He was standing right in front of me, at the far end of the hallway. I had no idea how long he’d been there. How much had he seen?
My face flushed with embarrassment. He must have seen Neil kiss me. He must have thought the worst of me. Did he think I was the kind of girl who went around sleeping with any guy who crossed her path? I opened my mouth to explain, but nothing came out. How could I explain it? I’d just kissed another man in front of him. I wanted to sink into the floor.
No.
That wasn’t right.
I shouldn’t feel ashamed for what just happened.
Jayce and I weren’t together. We’d both agreed that it would never work between us. We’d had our fun, but it was over. It could never happen again. I was free to kiss and date and sleep with whomever I chose. Jayce must know that.
I straightened my back, standing upright. There was no reason things had to be awkward between us.
“Neil… that is, Cornelius Connor, is a friend of mine.”
Jayce narrowed his eyes and wheeled around on his heel, storming away before I could say anything else.
The last fading hints of embarrassment turned to worry. Jayce looked honestly upset. He had said it himself. He’d followed me online forever. He’d always wanted to meet me. Even though we knew it would never work between us, he might still want us to be something more.
I had to admit to myself that, deep down, I had been starting to hope there could be something more between us as well. I’d gotten to know Jayce, the real Jayce, not the persona he put on for fans, and I’d discovered that I liked him. I liked being around him and talking with him. I especially loved kissing him.
My mind flashed back to Neil’s kiss. I’d known Neil for a lot longer than I’d known Jayce, but I’d gotten to know Jayce in person, not just through online messages.
Would it be right to date Neil if I was attracted to Jayce?
I shook my head to clear the thoughts going around in circles. I’d go out for drinks with Neil and see how the night went, then I’d talk to Jayce and clear the air between us.
I nodded to myself, pleased with my plan.
There was a small part of me, though, that couldn’t help but wonder.
If it came down to it, which of them would I choose?
***
IWASNERVOUS around Jayce for days after he saw Neil kiss me. The tour bus had a faint tension running through it whenever silence fell between the five of us. Kell was good at keeping up the chatter. Ren was just as talkative, but a lot less narcissistic in subject matter, thankfully.
The last thing I wanted was to be stuck on a bus with Jayce, but even worse was that I still needed to interact with him to do my job. Asking him to pose sexily for my camera and respond to fan’s declarations of love was torture. Both of us tried to act like nothing was wrong, and we mostly succeeded, but I still went to bed every night with an ache of worry in my chest.
To make matters worse, after a long day of concerts and interviews, the guys decided to unwind by heading out to a club. Going out drinking with Jayce. Great.
I didn’t understand how going out dancing and drinking was going to help them unwind, but then again, I was never much of a club person. The only times I got out were to go see concerts.
Kell had taken one look at my pencil skirt and blouse and pointed a finger at the tour bus, telling me to march on over and change into something hot. I’d laughed and said I hadn’t thought to pack anything he’d consider hot. I was here for work, after all. He told me to at least go find a skirt with a hemline above my knees.
I’d rummaged through my luggage, trying to remember if I’d packed my cute one piece red dress. It wasn’t exactly short, but it was backless and had a plunging neckline. I was sure Kell would approve.
When I walked off the bus, Kell gave me a wolf whistle and clapped his hands. Jayce’s eyes almost bugged out of his head, and he quickly turned on his heel, putting his back to me.
“Perfect,” Kell said. “Who knew our prim and proper internet girl would turn out to be such a babe behind those boring and prudish skirts?”
“It’s called being professional,”I sniffed, pretending to be offended. “We can’t all do our jobs in ripped jeans and T-shirts with cartoon characters on them.”
“Hey, this is an original Spiderman shirt from 1977. It’svintage.”
“It has holes. Moths have eaten half that shirt.”
“That’s part of its charm. C’mon, internet girl, we’re all taking a taxi to the club. Morris got us a private booth at Rosette. It’s some fancy new dance club. Just opened.”