My breath left with Wolf when he exited the room, but I know better than to call after him. He played it off like I didn’t hurt him, but I saw the pang of emotion in his eyes when I told him I needed to shield my heart from him.
What did he expect? What did he want me to expect?
Confusion consumes me as I rush from the bus to the main counter of the hotel in Gilford, New Hampshire to check us in, Crawley trailing behind me. I haven’t done shit all afternoon, and I’m going to be sorry for it if anything goes wrong.
After giving George, the man at the front desk, the booking information and my ID, he taps away on his screen. I watch his face change, and my heart sinks as he opens his mouth to speak. “I’m sorry, Miss Cassidy. It looks like your reservation got bumped.”
“You’ve got to be bloody kidding me,” Crawley voices under his breath as he walks away, and I grind my teeth in frustration.
“That’s impossible,” I say, focusing on the man behind the counter. “I have the confirmation right here. Your hotel even requested a deposit and we went ahead and paid in full.” I practically throw my phone onto the counter and wait for the damn app to load. My cheeks flame as George stares pityingly at me while the line of anxious hotel guests grows in my shadow.
Crawley is on his phone, pacing at the entrance of the hotel now, I assume trying to find alternate accommodations in case I can’t get this mess sorted out.
“Look!” I tap my phone’s screen again, revealing the confirmation from the hotel.
The man squints at it while he types something into his computer and then nods. “There’s been a mix up, Miss Cassidy. I do apologize. It appears you booked twenty rooms, but we were only able to secure six.”
“Six?” I squeak. “How did that happen?”
“You never received a call from us?”
“No.” I shake my head violently, trying to remain calm, but it’s impossible as I look over my shoulder and see Derrick and Stryder approach Crawley. Crawley says something heatedly and then they all look at me. My face gets flushed all over again.
I turn back to George. “You need to fix this. These arrangements were made well in advance. These are VIP guests who expect to stay in your hotel.”
The man nods. “Yes, miss. I’m seeing what we can do now. I apologize for the inconvenience.”
The inconvenience. He has no idea.
“Aha,” he finally says with a smile. “Another room opened up, so that makes seven rooms for you here. Unfortunately, I do not have any more space, but we have a sister hotel down the street that would be happy to take the remainder of your party.”
“Fine.” I'm seething. “Just book it, and please provide us with transportation. We’ve already sent the buses away.”
The man gives me no argument, which is smart. He also acts as if his hotel didn’t just humiliate me at the worst possible time. I push off the counter and meet Crawley at the door. He pulls his mouth away from the phone and waits expectantly for me to give him good news.
“Seven can stay here. They’re providing other accommodations for the rest. Transportation is on its way. I’m so sorry about this, Crawley—”
“Lyric, don’t start.” His agitated voice runs over me like cold water as his eyes scan the room. No one seems to be paying any attention to us, but he’s clearly heated because of my fuck up.
“I’ll tell the band they can stay,” Crawley says. “Rex and I will stay, too. Ride with the others to the other hotel and email me with room details.”
I nod and straighten my posture, then hand him the keycards. Everything will be fine. I breathe. “Will do.”
Just as I’m turning away, Crawley calls me back. I halt and turn to face his narrowed eyes. A shudder vibrates through me as I wait for his words.
“I hoped you would prove me wrong. You’re here for the tour, not Wolf’s todger.” His voice is low and controlled. “I don’t bloody care who your parents are. A mistake like this happens again and I’ll see to it that your reputation is permanently fucked.” He waves a hand, dismissing me as he walks away.
My jaw drops. There it is. Crawley is officially a dick. It takes all my strength to control my body and mouth from reacting to his ugly words. I may have screwed up by not calling to confirm our reservations again, but I don’t deserve that shit.
My stomach is in knots by the time I finally stumble out the door. Wolf is walking into the hotel and slows when he sees me, but I don’t stop. I breeze by him to round of the rest of the crew. I can’t lose my cool now. Not until I’m safely alone, locked up in my hotel room.
Our shuttle is slow as hell to arrive, but the crew and I finally make it to the sister hotel. No one seems to care about the botched hotel plans but me and Crawley, so I try my best to act like I don’t care either. We’re already checked in by the time we arrive, and the management passes out our hotel keycards. After listening to a drawn-out apology from the Manager that comes with free future stays, hotel discounts, and as many room upgrades as they could give us, I rush off to my room, ignoring Melanie’s pleas to get me to go out tonight. No fucking way.
