We’d been home from his tour for a week, and it was still another week before we’d be going out on the road once more.

I glanced down at my phone as it chimed. It was nine in the morning, and I had already received three messages from Bryce. I turned off the ringer and set it back on the nightstand before rolling over on my side and staring at the wall.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to Bryce; it was that I only wanted to talk to him. Every move I made I had him at the back of my mind. I wondered what he was doing, I wondered what he would think if he knew what I was doing. I wondered if he’d be impressed at how well I was ignoring him.

I couldn’t get dressed without thinking about him, even if I wasn’t going to see him that day. During the first five days of us being back in New York, we were practically inseparable.

Sex was the only thing either of us really wanted to do. The more we were together, the more I wanted to have sex with him. It was nearly impossible to be away, and when I was, I was constantly looking at my phone and wondering when I was going to see him again.

Though it was rough, I managed to have enough control that I didn’t let myself constantly text him, but that didn’t change the fact I was watching everything he did on social media. I looked at every new follower. I tried to keep up with the comments, and found it was impossible to read through them all and still have time to get anything done for the day.

I was down at the studio off and on, but there wasn’t as much to do as when he was on tour. David made sure I was paid well enough that I didn’t have to worry about finding another job when we weren’t on the road, but I wished I had more to do.

Then, something changed. I don’t know what it was, but I began to realize Bryce was keeping up with me as much as I was keeping up with him. It was subtle at first. He made a comment about something that happened on one of my social media accounts.

Then he made a different comment about one of my friends posts I was tagged in. I began to run into him at places that I didn’t expect him to be, and though he didn’t seem to be following me in particular, I noticed he never seemed surprised to see me.

I began to feel torn. I liked being the one doing the following—not the other way around—and I began to feel like he was keeping an eye on me. It was like he didn’t trust me not to be out with some other guy or doing my own thing.

I don’t know why, but it frustrated me. I was such a mess. One minute I wanted all of his attention, the next I didn’t feel like I could speak without him hearing.

Why shouldn’t I be allowed to hang out and doing my own thing? Why shouldn’t I be allowed to be with who I wanted to be with and when? It was my life. I didn’t need a babysitter.

But, I couldn’t bring myself to stop. Every time I thought I wanted space from him, I found myself staring at my phone and hoping he would text me. If I didn’t hear from him for even an hour, I’d begin to wonder what he was doing—and I’d grow anxious that he had somehow lost interest in me.

If my anxiety took over too much, I’d send him a text. It would be brief and always unimportant, but it’d be enough to remind him of my existence. At least, that was my goal. As always, it was never long before I’ hear back from him, with the usual questions of where I was and what I was doing.

I started to wonder what I was going to do when we were put back on tour together. We’d started out as strangers at the beginning of the last road trip, but by the time we returned we were fucking each other every night. None of it seemed healthy. I was afraid if I was too much he’d begin to push me away, and that left my stomach in knots.

But, I was afraid if I pulled back, he’d stop pursuing. I worried that he’d just find someone else who would be even more available than I was, and who’d be better in bed. I wasn’t usually insecure, but around Bryce Baxter I sure was.

Bryce could have anyone he wanted, and he knew it. I knew it. I was certain everyone in the world knew it. And, in spite of the fact he was always checking up on what I was doing, I was convinced it wouldn’t take much for him to be pushed away, perhaps forever.

The feelings of fear and doubt would come and go, just like this morning while I was lying in bed, wondering just how long I should wait before texting him back. I knew it wasn’t cool to leave him hanging, but I couldn’t help but admit I got off on the fact he was checking on me again.

He wanted to know what I was doing. He cared enough to keep an eye on me. It made me feel good—wanted. I picked up my phone to check my social media when it rang in my hand. It was him. After a moment of hesitation, I slid my finger across the screen and put my phone to my ear.

“Hello?” I tried to sound sleepy, like I wasn’t just thinking about him.

“About time I heard from you.” His reply was gruff.

I rolled my eyes. We’d always bickered back and forth, but recently it’d gotten a lot worse between us.

“I was asleep.” He didn’t need to know I’d been lying in bed daydreaming about his ass.

“Since when do you sleep in this late?”

“I sleep in later when we aren’t on the road. Not that you’d know.”

“I see.” The words hung in the air, and I waited for him to continue.

“Have a good night last night?” I asked, trying to get the conversation going.

“It was all right. Surprised you didn’t come over.”

I kicked myself on the inside. I was hoping we weren’t going to go down that road, but it was clear that was all he was going to talk about.

“I was tired. Didn’t feel like going out. I didn’t think I could close down another bar,” I said with a laugh. I hoped he would join in, but there was silence on the other end of the line.

Crickets.

“Were you out late?” I asked.

“Got back around midnight. Tried to call. Straight to voicemail.” His voice was cold, and had an accusatory tone.

“I always put my phone on silent when I go to bed. I didn’t think anything too important would happen in just a few hours, and I’m not really the person people call when they’re having an emergency anyway.” Part of me wondered why I was going through with explaining this. He should trust me enough to let me sleep without having to have my phone on.

“I see.”

I was getting the strongest impression he didn’t believe me, and it was annoying. We weren’t dating.

I assumed he hadn’t taken anyone home from the bar, though it was difficult for me to believe that. I wanted to ask him, but at the same time, I didn’t. If he told me about some little groupie he fucked, I didn’t think I’d be able to keep my cool. “Anyway, I’m glad you got a hold of me. I was just about to get up and shower.” It was time to wrap up the conversation before we got into another argument. There was tension in the air and I didn’t want any part of it.

“Are you going to the studio today?”

I hesitated answering him. I wanted to see him and didn’t at the same time. Maybe if it was just us and not a group of people to talk about it behind our backs. There was no reason for me to be down there. I’d been blowing him off as much as possible since we’d gotten back. David had told me to take some time before we were busy again, since Bryce had been behaving himself.

“Is there any point? David told me there’s not a lot I can do until we’re on the road again. He’s basically paying me to hang out until we’re ready to go.” There was silence for a few seconds, and I was beginning to think he’d hung up.

“Come.” It was more of an order than a suggestion. “I want you there.”

I felt myself stiffen. If there was one thing I hated, it was being told what to do. I didn’t care how infatuated I was with this man. “I don’t know. I’ll have to see how much time I have left when I’m done with lunch.”

“Who are you going to lunch with?” There was a harshness in his tone.

“Old friend.”

“Is it that Mitch guy always commenting on your Facebook posts?” Bryce’s voice was forceful. It was kinda hot in a commanding way, and I shook my head to get my wits back. I shouldn’t have to answer, but I didn’t want to come off as suspicious.

“I’ve known him for a long time. He wanted to grab something to eat while I’m here. It’s really not a big deal.”

“It’s not a big deal, but you weren’t going to tell me.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything because it wasn’t a big deal.” I responded in a shitty tone before I could think it through.

“You aren’t going.”

“You can’t tell me what to do.” We were practically shouting now.

“Wanna bet?”

I could practically feel him smirking at the phone.

“You don’t own me, Bryce. I’m going. I know you’re used to getting your way, but maybe you need to learn what people telling you ‘no’ feels like.” It wasn’t any of his business what I was doing. I was an adult, Mitch was my friend, and I’d have lunch with him if I fucking wanted to.

Like it or not, I was free to live my own life.

“Okay.” He laughed, but not like it was a funny joke.

It felt more like I was playing with fire. Deep down, I thought maybe I’d like to get burned.