Page 48 of Wild and Bright

I wish we didn’t have to rush off so quickly after the concert ended. Everyone seemed to be curious about the “girlfriend” Cam liked enough to invite backstage. I was enjoying the attention, but Cam is eager to get to this party.

“The sooner we get there, the sooner we can leave,” he said after he came off stage, his cheeks flushed and his skin glistening with sweat.

Heat pooled in my belly, because I know the source of his impatience is more than his hatred of people. He’s eager to get me back to the hotel.

Cam frowns, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I had a driver from the airport, and it’s the only time in my life I’ve ever felt like a rich person.”

He smiles. “So the chef I hired for New Year’s didn’t do it for you? Or what about your first-class flight?”

“Oh my God,” I shout, whipping around to face him. “Can we talk about first class for a second? Like seriously, what the hell? It’s not nearly as fancy as it is in movies. I mean they gave me champagne and the seats were a little bigger, but that was basically it.” I shake my head. “I’d been fantasizing about it since yesterday.”

A wide smile spreads across his face. “It’s not much on most domestic flights, especially when they’re that short. But just wait till you fly international.”

“Will I be flying international?” I nearly shout the question. “Are you guys doing concerts in other countries during your touring hiatus?”

His smile vanishes. “No.” He shifts in his seat. “We won’t be doing anything like that. And before I forget, I need to talk to you about something.”

“And what’s that?”

“I don’t want you mentioning you’re an influencer.”

I frown. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Influencer is code for groupie in our industry. Everyone will think that’s what you are. I don’t do groupies, literally or figuratively. I don’t want other influencers to get ideas after you and I part ways.”

My stomach sinks at the thought of parting ways, but I try to keep my head in the present. “That’s so stupid. All they’ll have to do is search my name and find my videos.”

“I don’t want you telling them your last name, either.”

My jaw clenches. “Should I adopt a fake Russian accent, too?”

He rolls his eyes. “It’s not that big of a deal. I only want to stay for an hour anyway. Which reminds me, I’m not letting you have any more than two drinks. Two drinks in an hour is more than enough. Especially since you’re technically on the clock.”

Heat washes over me, making my skin prickle. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No.” His tone is almost bored. “Like I said, I want you on your best behavior.” He lifts a hand from the steering wheel and squeezes my thigh. “I think even you can be a good girl for an hour.”

His dismissiveness raises my hackles, even though I would like it if he called me a good girl under different circumstances. I turn away from him, crossing my arms over my chest. “Fine. I’ll be a good girl, Daddy. But don’t be surprised if someone recognizes me. My ‘Drunk Girl Makeup Tutorial’ got five million views.”

“I really like that one.”

His response startles me. There’s something in his voice… Wistfulness, almost. I know if I looked his way, I would see that affectionate smile that’s now grown so familiar, and as always, my insides will turn to mush. I keep my eyes fixed on the foggy window. I can’t let anything steer me from my purpose tonight.

He wants a good girl? He’s going to get one.

After we arrive at the bar, I grimace up at the worn wooden sign. “Why is this party at an Irish pub? Why would anyone spend money to rent a place like this out?”

“I don’t do clubs anymore. I’m too old for that shit, and Isaac wants me to stay longer than twenty minutes.”

My eyelids flutter. “Here I thought I would be dancing tonight. I hate your hatred of people.”

“It’s not only that. I also asked him to avoid any place where Hunter might…”

The door swings open, and the murmur of voices from inside grows suddenly much louder. Janie appears at the entrance. “There you guys are.” She reaches out and grabs our hands. She shoots Cam a probing look. “We have a dark booth for you, and Isaac is saving you a corner seat. People will hardly be able to see you.”

“Eww, Janie,” I say, as she guides us inside, and I find I have to raise my voice once we cross the threshold. “I don’t want to sit in a cramped booth all night because he’s a sociopath.”

---