My leather bag vibrates and I ignore it. I can’t deal with whoever’s on the phone bringing me down.
Eventually, I’m going to have to talk to my mom, but not today. And it might not be her anyway. That call feels like a Julianna call, and that’s worse than my mom. I never should have told her the truth about what’s been happening, but I needed her help.
Unfortunately, she’s a literalist. I know this and still vomited out everything to her. But this morning I can’t deal with her lecturing me about Rhys, lying to my mother, and how all of this is going to bite me in the ass.
Yeah, I can do without her caring-yet-harsh dose of reality. Instead, I’ll people watch, hoping that will block out any negative thoughts.
The concourse is full-on happening. The smell of nacho cheese warming up makes my stomach rumble in protest since my main diet lately is Jägermeister, Jack Daniel’s, chips, and the chocolate I grab from the bar in my room.
I look over at the concession shop. Too bad it isn’t open yet. A pretzel sounds good right about now. I need to start eating better. Not that a pretzel is good for me, but at least it’s substance. I grab my bag and retrieve my cigarettes. It’s stopped vibrating, which tells me that call was definitely Julianna. Not only do I need to eat, but I’m also starting to worry that I might be a smoker. I knew I was in trouble when I bought a pack yesterday. Freakin’ expensive.
And that depresses me. How am I going to pay Julianna back? I hadn’t factored in Rhys’s whole situation as… the Rock God. I know she would never ask for it, but that is not how I work. If I borrow money, I pay it back.
And thank God I did. Besides the hotel and transportation, I’m on my own unless I hang out with Nuke or the band.
Which I’ve been doing and look at me. I’m sure smoking is not allowed, but I need one. Also, the Xcel Energy Center isn’t open yet, so maybe the no smoking rule isn’t in effect? Whatever, if security stops me, I’ll play dumb. I need something to settle me down right now.
I take a nice deep inhale, letting the nicotine calm my nerves as I try not to obsess about being a shell of my former self. I’ve allowed Rhys Granger to drag me down. Like an idiot, I can’t even be mad at him. I’m pissed at myself for not being able to kick this crazy addiction I have for him. It’s like we’re both waiting, for what I don’t know, but that’s what it feels like.
At least I have my photography. If anything, I realize that college is a huge waste of time and money. If you want to make it in this world, you have to go out and do it.
My photos are art, history, they speak for themselves, and no matter what happens, he can’t take that from me. No one can. I lean my head back and close my eyes, letting the slight heat from the cigarette warm my lips.
“Smoking? Nice.” My pulse leaps into my throat and my eyes dart open. I almost drop my cigarette.
“Damn it, Rhys.” I leap up only to grab ahold of him because my legs are slightly numb from the cold floor, and I guess I’m forgetting how to stand around him now.
“Let’s go.” He reaches for my bag, tossing it to me. I try to figure out if I should put out the cigarette or keep it on principle. Not letting go of my arm, he drags me with him.
“What are you doing?” I pull back, which does nothing except make me stumble. Never in my life have I felt less graceful, and that’s ridiculous. After all, this is Rhys whom I’ve known forever. Yet, in reality, the man tugging me along is the Rock God—hot and strong and completely unpredictable. Merely touching him makes my arm feel like it’s been singed, as if my body ignites as soon as I’m near him.
“We need to talk,” he grumbles, ignoring the two men running behind us and calling his name.
“Rhys, I think they want you.” I jerk my arm back, which does nothing, but he does stop.
“Dude, you can’t leave, man.” A dark-haired, thin rocker guy with a crazy mullet runs up panting as if he’s finished a marathon.
“Dallas, I was there an hour ago. I don’t want to be around them right now.”
“But—”
“If anyone asks, Gia’s with me.” His hand slides down my arm and I shiver as his warm fingers take my cold ones. The poor guy looks confused as his eyes dart from my face to Rhys.
“You’re really leaving?”
“Yep, see you tonight.” Rhys takes the cigarette from me. I’ve been holding it like an idiot. He takes a drag and drops it, snuffing it out with his boot.