Page 36 of Veiled

“Jesus Christ, Waylon. We don’t fuck the clients. Mostly because they’re exhausting and like literal children. But you know professional code and all that.”

“It’s not like that, and he’s not a child.”

She huffs, annoyed. “Yes. He is. He didn’t like his comfy little fame, and he ran away from home. Throwing a tantrum.”

“Watch it,” I snap before I can stop myself.

She’s quiet for way too long, and I start to squirm a little. “Oh no.” She’s quiet again, and I cringe. “You fell for him.”

“No,” I argue weakly, but just then, I hear and see Justin coming through the cabin door—his cabin, since I haven’t been in mine in weeks—with food from the café and a curious smile on his way too pretty face when he sees I’m on the phone.

My heart kicks up a little faster when I see him smile. That grin does stupid things to my heart.

Uh-oh.

“I should go,” I say into the phone. “Justin is back with the food.”

“You should leave. Feelings are dangerous, Waylon.” I know. We both feel that way. Choosing to put our careers above everything. It’s something we have in common. Something I’ve always prided myself on.

“I’ll call soon.”

“You idiot,” she says softly and pretty damn lovingly for Jenny.

We hang up, and Justin puts the food down on the coffee table before brushing his lips over mine sweetly. My heart kicks again. “Hi.”

“Hi,” I say softly, my voice not wanting to work. This is so not like me. I’m never out of things to say. “Thank you for getting lunch.”

“No problem. You catch up on work?”

I snort at that thought. “No. Not even close. But it’s fine. They’ll all live.”

He frowns now, sitting back against the couch. “They probably aren’t too happy with you being MIA for so long.”

“Dalton is handling it just fine,” I say, and I think he really is. Not that I haven’t been checking in.

“You sure?” he asks like he doesn’t want me to answer, and I get it. Damn, this is really bad.

“Yeah. I am. I was thinking about your next gig...”

“Yeah?” He’s intrigued now, and I notice he doesn’t seem as tense as he was even a couple of weeks ago about the next performance.

He trusts me, I realize.

Hell, that’s heady.

“How about a little bit bigger bar in downtown Nashville? We tell them who you are, and we hire extra security.”

I can feel his curious eyes on me, feel the worry there, but he doesn’t immediately argue.

“It’s not touring all over the world. It’s not a huge obligation, but it will be a decent-sized crowd where you can play what you want to,” I continue to try to sell it a little. If I didn’t think he was ready for it, I wouldn’t have, but I can see the excitement on his face now.

“Let’s do this,” he says, and I’m beaming brightly now. Proud of myself because I made him smile.

Lord, I have it bad.

It’ll pass though.

I’m going to get him set up, and then I’m going to leave this behind. I’m an adult with a lot of responsibilities. I need to remember that. Keep it on repeat in my head.

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