’m not concerned and neither is he.
“Thanks, got it. Just one more question,” he asks, pressing his knee against me and placing his hand on top of my thigh.
“Shoot.” I place my hand on top of his as if it gives me some control over the situation, but let’s face it, I just want an excuse to touch him. If he moves his hand elsewhere, I’m going to have a really hard time with restraint.
“Is this sexy little dress for me?”
“This sexy little dress is definitely for me. But I’m glad you appreciate it. Now you better get out of here before anyone gets suspicious.” I regrettably push his hand off my leg.
“Come with me.”
Jax leads the way as we get off the bus. He steps down the stairs and turns to take my hand and help me down. Except, he’s too late. My long, thin heel gets stuck in the ridge of the step and I slip forward. Jax catches me in his arms and holds me close. If my body didn’t go limp before, it is now. How am I supposed to get my footing when I’m shaking like this? In the arms of the man I’ve dreamed about so many times? I can feel his breath on me and it’s captured mine.
We stay that way, with his arms wrapped around me and my head looking up at him. Neither one of us moves. I wonder if Jax is thinking about kissing me, too. His eyes drift to my lips, but his face remains in the same position. He has the opportunity to make a move if he wants to, and I know that against my better judgment, I will reciprocate.
This is the first test for both of us. Can we restrain this attraction between us to focus on our jobs? That’s what’s really important right now. Jax needs to prove himself as a true artist and I have to establish myself in a new industry. If we kiss now, there’s no doubt we are both going to be side-tracked for the remainder of the tour.
Jax is the first to break. He slides his hand down the small of my back and gently helps me get my footing. I’m hardly grounded, though. We both wanted more to come from that moment, and the tension between us is so thick it could fill the air in clouds. I feel silly about being disappointed because I know a kiss between us would be wrong.
“Good catch,” I say. “I guess I’m not made for walking in these heels.”
“Do you want to go change them?”
“No, I’m good. Just a little rusty.”
We’re standing between two tour buses, mine and his. They create a private alley, and this moment continues to feel just as dangerous. This isn’t over. Neither of us seems to be able to let it pass. My brain is telling me to walk away now. My body, however, is paralyzed.
“Good. Because I like looking at you in them.”
Everything goes dark except for Jax, illuminated in front of me. “Are you flirting with your publicist again, Jax? Someone might hear you.” I need to remind him of the consequences.
