Page 9 of Reckless

Our conversation earlier comes back to me, about how people have to be so cautious these days. Especially women. Everyone gets twitchy for the three months when I set out in the RV, because I’m alone. It’s a tradition. I will not let fear change it. But I will adapt to the times.

I turn back and look at the RV. Not that I have a reason to be scared. I know exactly who is in there. I did a good job not letting on. It seems like he needs that.

Like the rest of the world, at least the side that is into their music, I’ve read the recent announcements about Reckless Soul taking a break. They’ve cancelled all of their summer shows. The official line is burnout.

Looking at Jude, I can see that is a broad brush catch all to keep the focus off him. Or support him. He’s struggling.

I’m not sure stealing him away from this person he was at the party with is the right move to make. At least if I get him somewhere safer than the middle of the forest, he can contact people he knows who will help him. Part of me regrets lying about not knowing him. I should come clean, but his hesitancy made me not let on.

I tried not to look at him as a rock band’s lead singer and star of millions of women’s wet dreams. I’d focused on the man he introduced himself as. Jude.

Does he really want to walk away from his life? He did last night. He made a stupid decision, walking into the wilds of Montana in the middle of the night. There are wild animals in these woods. They would usually stay away from humans, but you can never be too careful. He is lucky I stopped over.

Usually, I don’t like stopping at places like this, not on lone stretches of highway where I can’t park far enough away from the road.

Driving any longer was not an option. I’d rather take my chances with all my security, than fall asleep at the wheel and cause a wreck like the one I passed a few miles back.

My situation isn’t as extreme as Reckless Soul’s sounds. When I told him I set out on the road, it’s more to do with feeling caged than everything getting on top of me.

I’ve always loved to travel. It is something I caught from my parents. We went on vacations all the time when I was growing up. Overseas and at home.

My chosen career gives me the means and opportunity to do what I love. A writer’s life is often a lonely one. It’s not like I go to an office full of people every day. There are people around me. I have a PA and publicist and I’ve built up a street team of fans who love to read my books and help me out prior to releases. They’ve become good friends over the years.

No one understands that getting out on the road is a different kind of solitude. It’s hard to explain, but I’ve been doing it for five years and always feel invigorated and reborn when I get back.

And it’s not always lonely. I meet new people all the time. I’ve made one lifelong friend along the way, even though we’ve not seen each other for a few years now. She had twins, which makes it impossible for her to travel like she used to. I try to catch up with her whenever I can.

Over the years, I’ve come across a lot of different people.

None of them like Jude. I’ve never met anyone like him before. One of the most famous, desired men on the planet, albeit a little broken.

Yeah, I’m attracted to him. Lying to myself is pointless. The man is sex on legs. I love his voice. He’s been praised for his range for years. He can sing like an angel one minute, and scream like a demon the next. I’ve seen women make fools of themselves on social media, saying sick things about what they want to do to him. Watched their meteoric rise after one song went viral. Seen other bands try to emulate them. No one comes close.

The wind picks up, blowing my hair in my face again. I need a hair tie. And I really need to go if I want to get back on my schedule. I don’t want to get too caught up in the sexy rock star who landed on my doorstep.

Turning back, I pause as Jude appears in the doorway to the RV. He runs a hand through his hair and takes one step down, holding onto the side of the doorframe with the other. It makes his bicep clench, and his t-shirt lifts enough that a sliver of tanned skin above his jeans is on show.

I can’t drag my eyes away.

He’s looking around. For me. When he sees me, he stops moving. Our gazes collide across the clearing. I don’t move. Neither does he. I don’t understand this pull between us. I felt it from the first time our eyes locked.

Jude Smallwood would be all wrong for me. He’s going through some serious shit. Whatever this… connection is, it needs to stop.

The sound of a car approaching has us both looking towards the road. A black sports car rounds the bend, going pretty fast until it sees my RV, then it swerves over to the side, pulling to a hasty stop. Loud music cuts off as the engine dies and a man in a suit gets out.

Given the circumstances, I can guess who he is. If Jude hadn’t shown up and told me, this man would freak me the hell out. I get he’s lost his superstar, but he’s coming towards me in that frantic frame of mind, not considering I’m a woman on my own in the middle of nowhere.

He swats at something as it lands on the back of his neck and he makes a girlie sounding squeal. Jeez, these guys really know nothing about nature.

From where the car has stopped, and the path he has taken into the clearing, he can’t see this side of the RV where Jude is still standing, his eyes wide with panic.

Shit.

“Hey! Excuse me?” The man calls out.

Jude leans back into the RV, but not all the way. It’s clear he’s conflicted about what to do. He recognizes the car and the man. His hesitation says a lot.

I take a couple of steps backward. The man seems to realize he’s barreling towards me and slows to a stop. He looks at the RV, down to the lake and the forest beyond.

---