16
SUTTON
PRESENT DAY
I sleep most of the flight to Madrid. This morning, I had an early radio interview. When I woke up, Teddy was in my bed, same as he was in the middle of the night, when I woke up and coaxed him awake too.
If I’m going to do this with him, I might as welldoit. I meant what I told him last night. I’ve fantasized about him a lot. The opportunity to act on those fantasies, to actually experience them, is akin to waving a bottle of expensive liquor in front of an alcoholic. Even now, I’m fighting a giddy smile and wondering if there’s some way to signal to Teddy to meet me in the back of the plane for a quickie, which, if last night is anything to go by, wouldn’t be quick at all.
Suzan says my name. Based on the annoyance laced in the syllables, it’s not the first time she has.
I shift in my seat and take a sip of my coffee. “What was that?”
“Isaid, here’s your itinerary for Madrid. Interview requests have gone through the roof, as I’m sure you can imagine.”
I stare at her blankly. Suzan sighs.
“The breakup with Kyle. Sharks are out for blood on what ended music’s golden couple.”
“We decided we were better off friends,” I deadpan.
“They’re going to want more than that.”
“What else do you want me to say? You know why webroke up.”
Suzan arches one of her professionally formed brows. It’s still early, but she looks perfectly put together in a pantsuit and an elegant chignon. Meanwhile, I’m slouched in sweats that have a coffee stain on them and a messy bun.
“Do I?”
I pause with my coffee cup halfway to my mouth. “What does that mean?”
She looks at Teddy, who’s laughing at something Jaxon is showing him on his phone. Camille is sitting on Teddy’s other side. I watch as she presses against him, supposedly to get a better look at the screen. From where I’m sitting, it looks more like a guise to get close. I’m taken aback by the jolt of jealousy.
Generally, I don’t get possessive over guys. Either I’ve been confident they wouldn’t cheat or simply didn’t care enough to. I don’t think Teddy is interested in Camille, or Amelia, or any of the other women on tour. But still, I have the irrational urge to walk over and sit on his lap. Mark my territory.
Even more concerning? I don’t think I’m feeling this way because we slept together twice last night. This isn’t just anI want his dick for myselfreaction. The way you should feel about a casual hookup.
We’re temporary. That doesn’t mean I’m not already permanently attached.
I look back at Suzan, who’s studying me closely.
“You haven’t been going out after shows. After-parties, club openings—you’ve skipped them all. People expect you to show up at those events.”
“I figured you’d be all for the no-drinking, early-to-bed decision-making.”
“Is that what you’ve been doing instead?”
“I’m nearly thirty, Suzan. I can’t party until three and be perky at six a.m. anymore.”
“You were never perky at six,” she replies, smirking. “And you’re only twenty-six.” Slowly, her amusement fades. “I still have the list I made after Devon’s accident. Of guitarists. Most of them are still available.”
I tense. “Have you gotten complaints about Teddy’s performance?”
“No.”
I hold her gaze. “Then why are you suggesting replacing him?”
“When I called, offering to represent you, I asked you who inspired ‘Heartbreak for Two.’ Do you remember what you said?”