Page 38 of Rock & Roll Nights: The Lila and Rivers Edit
I got up without saying anything, threw some cash down on the table, and stalked away. I’d thought we had something brewing between us, like it could all be that simple, and the thought that I might be wrong was doing something to my insides. Maybe I didn’t know her as well as I thought and was jumping the gun letting myself care for her. For all I knew, she could be just like any other girl on the tour.
Only in it for the chance to brag that she’d slept with a rock star.
Or she could be like half the people I’d met in this industry, and only interested in using me. Hell, I already knew she was doing that, didn’t I? She’d made that deal with Taylor herself. And now here she was talking to some other guy in front of me, like I didn’t mean anything to her.
Probably because I didn’t.
I didn’t know why I was surprised. I’d never meant anything to anyone else. What the hell would make Lila Potter so different?
It was time to call this thing off. Sure, I’d told Taylor I’d pretend to date Lila for a couple weeks. Do enough to make the press believe I’d changed my ways and was looking to settle down. And my spot on the tour depended on me following through on that promise. But surely we’d done enough by now. We’d taken about a million photographs and I’d brought her up on stage with me, for God’s sake.
Taylor could take that as good enough.
I’d spent my career laying myself out for other people, and paying the price for it. And I hadn’t even liked any of them that much. I couldn’t imagine how much worse it would hurt if someone I actually liked was just using me.
And I wasn’t going to find out.
That voice in the back of my head—the one screaming that I was overreacting and that Lila wasn’t like anyone else—could just shut it down. Because that voice wasn’t the one who had to deal with the fallout when people let you down.
I was.
20
LILA
Iwatched him walk out, my jaw practically on the table in shock.
“Sorry, did I interrupt something?” the guy from last night asked.
I looked up at him, only now remembering that he was there and that he’d said something to me. Something about advice, wasn’t it? He’d shown up so suddenly that I’d barely registered his presence, and second later Rivers was throwing money on the table and storming way like this guy had somehow offended him.
“No, it’s fine,” I said faintly. “Um, you’re welcome.”
I didn’t know what the guy meant, exactly, and couldn’t even remember his name—had I ever known it?—but I didn’t want him hanging around any longer. I also didn’t know what I was supposed to do now. What the hell had this guy said that had set Rivers off? Did they know each other or something? Have prior history that made Rivers overreact? He’d been talking and laughing with me like everything was fine—like he hadn’t left me standing in the hall on my own last night—and then suddenly this guy shows up and...
Wait.
Last night when I was talking to this guy, Rivers had called me up on stage. Now the guy showed up again and Rivers stormed out in a huff. Was there something about this guy that specifically set him off? Or was it the jealousy I’d thought it must be last night? Could it be that Rivers had gotten so attached to me that he didn’t want anyone else talking to me?
Was he the sort of guy who not only had the tattoos and angst and rebellion, but also a healthy dose of protective jealousy? I’d thought I understood last night, but looking at it now, in the light of day and with a stack of pancakes sitting in front of me, I wondered. I didn’t know everything about Rivers, but I did know he’d never had a serious girlfriend. He didn’t keep girls around for longer than a single night, and I thought it likely that his bandmates were his only true friends. He didn’t seem to be close to his roadies or the techs on the tour and I’d only ever seen him doing meals with Taylor.
Neither of them had looked pleased to be there. I didn’t think I could count Taylor as one of his friends.
Could it be that he was just the sort of guy who didn’t know how to be close to people? Did he… not have friends or people he cared about?
Had I somehow crossed that particular bridge and become someone he wanted to hold onto?
Or was he just too dramatic to bother with? So used to being the most important guy in the room that he couldn’t handle a little competition?
Honestly, I didn’t know which was a better option. The thought that I might have burrowed through his walls and found a way to get under his skin had me practically glowing with sudden affection for him, but I wasn’t stupid enough to be sure I was right. We’d barely spent any time together. I’d onlyknown him a couple days, and we’d spent most of that in a fake relationship, doing our best to fool the press.
But there had been that game we played the first night. The one where we told each other our secrets. And that afternoon spent cloud-gazing in a deserted meadow. The shock of his hands on my skin, the fire in his eyes when he touched me…
I shook my head, feeling both dazed and confused. I’d come on tour to win a contract, and had only agreed to the fake dating scheme because it gave me a better shot. Getting close to Rivers had been both a perk and a dangerous side effect.
I hadn’t been trying to build a real relationship with him.
The thought that I’d done it on accident was… unsettling.