As soon as I close the door behind me, the sobs heave from my chest. I've never been so embarrassed. I fall into my bed and wrap myself up safely under the comforter. I can’t wait for this day to be over.
It’s just after nine p.m. when Wolf finally calls. I knew he would contact me eventually, but after everything that went on today, I throw my phone across my bed instead of answering it. My eyes are swollen and red from the tears that refused to let up after the hotel room disaster, but that was only salt in the wound. The truth is, I’m really messed up over Wolf.
I have no doubt sex with him would be mind-blowing, but where would that leave us when it’s all over? Wolf doesn’t do repeats. I’ve heard it from him and from his bandmates a million times. It’s a joke every time a familiar face tries to get close to him. And the thing is, Wolf doesn’t give women the wrong impression. He’s straightforward with his preference for one-time fucks, and he’s never had an inclination for anything else.
I’d be a fool to think I’m any different.
Our flirting was one thing, but when he put his hands on me, that was when it got real. When his finger slid inside me, I knew I never wanted another man’s finger to sink into me again. How did my heartbreak over one man so quickly turn into a deep, festering desire for another? My heart should still be healing; instead, it’s thriving, and I’m not sure there’s anything I can do to stop it.
But then there’s Crawley’s words. Crawley. He can be such a prick. He has some nerve threatening my career. Sure, I should have triple-checked the hotel arrangements before our arrival, something I would have done if I wasn’t getting oral stimulation from the lead singer at the time. But in the end, it was the hotel’s fuckup. Not mine.
Still, I can’t help but feel like a joke to the band now. If any of the guys heard me coming beneath Wolf’s magical tongue, I’m officially a rocker slut. And the worst road manager ever. I can see it now. Every fuckup will be attributed to the fact that I let Wolf put his hands on me. It pisses me the hell off. And that, above anything else, is why I won’t answer his call. That’s why I refuse, from here on out, to let him get to me.
Wolf’s life was just fine before I came along. He said it himself. From now on, I’m not stepping foot in his bedroom. I don’t even think our runs are safe anymore. I’ll avoid every room he’s in unless it’s for official business. I’ll kick ass at my job because I’m great at it, and he’ll kick ass on stage because he’s great at that. He’ll have his lineup of girls waiting for him at the next show, so it doesn’t matter how I choose to play this. The important thing is that I put my focus into my job instead of the many inches of Wolf.
My phone vibrates from the floor, but I continue to ignore it. Instead, I put on my workout clothes and head to the hotel gym. For a full hour, I run nonstop on the treadmill, cleansing my body—inside and out—of Wolf. I’m wrecked by the time I make it back to my room and hop in the shower. I allow the warm steam to soak through my pores and fill me until there’s no room for anything else.
I finally reach for my phone before hopping into bed and pulling the covers over my chest. There are four messages from Wolf. I cringe before opening them, hoping that reading his texts won’t completely sabotage my detox efforts.
9:04 p.m. | Wolf: U ok?
9:35 p.m. | Wolf: Meet me for dinner
10:20 p.m. | Wolf: At club. U should be here. Fuck Crawley. I told that fucker to see a doctor for his stress. He needs medication. Call me.
11:15 p.m. | Wolf: Lyric. U know what! Duck it them.
I’m pretty sure he meant to type Fuck it then. Which means two things. He’s drunk and done. Whatever he truly means, the last message snaps through my heart as if he’s holding the strongest set of pliers. I curse my heart. Not a single ounce of resistance. And I curse Wolf for tying my emotions into knots because that was the one thing I was trying to avoid. It was my entire reason for taking this job.
Another text comes through. I hesitate to open it, but it’s screaming at me. I tap the screen and gasp.
12:19 a.m. | Wolf: Im at club, drunk as duck, tits n ass everywhere, but urs r the only ones I wnt in my mouth.
It’s hard not to laugh a little. Wolf is confused and drunk. That’s all. People don’t change overnight, and men who love to play the field certainly don’t decide monogamy is for them the moment they meet the one. That’s the stuff of romance novels. I believe in strength and happiness and loving yourself. Wolf is no knight in shining armor. He’s not going to swoop in and fix my fucked-up insecurities. No. If I’m not careful, he will completely ruin me, and I’ll be left on the curb mending yet another broken heart.
Convinced that I finally have my shit figured out, I power off my phone and close my eyes, giving my racing heart a few minutes to relax before finally drifting off to sleep.