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“Fine, deal. Now, c’mon, pretend you love me.” I grab her hand as I spy Eve leaning against the will-call counter. She’s wearing a lavender sun dress with cut-outs on the sides. Her silky blonde hair is tied in a neat braid.
“Vinny!” she squeals when she sees me. Before I can say something back, she ricochets toward me, jumping into my unwilling arms. I catch her on a reflex and stumble back. Lyndsey grabs my elbow.
“I’m so happy to see you,” she mutters on my cheek. She smells like citrus, and she’s so soft. I push the thoughts away; I need to be firm.
“It’s great to see you, too,” I mumble before setting her gently on the ground.
Eve shoots a look at Lyndsey. “And who are you?”
“I’m the tour manager,” Lyndsey says.
I elbow her side and mouth, “Please help.”
She straightens her spine and grabs my hand. “And, uh, Vinny’s girlfriend,” she grits through her teeth.
Eve’s demeanor quickly shifts. “His what?!” she shrieks.
Lyndsey nods. “Yeah, I mean, I started this tour, and I … couldn’t resist him,” Lyndsey stutters. Even I can tell she’s lying. Eve looks skeptical.
“Oh, look, Lyndsey! You were right, you left your keys behind the Will-Call counter!” I lie and elbow Lyndsey she catches on.
“Oh, yep!” Together, we walk behind the counter, and I yank her down so we’re kneeling out of Eve’s line of sight.
“Kiss me,” I whisper. Lyndsey looks at me like I asked her to give me a kidney.
“Why?” she hisses back.
“Eve’s not buying it. Please? I’ll do your laundry for the whole tour. I’ll pay you!”
“You don’t have to pay me, dumb ass!” Lyndsey hisses back.
Before I can reply, she grabs the side of my face and plants a kiss on my lips. My knees turn to jelly. To my surprise, Lyndsey kisses me back. She slips her tongue into my mouth and threads her fingers through my hair. I let out an involuntary groan. When we finally pull apart, we’re both blushing, but no one’s face is as red as Eve’s, who looks like she’s about to explode.
“How fucking could you?!” Eve howls.
“Eve, I mean, we’re not together. We broke up, remember?”
“Oh, I remember, and I refuse to accept it! I’m not the one who gets dumped,” Eve shoots back, her eyes darkening.
“No one got dumped. I was trying to let you down easy,” I clarify.
“Well, if you’re letting me down easy, how come you let me come all this way?”
“I didn’t! You didn’t text me you were coming to the show!”
“I did!”
“No, Eve. You didn’t—” I fish my phone out of my pocket to show her. A text pops up on my screen from when I was on my run.
Eve: Great news, baby! I’ll be at the Philly show tonight. I can’t wait to see you :-)
It had only just come through—fucking venue cell service.
“Shit. Eve, I’m so sorry. I just saw this. Eve. We’re broken up. We’re done. I mean, you can still come to the show tonight as a fan,” I say. I didn’t want to turn her away at the door.
Eve laughed humorlessly. “You’re a piece of shit, you know that? All my friends warned me about you! They said you’re a womanizing dickwad who uses women to feed your petty, ancient ego. But I said, ‘No. He’s not like that.’ I guess I was wrong.” Eve turned on her heel and stormed toward the door.
I jog to catch up with her, leaving Lyndsey behind. The lobby is massive, and the first fans are starting to file in.
