Page 15 of Don't Fall For A Rockstar

“Why don’t you head back to the hotel and grab your stuff?” Ace offered with a smile. “I’ll meet you at the bus.”

“But there’s the final sign-off,” I added.

“I’ll take care of it. I think you need to rest up. Besides, the two guys who were sick yesterday are fine now. If I need any help, I’ll call on them.”

“Thanks, Ace. I’ll see you later.”

“We’ll talk on the bus, right?”

I nodded, grateful. I didn’t have to name names, but maybe talking this out would help. I’d never been so distracted by a man before. I hoped to fuck it was temporary.

“You sure everything’s okay?” he asked.

I paused. “Yeah.”

But I really didn’t know. Everything in my life was the same this morning and yet, I felt different.

By the time I headed back upstairs, only a skeleton crew remained. It was way too quiet now that the boys from Wayward Lane were gone.

More importantly, so was Nate.

I walked across the stage, the floorboards creaking, and stood in the center, looking out at the empty theater. Remembering the way Nate had gripped that mic and the passionate sound of his voice, the incredible rush of the crowd’s applause in return. I knew I’d be watching videos from last night’s concert for quite some time.

Waving to my fellow roadies, I walked out of the concert hall and headed back to the hotel.

It was foggy now, and the streets smelled like brine and stale booze. No wonder, considering NOLA was party central every day.

When I got back to my hotel, I grabbed my suitcase and shoved my clothes in haphazardly. I grabbed my personal items from the nightstand—including the almost empty bottle of lube—and then my toiletries from the bathroom.

Taking one final look around, I spotted something on the bed.

It was Nate’s black lace jockstrap. Just thinking about him spread out on my bed had my pulse racing.

Without hesitation, I picked up the sexy garment and threw it in my backpack. I’d think about the why later.

I grabbed a rideshare and made it to the bus in ten minutes. Sam, our driver, was the only one there so far. Once we got my suitcase stored, I headed inside, placed my backpack on the dining table and sat on one of the comfy chairs. It had been a long couple of days, and I was hoping it would be extra quiet on the ride back to Nashville. That was usually the way once theshow was over. Was that good or bad? That unsettled feeling in my stomach just wouldn’t quit.

Why? Maybe because I didn’t get to give Nate a proper goodbye. I didn’t have his damn phone number to text or call him, either. Van would have it for sure. But I didn’t want to text the band’s manager and raise any flags. Or, maybe I could text Ace? But he was busy now. And I didn’t want to sit around here waiting another hour or two. Might as well go back and speak to Ace in person.

Not wasting a moment, I got up and bounded down the stairs.

But as I made to open the door, someone else was doing the same from the other side. I pitched forward, losing my footing.

Don’t fall. But it was too late.

I stumbled down the last step until Nate caught me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, surprised and surprisingly out of breath at the sight of him.

“Are you okay?” he asked as I righted myself, still clutching tight to his arms.

“I was…I was just leaving to go back to the venue to talk to Ace. I wanted, well, I thought maybe—” Holy shit, I could barely speak. And Nate’s face was so close, his lips a temptation I couldn’t ignore. “I wanted to get your number. To text you. To say goodbye. Or, you know, hi.”

Nate’s responding smile had my heart beating double time.

“I came by because you forgot something,” he started.

I stared at him, puzzled. Until he pointed to his jacket. Mine.

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