After an hour of smiling and posing with fans, my cheeks are aching and my temper — which was already hanging by a thread — is about to snap completely.

“I’m, like, your biggest fan ever!” A girl with huge tits leans in, her eyes glazed with lust and liquor as they scan my face. “I legit cannot believe I’m finally meeting you. Like… Oh. My. God. I can’t even. ”

My grin is more of a grimace but apparently she finds it charming enough, given the way she presses closer, intentionally brushing her ample chest against my arm.

“Can I get your autograph?”

“Sure,” I say, grabbing a sharpie off the table behind me. “Do you have a poster?”

“I was thinking…” The girl bites her lip mischievously as she tugs her blouse down to expose the white crests of her cleavage. “Here.”

I swallow down a snort and scrawl something that looks vaguely like my signature across her skin.

“Thank you,” she breathes, blinking up at me like I’ve just made her come.

“Anytime,” I mutter. Against the far wall, I catch sight of Linc and Aiden, both wearing shit-eating grins as they entertain eager VIPs of their own. A few girls are circling them like wolves, moving in for the kill. They sip their beers with easy smiles, more than ready to die for this cause.

Was I ever that carefree?

I barely remember the guy I used to be… before Felicity. The one who bagged a different girl every night and never stayed till morning. The one who used to burn through conquests faster than cigarettes, chain-smoking without remorse.

It’s shitty to admit, but in my mind all those girls are as indistinct and interchangeable as the butts I toss to the ground when my craving is satisfied. One long parade of meaningless sex without strings.

Until she stepped into my path and changed everything.

“So…” The girl is still clinging to me like a piece of lint. “What’s it like, living on the road?”

“Seeing as the tour hasn’t really started yet, I wouldn’t know,” I say, forcing a polite tone.

I’m not feeling polite; I’m feeling pretty damn pissed.

My head swings away from her, searching the crowd for Francesca. She’s behind the merchandise table to my right, scrolling through emails as she oversees the never-ending VIP line filing through the side door. It shows no signs of tapering off, despite the fact that we’ve been mingling dutifully for what feels like a fucking eternity.

“Francesca.”

She looks up at the sound of my growl and exhales sharply as she spots the fan who’s now practically plastered to my side. Snapping her fingers, two of her minions instantly rush forward to intervene. With effort, they manage to peel the girl away from me.

“Bye, Ryder!” She blows me a kiss over her shoulder as they lead her away.

“How much longer?” I ask Francesca between clenched teeth.

“Not long,” she says, not bothering to glance up from her phone. “Just one more group, then you’re done.”

I steel myself for the final wave of fans as they step inside. Thankfully, they’re not nearly as aggressive as the last. I sign their posters, pose for pictures, and thank them for coming to the show.

Rinse and repeat.

The stupid grin on my face falters when I glance over at Felicity, who’s got her own steady stream of admirers on the opposite side of the room. I can’t help noticing the vast majority of them are men. They surround her in a ring, crowding in from all sides. My jaw ticks as I watch them telling her jokes to make her laugh, leaning in to whisper in her ear. Putting their hands on her waist as they pose for photographs, tracing their eyes down her lithe little body in that tantalizingly tight dress she’s wearing.

She looks like a fucking meteorite — sparkling in silver and black. Her kohl-rimmed eyes are a stunning shade of honey, even from twenty feet away. Her lipstick is a deep scarlet, an homage to the great Bethany Hayes — and a distracting one, at that. I’ve been fixated on her mouth all night, whether it’s pursed in anger or pouring out lyrics.

The moment she stepped out of her dressing room, it took every ounce of self-control I possessed not to throw her over my shoulder, carry her back inside, pin her up against the nearest wall, and kiss her until every trace of red was off her lips… until she melted in my arms and admitted, once and for all, that she’s mine and always will be.

Which may explain why I had not even an ounce of remaining restraint to control my reaction a few moments later, when she confronted me about my recent attitude.

