Page 8

Seven

Isaac

C limbing on the tour bus, I can’t get the sound of Jensen’s voice out of my head. Deep, smooth, and sexy.

He was definitely flirting with me. There are times I lie to myself and pretend a straight guy is into me for the fun of it, but by the end of the evening, it was obvious.

Whether he knows it or not. He was flirting with me.

Lola drops onto the couch next to Rio, who is already lounging back with the TV on. He didn’t go to the after-party, it seems. Not that I would have noticed. My attention was elsewhere.

Our bus is gigantic. There’s a couch and a couple of recliners, a small kitchenette, four bunks for the band, and a room in the back for me. It’s almost unbelievable how massive it is.

Instead of hanging with the band in the main area, I move toward my room at the back and close the door behind me. I play it off like I’m just tired, but really, I want to unwind and decompress by myself.

Once alone, I toss my hat on the hook and shuck off my jeans and shirt. Down to my boxer briefs, I crawl into my bed and collapse against the pillows. With my phone in my hand, I scroll mindlessly. And before long, I end up doing exactly what I knew I would.

I pull up his text message. It’s the one I sent myself, of course, but I stare at it anyway.

There’s no time to hook up with him tonight. The bus is already fired up and ready to go. But if there’s any chance I could end up wrapped up in those meaty thighs somewhere in the future, I’d like to make that happen.

Thanks again for coming to the show.

My finger hovers over the send button, but I hesitate. Am I being too desperate? Too clingy? He’s going to think I’m a loser if I text him already.

I’ll wait until tomorrow. Or what is the rule? Three days?

Instead, I open a private browser on my phone and settle on some tried-and-true visual stimulation. Then I reach into my briefs and wrap a hand around my cock. It relieves the stress in my body after a long night.

It’s no six-and-a-half-foot daddy, and it doesn’t rev my creative engine, but it still gets the job done.

By the time I wake up, we’re in Salt Lake City. Our show isn’t until tomorrow, so the crew can get everything set up, which means I have a day off. The moment I wake up, I think about texting Jensen. Did he go back to Austin? Did he sleep with that woman last night? If I had stayed longer, could he and I?—

What the fuck has gotten into me?

I stay in bed as long as I can. I figure I need the rest after last night. Around noon, I finally get up. My phone has messages from the tour manager and Rio. Just because there’s no show tonight doesn’t mean I’m off. I still have to meet with my marketing team and agent about brand endorsements. They want me in an ad for jeans, not my songs, me . We’re not shooting that until next month, but there’s still stuff to be coordinated.

I take a quick shower after getting up. Then I find Lola on the couch outside my room.

“Hey, I texted you. We’re all going out for lunch if you want to come,” she says casually.

“Fuck yeah, I’m starving.”

I pull on my boots and hide my hair under a ball cap as we step off the bus together. A black car waits for us as we climb in. As soon as my ass hits the seat of the SUV, my phone buzzes in my back pocket.

Assuming it’s just my agent, I pull it out and swipe it open.

It was great hanging out with you last night.

My brain takes a moment to catch up with itself. I stare at his message too long before it finally kicks in. Jensen.

Oh shit.

My mouth tugs into a smile as I type out my response.

Had a blast. I don’t think your friend had as much fun, though.

I bite my bottom lip and wonder if I overstepped. I don’t know how close they are or if I’ve offended him by bringing her up.

She had other plans for the evening, but she’s fine.

Other plans? Instantly I wonder if that woman would have rather spent those two hours horizontal with him instead of talking to me. I don’t like the visual, so I push it aside.

You headed home today?

Yeah. At the airport now.

We just made it to SLC today.

You have another show tonight?

Tomorrow.

Nice. Busy guy.

Very. But it’s a good busy.

Yeah. I bet it is.

The show really was amazing. You’re a natural.

I promise I’m not just saying that.

“What’s got you smiling like that?” Lola asks from the seat beside me.

“Nothing,” I mutter as I hide my phone from her.

“Wouldn’t happen to be that tall stranger I saw you talking to last night, would it?” She gives me a haughty smirk.

“Maybe,” I mumble quietly.

“Please don’t tell me you’re fucking around with married men.”

I let out a gasp as I turn to her with offense. “When have I ever?”

“Never that I know of, but that girl on his arm looked pretty cozy at his side.”

“They were just friends,” I argue.

