Page 23 of Harper's Song

But am I being so hard on him just because he’s not Jax?

It could very well be.

As he helped me onto the boat by offering me his arm to lean on, and then guided me to a seat by placing his hands on my hips, I realized it’s been a very long time since I felt a man’s touch in anything other than friendship. Too long. Probably.

But that just made me miss Jax again with a sharpness that all the booze in the world couldn’t dull. So it’s no wonder I also imagined I could hear Jax’s voice calling my name and telling me to stop.

But that’s fine. I’m not going anywhere with Manny tonight. I didn’t even have to imagine hearing Jax’s voice to be sure of that.

The swaying of the boat as we waited for it to fill was making me nauseous, so I spent it leaning over the railing just in case with Manny by my side, holding my guitar and bag. I wish I had puked, maybe that would’ve stopped him from looking at me with such naked desire in his eyes. I don’t want to reject him. I want to tour with him and his band for a while.

The cold wind beating against my face and arms once we finally got moving sobered me up. Maybe even enough to drive myself to the motel. Originally, I’d just planned to sleep off the alcohol in my car in the parking lot.

My legs are almost perfectly steady as we disembark, and I refuse Manny’s arm when he offers it. He’s still carrying my stuff and I ask him for them as I stop to the side of the boat’s walkway.

“I’ll just take a little nap now and I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” I tell him with a smile I don’t feel.

He looks disappointed, angrily so. “I’ll take you to your motel. You shouldn’t be driving.”

“And I won’t be,” I assure him with another smile. “I’ll sleep in my car. There’s plenty of room.”

Damn, but that was the wrong thing to say. Desire has now flared up to dangerous levels in his eyes, which is exactly the opposite of what I wanted. It’s like my mouth and my mind are out of synch and I have no idea why. Maybe I don’t really want to be alone tonight.

“Why don’t I walk you there,” he says with a grin that leaves little room for doubting that he thinks he’s just gotten what he came here to find. Me. Alone.

“You don’t have to,” I say and reach for my bag and my guitar.

In a perfect world, or at least the world I left behind, he would hand them to me, take my no for an answer and respectfully let me walk away with my stuff. But he snatches it all out of my reach.

“No more of this crap now. Where’s your car?” he asks in a hard, commanding voice.

I shrug and point all the way to the other side of the parking lot. I don’t want him to walk me there, but I also don’t think having an argument with one of the most popular lead singers in the country while a bunch of his fans disembarking around us watching is a good move for me. Selfie requests followed us on the boat too, and quite a few people are snapping photos, some even filming us as we stand here.

A woman about my age is walking towards us now, smiling sheepishly, her cheeks flushed red which is evident even in the poor lighting on this dock.

She clears her throat as she reaches us, her cheeks growing even redder as she holds her phone up and towards us. “Excuse me, ummm, Manny, but could I—”

“No!” he snaps at her. “Get away from me.”

She recoils and visibly shakes. But the fear on her face soon turns to outrage.

“How rude…” she mutters then clears her throat. “That’s no way to treat your fans.”

“No one asked you to be my fan,” he barks at her giving her a venomous look before fixing his eyes back on me.

I don’t think he likes independent and headstrong women. He will be disappointed in me if that’s the case. I wish he’d just take the damn hint.

“Lead the way,” he adds and I do, smiling apologetically at the woman who is still fuming beside us.

“That wasn’t very nice,” I tell him once we’re in sight of the edge of the parking lot where my car is. “It’s loyal fans who make it possible for us to do what we do.”

“One future housewife slash soccer mom will neither make nor break my career,” he says.

And neither will being friendly with him make or break mine.

This part of the parking lot is darker and fuller than the one around the dock, since that’s the visitor parking area and this is reserved for the musicians, most of whom are still on the island.

We’re the only ones here. Whatever happens between the rows of cars and vans parked here is invisible to anyone standing at or near the dock and I don’t think I should go any further into that trap with Manny.

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