“Thank you for coming,” I tell a middle-aged mother and her teenage daughter as I sign their album, shooting daggers at the man hugging Felicity over the top of their heads. “Your support means the world.”

Feeling the weight of my stare, Felicity looks up, straight at me. The light in her gaze goes dark as soon as our eyes meet, shuttered in an instant as the air between us fills with memories.

You’ve been ignoring me, shutting me out…

You ripped my heart from my chest.

You’ve been so cold I can hardly breathe…

I’m not your boyfriend anymore, baby.

We both glance away at the same moment.

“Hey there!” I wink at the next two girls in my line, making them blush and giggle as they approach. “Thanks so much for coming out tonight…”

Rinse.

Repeat.

“Yes, this is Francesca.” The Route 66 agent listens for a moment to whoever is on the other line, then sighs deeply into her cellphone. “No, you were supposed to pull the busses around the back of the venue.” She pauses. “Well, that’s frankly unacceptable. Now it’ll be a mob scene.”

She clicks off her phone with an angry jab of her finger against the screen, muttering under her breath about basic competence. She looks up to find me, Felicity, Aiden, Lincoln, Carly, and two of the security guys whose names I can’t ever seem to remember, all staring at her with raised brows.

“Apparently, the buses are in the side lot, not the back lot. Even though I called twice to confirm the pickup point.” Her lips purse. “You’d think such a simple task wouldn’t require vigilant supervision, and yet…”

“Francesca, it’s not exactly a crisis.” Aiden’s voice is placating. “We can walk to the side of the venue.”

“That’s not the point.” She adopts her most severe expression. “The point is, I’m your label representative, not your tour manager. It’s not my job to be juggling these details, nor can I leave all my interns at your disposal. As I told you weeks ago: you need to find someone who can handle these things while you’re out on the road. Issues will crop up, and I won’t be there to fix them, except on the rare occasions I fly out to see one of your shows. I have other artists that require my attention as well.” Her expression is acutely disappointed, as though we’re disobedient children. “Did you not get in contact with the potential tour managers I recommended?”

“Those guys were sleazy as they come,” Aiden mutters.

“We are not discussing whether their personalities could win a manners pageant.” Francesca crosses her arms over her chest. “Frankly, I’m not concerned with what they’re like, so much as what they can do. All of the candidates I sent to you were thoroughly vetted for experience and job performance. I don’t see why their demeanors should be a contributing factor.”

“Spoken like the corporate robot you are,” Lincoln mutters lowly.

“Linc,” I growl. “Watch it.”

He holds up his hands in defense. “Just speaking the truth.”

“Francesca…” I try to find some middle ground, before this situation implodes. “I apologize if we’ve been making you step outside your job description here. While we appreciate your recommendations, we’ve dealt with enough people in this business to recognize who we can and cannot work with. Those candidates simply weren’t a good fit. We’ll find the right tour manager eventually.”

“And in the meantime?” Her tone is sharp. “You’re leaving for Las Vegas in less than an hour. You expect to find a surplus of viable candidates while you’re out on the road for the next three and a half months?”

A fraught silence descends on the room — shattered by the delicate clearing of a throat.

“Maybe I can help.”

Everyone looks over at Carly, varying shades of surprise etched on our faces. She flushes under all the attention, but holds her ground. “I can keep things organized. Manage some of the moving parts, so to speak, keeping y’all free to focus on the music. Just temporarily, of course,” she adds, shrugging. “Until you find someone more qualified.”

“You?” Francesca asks arching an auburn brow.

“Yes, me.” Carly’s eyes flash and her tone acquires some steel. “Look, I may not have any experience in running a tour, but I’ve spent the past five years running a stage at one of the most popular music venues in Nashville. I know how to deal with roadies, organize a schedule, sweet talk stubborn sound technicians, and even convince the most melodramatic musicians—” She shoots Aiden an interesting look. “—to go on stage at their proper set times.”

Aiden looks undeniably red around the collar. Whether with anger or embarrassment is anyone’s guess.

