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He wasn’t supposed to be…this.
Finally, the bartender appears. “What can I get you ladies?”
“Tequila shot, please.” This doesn’t feel like asip your drinknight. I’m celebrating. Or drowning my sorrows, knowing this is probably my last time I’ll be in a Texas bar. Me of two weeks ago would have laughed hard at that.
Ella flashes me a thumbs-up before she orders a gin and tonic, then shifts her gaze right back to me. “He keeps looking over here, you know.”
I down the shot, then suck on a lime. “Who?”
She laughs, then sips her drink. “I had a feeling, you know, after Wagon Wheel. Never seen Kyle act that way before. Morgan was convinced he was into Natasha, but…” Ella flashes me a cheeky grin. “Called it.”
I toss the lime on the counter. “I’m going to the restroom. Be right back.”
She raises a brow at my deflection but agrees with a cheery, “Okay!”
I weave through the crowd, heading toward the opening with a bucking bronco above it that I’m hoping leads to the restrooms. This place is twice the size as Wagon Wheel and even more crowded.
The heavy wooden door creaks as I push it open, revealing a three-stall restroom. There’s no line, shockingly, but there is a group of women huddled around the mirrors. I offer them a small smile as I skirt around them and walk into the first empty stall.
“It’s a sign, I’m telling you! We were listening to ‘Texas Moon’ in the car, the band played it, and now, he’shere.”
My stomach drops to my brand-new cowboy boots as I realize who they’re discussing.
“I’m going to need to drink a lot more before I consider having the confidence to pull Kyle fucking Spencer, Robin,” a female voice responds.
“Well, we’re in a bar, Annie! Let’s go!”
Lots of giggling and commotion, and then the door shuts.
“I’m not acting.”
I’m not either. The lead weight in my stomach is very real and very unpleasant.
I lean my head back against the plastic and pull in a deep breath.
It’s not that I’m concerned Kyle is going to hook up with a fan tonight. It’s how affected I am by the hypothetical possibility. The sudden crater in my chest is an uncomfortable reminder that my feelings for him have sprouted roots and seem to be flourishing like Mabel’s strawberry garden. Suddenly, I recall what she said about things growing with patience. Wonder if she was talking about me and Kyle. If she saw all along what I’m only just realizing.
Ella is no longer at the bar when I walk out of the restroom. I head for the crowd clustered toward the center of the bar instead. Straight toward the guy I’ve been stealing glances at all night. He’s talking with Morgan and Hudson, but his attention is on me.
Our eyes catch and hold as I approach.
Kyle shifts to the left, opening a spot for me right beside him.
“Everything okay?” he leans over to ask, whispering in my ear like he’s sharing a secret. “You were gone for a while.”
“I’m good. Long line in the restroom.” I try not to notice the implication behind his question—that he was paying close enough attention to notice me leave and keeping track of how long I was gone for. Try andfail.
Hudson and Morgan are talking to Ella now, leaving us to have our own private conversation. He angled toward me at some point, cutting us off from the rest of the crowd.
All I can think to say is, “I didn’t get you anything for your birthday.”
His smile is amused and a little indulgent. “I don’t need anything.”
“Do youwantanything?”
It’s not an innocuous question. It comes out all sorts of seductive, and I wish I could shove the suggestion right back in my mouth. My only focus is supposed to be whatIwant—getting Kyle to sign a contract so I can get the hell out of here and back to my life. Except I’ve given up on that, and now, I’m stuck here until the label gives up too. Waking up early every day to check my email and messages, then battling relief when I realize there’s nothing from the label.
I wait for Kyle’s response, my heart pounding so loudly in my ears that I’m not sure I’ll be able to hear his answer.
