Chapter 4
Skylar drank down more of the disgusting protein shake as she lounged on a sofa, wishing the drink was something sweeter, like she’d teased Damon. Outside the window, another plane meandered down the runway. They always seemed to move so slowly.
Mandy paused the video she was rewatching over and over. She sat ramrod straight in the opposite chair despite the sink-into-me cushion. “You’re such a fibber. Proud of yourself for today?”
“Very.” Skylar tipped the last of the sludge back, glad it was over. A very specific diet had to be maintained so that she could flaunt a body with curves as well as a flat belly. The last time she had cheated had been when her sister had visited, and she’d been sick the next day.
Mandy sighed, then played the video clip again.
Skylar listened to her husky voice telling the host that she was jealous of the fan’s gifts and that was why Damon had asked them to stop. She winced at the possessive trash she’d spewed. No wonder her fans were pissed.
“With the tour over, the bad press will work in your favor,” Mandy said, reading her expression accurately.
“Fuck it. Maybe this will make that asshole back off finally.” Skylar expected rage to fill her, but instead a queasiness slid inside her stomach. She told herself it was the damn shake.
Mandy looked up from her phone. “You knew Jack pushed the tour request again? I wasn’t going to say anything.” Her lips firmed. “Don’t tell me he contacted you directly. He’s not supposed to do that.”
Skylar shrugged. She’d blocked her ex a few times, but he got around it. She understood why he was pushing the tour. The band’s second album since she’d left had flopped worse than the first, while her own music remained steady on the charts. Not at the top, but better than where it could have been. She should have been crowing over it. Instead she didn’t want to think about any of it.
The rehab counselor had told her avoidance was a coping mechanism. She took that to mean embracing that urge and avoiding everything more would help her cope even better.
“Skylar.” Mandy had that tone she got, the one that was more like a mama bear than the buttoned-up librarian she often channeled. “If he’s reaching out to you, I have to be told about it.”
“Like the label really cares. Remember, Jack’s a nepo baby.” Skylar pushed to her feet, pacing around the private lounge. She should have never gone for the label owner’s son. “Are you done with the notes on my new relationship?” She forced a grin, one that flashed teeth.
Mandy frowned at her. “I started working with you after the incident. I don’t know the details, but management made it clear that—”
“Incident,” Skylar snapped. “For fuck’s sake, is that what they called it?” Her breath hitched as her chest constricted. “Shit, don’t answer that. Just drop it, okay?” If Mandy didn’t cool it, Skylar might go into a full-blown panic attack. It’d been a solid month since her last one, the longest period between them yet. Her hands patted her pockets, finding the little aromatherapy bottle she always kept on her. “Just tell me what the hell I said about Damon and me.” She tapped the scent of elderflowers onto her wrist. A bit of her tension receded when she brought it up to her nose.
Mandy’s lips firmed again, but her gaze dropped to the notebook. “The relationship started the night of the first show, so you’ve been together about four months. He more than pleases you in bed, which you alluded to multiple times, and he gets you little presents, which made you jealous of his own gifts from his fans. You’re getting some backlash because you addressed his fans directly, claiming Damon was yours and they should all back off. Since it was a live taping, they’re lucky you didn’t say that a different way.”
Her manager was too professional to chuckle, but Skylar grinned. She’d caught herself just before telling his superfans to fuck off.
Mandy’s pen slid lower on the notebook. Skylar found it cute that she preferred paper and pen to one of the note apps on her phone. “Oh, and they shouldn’t be surprised when his next single is about you.”
“Oh, damn. No wonder Damon was a little miffed.” Skylar sighed. “Hell, he releases more ballads than anything. It’ll be fine.”
Mandy flipped her notebook shut. “Think about how you would feel if someone claimed part ownership of your creative process.”
Skylar shrugged. “Songs are just math.” There was a pattern to her method, one that was so clear she didn’t understand how others couldn’t see it right away. Follow the right figures, add in a fuck or two, and she was golden. The more explicit the content, the better for her fans. “I’m not as artsy as you think.”
Mandy didn’t refute her claim, just stared at her with that steady, annoying gaze that made Skylar want to fidget. She continued pacing instead.
“Doing something like this is bold, even for you. You’re lucky Damon Lynch is the sweetheart he pretends to be. Oh, that reminds me, you also said he tastes like a cinnamon bun.” The door to the private lounge opened, and Mandy rose to provide instructions for their luggage.