“The tour is already planned,” Francesca murmurs, thoughts churning in her eyes. “It would merely be a matter of putting out small fires as they arise — coordinating with the venues before and after arrival, confirming reservations, checking in and out of the hotels, making sure the catering crews restock the bus at every stop, keeping the stage crew on schedule… That sort of thing.”

“I can do that,” Carly says, nodding. “Well… I think I can do that. Eighty-six percent certain.”

“Comforting,” Aiden mutters. “You’d probably say the same about brain surgery if someone handed you a scalpel.”

Carly shoots him a frosty look. “Oh, you don’t want to see me with a scalpel in hand, Aiden. I might just use it on you, if you keep insulting me.”

Lincoln laughs.

“I for one think it’s a great idea,” Felicity chimes in, stepping up to Carly’s side.

“Of course you do,” I mutter under my breath.

Felicity’s icy gaze snaps to mine. “What was that, Ryder?”

I shrug casually, shoving my hands in my pockets and keeping my mouth shut. I’m tired of fighting with her, tonight.

Tired of fighting with her, period.

“No thoughts at all on the matter?” Her eyes narrow on me. “Strange, you were simply full of opinions earlier.”

My teeth clench to avoid taking the bait. “I suppose since Carly was already planning on tagging along for the first leg of the tour… she might as well make herself useful.”

Felicity’s brows lift and her mouth goes slack — whatever she expected, it wasn’t a show of support.

“Really?” Carly beams at me hopefully.

I shrug, winking at her. “If it means we can stop talking about this administrative shit, I’m cool with it.”

“Here, here,” Lincoln mutters. “We just played our first goddamned show! We’re supposed to be celebrating, not talking shop.”

Aiden glowers. “Don’t you think this warrants an official band vote?”

“A vote? Fine.” Felicity holds up her fingers and starts tallying. “I’m in, Ryder’s in, and the way Linc’s been grinning for the past two minutes, I’m guessing he’s in, too.”

“Damn straight,” Linc says, waggling his brows at Carly. “I call top bunk, babe.”

She snorts.

“There you have it,” Felicity tells Aiden, waving three fingers at him. “Majority rules. Carly stays on as our temporary tour manager.”

“But—”

“Aiden, I’m tired. It’s been a long day, and I’m going to bed.” Felicity hooks her arm with Carly’s, then glances at Francesca. “Where did you say our bus is parked?”

“Come on, I’ll show you.”

The women disappear in a tight formation of high heels and attitude.

Pissed as I am at Felicity, all I feel in this moment is pride. She’s come so damn far from the meek girl who used to live above a bar back in Nashville, too scared even to sing in front of anyone. Burying her name, her talent, her personality deep down where no one could appreciate it, out of an unyielding sense of self-preservation.

But now, it’s on full display for anyone to see. Now, she’s strong enough to command the attention that was always rightfully hers.

It’s sexy as hell.

Linc chuckles lowly as he watches the women vanish out of sight. “A blonde, a redhead, and a brunette walk onto a tour bus…”

Aiden looks at the ceiling, unamused.

Laughing at his own joke, Linc disappears down the hall. Two of our security guards detach from their four-man unit and trail after him. When they’re gone, Aiden looks at me with desperation in his eyes, as if I can somehow save us from this fate.

I can’t save you, man.

I can’t even save myself.

“You want to talk about it?” I ask instead.

His brows lift. “About what?”

“Whatever it is about that girl that gets under your skin so effectively.”

His hands fist at his sides. “How many times have I asked you to talk about Felicity?”

I blink. “None.”

“Exactly.”

“Fine. I don’t need to know.” I shrug. “But whatever it is, figure it out. Never seen you this on-edge before, man. I don’t like it.”

“If that were true, you never would’ve let her stay.”

He storms out of the room without another word, his eyes dark and his muscles tense. If I didn’t know better…

I’d say he was in love with that girl.

I wait awhile before I follow, taking a moment to regroup. The weight of this night presses heavily against my chest. I can’t help thinking Lincoln was right, earlier. With all these secrets… this tour bus is going to be pretty fucking crowded.