“Good,” she says. “And you’re texting him because…”

“Because he was fun to talk to, Mom .”

Without responding, she rests her head on my shoulder. “Just be careful. I happen to love you, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

I softly pet her hair and kiss her on the head. “I love you too, but I promise, I’m being careful.”

We arrive at a diner, and Lola and I climb out of the SUV. They seat us at a table in the back, and when I pick up the menu to browse, my phone buzzes again.

God, I was being a neurotic fan, wasn’t I?

Shit, I’m sorry.

Forget I said anything.

I’m actually not a fan at all.

I chuckle to myself.

Thank fuck.

What a relief.

I prefer talking to guys who don’t actually like me.

My cheeks start to burn when I hit send and realize that the last text was far too revealing. Why did I say that? He’s going to freak out. He’s going to realize I’m not texting him as a friend. He’s going to know everything.

The typing bubbles pop up, and turmoil boils inside me. Biting my lip, I wait for his reply.

Well, that’s too bad. Because I do like you.

My heart hammers wildly in my chest. I feel like a teenager, staring at his message while my insides do somersaults. I just met this guy last night. Why am I acting like such a kid?

Because he’s hot. He’s so fucking hot.

And we had real chemistry.

“Earth to Theo.” I look up from my phone to find Lola staring at me with a look of exasperation. Then I notice the woman standing to my left with an apron on and a notepad in her hand.

“Oh shit, sorry. I’ll uh…have a Coke and a cheeseburger, please.”

“Everything on it?” the woman asks, sounding annoyed.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She scribbles something down and walks away. When I glance at Lola, she looks in shock.

“Wow, you got it bad.”

“Okay, but if you saw how cute this last text was, you’d be in a daze too.” I bite my lip as I read it again.

She doesn’t look as excited. The skepticism in her eyes kinda bums me out.

“You’re a celebrity now, Theo. People love you, but you need to be careful.”

“I am being careful,” I say, trying to brush her off. I’m a little annoyed that she’s trying to rain on my parade right now. I found a tall, beautiful man who wants to flirt with me. Let me live.

When I take too long to respond, Jensen texts again.

Too much?

Not at all.

Maybe I’m feeling rebellious, or maybe his last text has me feeling bold. But I type out something a little crazy.

You should come to my show tomorrow.

I continue to chew on my lip as I wait for his response. It’s wild that I’m asking a guy I just met yesterday to fly out to Utah to see me after just two days. What am I thinking will happen?

I know what I want to happen. Does he?

No matter how many times I tell myself and Lola that I’m being careful, I can see my own behavior plain as day. I’m not being careful at all. In fact, I’m being downright fucking reckless.

Are you serious?

Fuck. I went too far. I made it awkward.

I mean, sure. If you want.

You’ve probably got work and a life

and you can’t just drop everything to come hang out with me again.

I’ll be there.

I have to cover my smile with my own hand as Lola scrolls on her phone across the table.

“Don’t even try to hide it, lover boy. They can see you grinning from the parking lot.”

“He’s coming to the show tomorrow,” I murmur behind my hand.

“I figured as much,” she replies flatly. “Just text Jill and tell her to save you a ticket. He can pick it up at the will call.”

“You’re not mad at me?” I ask, propping my chin on my hand and gazing at her in the opposite seat.

She drops her phone. “No, but if he outs you or hurts you, I’m going to find him and cut his nuts off and wear them as a necklace.” She nods at my phone. “Text him that.”

“I will.”

Are you sure?

I know it’s last minute.

We can hang out again, right?

Yes. Definitely.

I don’t think there’s going to be any fancy guys in suits this time,

so we can just go do our own thing.

Perfect.

I can cover the flight too.

Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine.

Awesome.

Your tickets will be at the will call.

Should I tell them one or two?

My knee is bouncing wildly under the table. If he says two, then I’ll know he’s just a fan and not interested in me in that way. I can live with that…I guess. Not what I want, but I’ll deal with it. Just to get to see him and soak in all of his hotness would be enough for me.

But if he says one, then I’ll know he wants to be alone with me.

One.

The single text practically pulses on the screen. I’m never the guy to reconsider moving too fast. If I had my way, I would have dragged his tall ass all the way onto that tour bus last night without a second thought.

So what’s with the fucking butterflies? What on earth has gotten into me?

Then I guess that means I’ll see you tomorrow.

See you tomorrow.