Skylar snorted at the cinnamon bun reference. No wonder she’d been craving sugar. When Mandy gestured for her, Skylar grabbed her carry-on bag. It was about damn time. Skylar was relieved to finally be on the move. She’d touched base with Jami earlier, and her sister had seemed happy that Skylar was coming to town.
Even with a private jet, they’d had to wait to be cleared. When Jack pulled his bullshit, Skylar had decided to accept every carrot the label threw at her, and the private jet was included in that. Every time she used the damn thing, she ended up with a tension headache, given the why behind it being her plane to reserve when she wanted, but it was still better than flying with regular people.
Mandy waved her forward, and the normal security escorted them toward their hangar. A chorus of girly screams of excitement made her turn her head. She blinked in their direction, recognizing Damon among the crowd. He looked softer than ever with the ball cap, glasses, and touristy T-shirt, but his smile was more strained than she’d seen it yet, and she noticed the closest fans had begun to touch him.
“Idiot,” Skylar muttered to herself, changing directions.
“Skylar!” Mandy called after her, but that didn’t stop her.
Skylar’s boots clomped with a purpose. She had the same outfit on from the morning’s interview. As the clomp drew their eyes to her, most of the fans gasped and stepped back, which made a self-confident smirk cross Skylar’s lips. The extra gap in the crowd allowed her arms to sneak behind the pansy rock star to squeeze his ass, then use it to pull him against her.
“There you are,” she murmured against his lips, giving him a lick. Her grin widened at his startled deer-in-headlights expression. Then he faked a better smile than he’d been showing his fans and surprised her by squeezing her back in a hug.
“Skylar,” Damon said, his hands moving to rub her arms. Behind his back, his manager blinked at her. “What—”
She kissed him to shut him up, a hard peck this time. When her head lifted, she added a glare toward his fans. “Don’t touch what’s mine.” She grabbed his hand, tugging him through the parted crowd. “Come on, the jet is waiting.”
Damon acted all docile as he followed along behind her. The squeeze of his hand around hers confused her.
“I told you we should have arranged a private jet,” his manager groused from beside them.
“Wait, big-time Damon Lynch flies commercial?” Skylar laughed. “But you outsell me, what with all that pandering to the teeny boppers.”
Damon’s smile fell. “I don’t pander.”
“Please.” Skylar rolled her eyes, continuing to drag him toward her manager.
Mandy turned to fall into pace with them, raising her phone. “I’ll let the crew know we’ll have two additional passengers.” Her eyes flicked to his manager. “You mentioned Damon was traveling to the same destination last night. We should have coordinated after the interview this morning, now that things have changed.” She looked behind her at the crowd they had left behind.
Damon’s hand turned so that their fingers linked together. He raised their hands, kissing hers, and more fans swooned as they passed. Skylar considered gagging but knew better. “Are you visiting your sister then?” he asked, moving his mouth toward her ear.
Their shoulders bumped when she glanced at him. “How do you know about Jami?” A tidbit from her last conversation with her sister came back to her. “Oh, right. You’re friends with Muscles.”
Damon chuckled. “Muscles? Is that what you call Malcolm?”
“I saw the hottie only once,” Skylar admitted, filing the name away again. Jami had given her Malcolm’s name more than once, but she kept forgetting. Not that her sister hooking up with him wasn’t important. He was much better than that fucker Andrew Raneer, whom her sister had finally broken free from. Realizing the extent of their relationship had fucked with Skylar’s head for a while. The earlier protein shake weighed heavily on her stomach as she remembered the asshole had approached Jami again recently. Maybe she’d have to pay him a visit while she was in town. Her hand tried to curl into a fist, but it was still linked to Damon’s.
“I asked, does that mean Malcolm is your normal type?” Damon repeated.
Skylar shoved down the snarl inside. Emotions like that were pointless. “I don’t have a type.” That was true enough. As long as she found something she was into about someone, that was enough. After Jack, she’d tried out women, but he’d managed to fuck her up no matter which way she went.
“Skylar,” Damon said, and she realized she’d been squeezing the shit out of his hand.
She pulled free, wincing at the thought that her many rings had probably been painful. “Sorry, distracted.”
“No problem.” Damon wasn’t manly enough not to rub the hand she’d gripped with his other one.
She avoided his gaze and shifted closer to Mandy. “Any issues with this?”
“You’re asking that now?” But there was humor in her manager’s tone. “No, it’ll be fine.”
Skylar nodded. Her skin felt too tight, especially on her forehead. She tried to ignore it as they closed the distance to the jet.