Page 34 of Hero on the Road
Not that I’d be sleeping.
Sleeping would mean I might accidentally turn and take her in my arms, and something told me that if I did that, it would lead to a whole lot more than either of us was ready for.
CHAPTER19
Colin
ARE THEY OR AREN’T THEY? That’s the question of the moment, isn’t it?
And yes, I’m talking about Olivia Johns and Connor Wheating. You might find it hard to believe this, but Olivia has, up to this point, resisted my charms, and I’m starting to think I might know why. After playing their best show yet, in my esteemed opinion, they were seen last night heading upstairs together. Sure, the bar in Wolf Creek has several rooms up there.
I stayed in one myself.
Which means I was at the top of the stairs and in full view of them when they went into the same room and didn’t come back out again.
Now I know what you’re thinking. They’re on tour together and all appearances seem to indicate that they’re the best of friends. But hear me out. They’re on tour alone. They’re sharing a small van and sleeping next to each other every night. I know because I’m getting hotel rooms. They’re not. They’re playing together every day. I’ve been here from the start and I can tell you that their chemistry on stage is getting really, really good.
Like, too good.
Folks, I might be jumping the gun here, but something tells me there’s more than music going on between those two. My heart is crushed, of course, but anyone with eyes could see that they’re meant to be together. I’m cheering for those two crazy kids—and for more than just them getting their music contract.
Check back tomorrow for more! I’m off to do research!
See you on the road!
-C
PS I can’t believe I forgot this BUT my little blog has been picked up by a major magazine! You might have heard of it. It’s a little rag calledCountry Music, and they’ve taken an interest in me following along with the band and documenting their adventures! Their first feature on me comes out TOMORROW and if you love me, you’ll all go right out and buy a copy, because who knows if I’ll ever do anything this big again!
CHAPTER20
Olivia
Getting my first bed in a week hadn’t been as restful as I hoped.
When I opened my eyes the next morning to the sun streaming through the window, my first thought was a memory of how much time I’d spent awake over the night, my body tense with awareness at how close Connor was and that we were in bed together. I’d laid down in bed and told myself firmly to stick to my side rather than turning and using him for warmth against the chilly night. I’d told myself that he wasn’t there for me and that I had to stick to the plan.
I told myself I wasn’t allowed to think there was more between us than there actually was, despite the long looks and hugs and constant tension.
Of course, I’d been telling myself that since we launched this tour, and so far the self I was talking to had been refusing to listen.
The rest of the night had been one long mess of angst and confusion, muddled even more by the fatigue weighing me down and the additional worry over what was going to happen to us. I wanted to be able to turn to the one person who’d been there since we hit the road, and it wasn’t just because he was the only one physically available to me. I mean that was part of it, yeah, but in the same breath…
I’d realized that the thing we’d built over Christmas wasn’t gone. Not even remotely. And I wanted it back. I wanted him to look at me the way he’d looked at me the night we spent together. I wanted to be able to look back at him with the same emotion shining in my eyes.
I turned over, trying to get comfortable enough to go back to sleep, and instead saw Connor sitting by the window, his eyes on his phone and his brow creased in worry.
“Awfully early to be wearing an expression that serious,” I noted, sitting up. “What?”
When he glanced up at me, I could see that he was even more worried than I’d realized. The line between his eyebrows was deep and his eyes, which were usually laughing, were clouded. “We’re in trouble.”
I slid quickly out of bed, wrapped the quilt around me, and made my way toward him. “More trouble than we were in before?”
We had, after all, been homeless and without real income for the last week.
His answer was short. “Yes.”
He handed me his phone and I took it, stomach sinking. When I looked down, expecting to see Colin’s blog—our usual source of news—I saw instead an article in a magazine.
