Page 51 of Slow Ride

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Kason felt like a kid called to the principal’s office.He made the trek from his admittedly luxurious bedroom at the back of the tour bus, past the bathroom and down the hall that was lined with six bunks, three on each side, where Kyra, the rest of the band, and Van slept.He emerged into the common space that held a long leather sectional, two recliners on swivels that could face out the front windows or into the living room, a kitchenette, and a glossy fancy-wood table that seated four.

That’s where Rick Rosner had situated himself.Although it was nearing midnight, the asshole was still in his full suit and tie complete with a gaudy gold watch that Kason’s hard work had paid for.Not that the guy didn’t deserve his cut.He was a ruthless negotiator and had always pushed Kason to the next level.

Only now that he was at the top of his game did Rick start to grate.

The sooner they got this shit taken care of, the sooner they could leave Los Angeles and good ol’ Rick behind for a while.The next leg of the tour would carry them toward the heart of the country, and Hot Rides territory—well, within a few hundred miles anyway.

Something about the look Rick shot Kason put him on edge.

Kyra and Van were splayed out on the couch while Kyra kicked Van’s ass at one of the video games she enjoyed so much.It irked Van to no end since he was actually a trained security specialist and she out-played him in nearly every first-person shooter they brought on the bus.

The other guys were either in their bunks with the curtains drawn or out in the parking lot stretching their legs—or scratching a few itches with groupies—before another long drive.Kason didn’t blame them.

He slid into a seat at the table, sitting on his hands so Rick wouldn’t have any indication that he was nervous.And he was, given what he’d just been doing and the warning Rick had given Kason a couple years ago.

Kason sat across the table from his manager and acted like everything was cool.“Where do I need to sign?”

“You don’t want to hear about the proposal?”Rick didn’t seem surprised.

“No.You know what I wanted and I assume you did your job like you always do to get it.”Kason shrugged one shoulder.“Am I wrong?”

“You’re not.”Rick sat up straighter and flashed a sharkish grin.“I got what we discussed, plus an extra twenty percent.”

“Nice.Thanks.”Kason hoped they wrapped this up quick enough for him to call Wren and Jordan back.What were they doing right then?

He couldn’t think about that or things would get even more uncomfortable than they were already.

From a leather briefcase, Rick withdrew a contract and put it in front of Kason before laying a gleaming gold pen on top with the tip resting on a long black line.“Sign here.”

Kason did.

And that’s when Rick sprung his trap.

“You’re lucky that’s fucking locked in.Are you trying to make my job impossible?”Rick glared as he snatched the contract, slipped it in his briefcase, and snapped the thing closed.

Out of the corner of Kason’s eye, he saw Van’s posture change slightly.

Then Kyra gave a whoop and fist pump.“Got you!”She didn’t realize Van had stopped playing and was working, paying close attention to what was about to go down at the table.It was nice to know that if Kason needed backup, he’d…probably…have it.Van hadn’t said a single word to him about what had happened at Hot Rides yesterday.Kyra either.

There’d been a lot of tense silences around the stage today.And it was about to get worse.

“I think the quality of my performances has been pretty damn great this time out, considering I’m sober.And the music I’ve been writing in the past month or so…Well, I’m actually proud of it again,” Kason said quietly.“What do you have to complain about?”

“This.”Rick took another stack of papers from the case and slapped them on the table.“Why is Allied Online writing stories about you?”

Kason blinked.He tried to think of a way to explain the photograph lying there.A full-width picture of him singing “Secret Love” to Jordan—him crouched down, Jordan in their front row, their eyes locked—followed by a snarky headline that Rick was too happy to read, loudly, in a smarmy tone.“‘Kason Cox gets in touch with his cocky side, making gay men swoon across the internet.’”

The gossip magazine had then done what looked like a surprisingly insightful piece about his interaction that night along with a mention of rumors of Kason’s close relationship with his childhood best friend, who had recently come out.Well, not so recently.More like a few years ago.Right after he’d professed his crush and tried to kiss Kason, who’d bolted—both because he didn’t reciprocate those feelings, and because he thought he might like to try kissing his friend anyway.Right before everything had started circling the drain in Kason’s personal life.

Kyra and Van had both set aside their game controllers and were trying not to look at him as Rick ripped him a new one.

“It’s not only your life you have to consider, Kason.”Spittle dotted the papers on the table as Rick got riled up.“You need to think about the people who make a living running this operation.Your band mates.The security team.Hell, even me.I bank on your popularity and if you fuck with that, you fuck with me.”

Kason couldn’t stand to be wrong and this time he was.

Van started to rise from the couch, but Kason held out a hand in his friend’s direction.Kason had gotten them into this and he would take care of it.Van had a right to be pissed, as did Kyra, who Van was now holding back.

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