Fourteen
FOURTEEN
WE NEED TO TALK
We’re leaving for tour in two days and I am extremely not ready. There’s so much to rehearse and pack and plan and stress over. I need to choose my stage clothes and my bus clothes and my daytime clothes. I need to pack all of the shoes but not too many shoes. I’m only allowed one large suitcase and an overnight bag and no configuration of packing cubes will contain what I absolutely must bring.
Instead of dealing with my unzippable suitcase, I’m working my last shift at Steamers. I don’t really have time to be here, but I promised Sage I’d help out as long as I could since I’m leaving so suddenly.
“Hiatus,” I said when Sage and I talked about it. “I’ll be back after the tour.”
“You’ll be a superstar after the tour but thank you for faking humility. Door’s always open when you need it, but I know you won’t need it.”
Of all the jobs I’m quitting to go on tour—dog walking, food delivery, house sitting—I’ll miss working with Sage at Steamers the most.
I’m restocking milk when Cass comes in for a decaf latte before her next client .
“You look panicked,” she says when I walk out front with a gallon of milk in each hand.
I set them down and touch my face, eyes wide. “But I’ve been using a new moisturizer.”
“You’ve rehearsed your set,” she says, ignoring my snark. “We’ve gone over your wardrobe essentials. You have all the info from Jasmine. You’re ready. You can do this.”
“You’re sure you can’t come with me?”
Cass smiles wistfully. “Wouldn’t that be a dream? But there’s no space for me on the bus. Plus, I have clients with urgent hair needs.”
“Hair needs can wait. I’m about to be on tour with my family’s mortal enemy playing my untested songs to massive crowds every night.”
“And living on a bus. With Kick Raines.”
I leave that comment hanging and go to make her drink. I’m putting the lid on when a text comes in from an unknown number.
Unknown: I think we should talk. Before the tour
I show it to Cass and she whistles. “He wants you.”
“He wants something, but it isn’t me.”
Me: Who is this?
Unknown: Your alcove lover. Hopefully that narrows it down?
I save his number as Do Not Kiss and shove my phone back in my pocket.
Do Not Kiss: Have you seen the video of our karaoke song? People really love us together, Goldie
Do Not Kiss: We should probably talk about that before we’re sleeping together every night
Do Not Kiss: On the bus, I mean
Do Not Kiss: I don’t want you getting any sexy ideas
Do Not Kiss: Unless I DO want that
Do Not Kiss: Which is another thing we should talk about before the tou r
Turns out it only takes six texts to wear me down.
Me: Please stop text bombing me like a bored housewife
Do Not Kiss: How could I be bored when I’m texting my favorite duet partner?
Me: So singing karaoke duets is a favorite pastime of yours?
Do Not Kiss: Only when they’re with you
“You do realize you’re beaming at your phone, right?”’ Cass says.
“I’m not beaming. I’m close-lipped partial-smiling. It’s a very neutral expression.”
“Who’s on your phone that’s got you smiling like that?” Sage says, joining us at the counter.
“Karaoke guy,” Cass offers.
“Oh yeah, I saw that video. He’s hot,” Sage says.
“Would you two shut-up? I’m professionally texting a person I will be on tour with about said professional tour. That’s it.”
Cass and Sage fist bump each other.
Me: I’m working at Steamers in midtown. We close at nine. Come by.
I show Cass the messages.
“Smells like the start of a beautiful love affair.”
I roll my eyes and shoo her away. “Go do hair.”
An hour later Kick walks into the coffee shop in grey sweatshorts, a white crew neck and a backwards baseball cap. He’s sweaty, like he’s just getting back from a friendly pick-up game of basketball. He saunters over to the counter, a half-smile on this face .
Absolutely not , I tell myself. I will not succumb to the eyelashes or the forearms. I will not bend to the will of the grin. I will not be ruined by the way his hair curls out just so from behind his ears.
“How’d you get my number?” I ask, my way of saying hello.
“I Google’d Hottest Girl In Nashville and your number popped up.” When I don’t give in, he says, “Everyone’s numbers were in the tour pdf Jasmine sent.”
“Oh. Right.”
My pulse pounds in my neck. I wish I could figure out what it is about him that sends me off balance. Every time I’m around him my brain malfunctions and I feel like I’m going to trip over the air and fall into his arms like a lovesick romcom character.
“Can I get you a drink before this big talk of yours?” I say. “It’s on me.”
“In that case, can I get an extra-large ice water?”
“We don’t have crushed, only cubed.”
His eyes dance, thinking about that night. The alcove. “I’ll manage.”
I grab a large cup and fill it with ice as I wave at Sage. “I’m taking my fifteen.”
She nods and gives me a wink.
I motion for Kick to follow me to the patio outside. It rained earlier in the afternoon so the night air is pleasantly cool. We take the table furthest away from the windows.
“I can’t believe you sent me a we need to talk text,” I say as we sit down across from each other. “Who does that?”
“I thought it was important for us to sort some things out before the tour starts. Plus, I wanted to see you again.”
“You’re about to see a lot of me. Too much, probably.”
“Care to test that theory?”
He keeps poking even though we’re both hesitant to name it—the heat between us. The want. The way we can’t stop looking at each other like if we don’t devour one another right this second we’ll die of starvation .
But it’s just hormones. Pheromones. That urgent thing you get with some people. It’s not anything worth risking a life-changing tour opportunity.
“I wanted to talk about you and me. How it’s pretty obvious there’s something between us.” He lets that simmer for a beat. “After singing together at the launch party, I think it’s pretty obvious to everyone else too.”
He’s not wrong. Cass’s video of me and Kick practically making out on the karaoke stage has gone semi-viral, stoking the flames of relationship suspicions even hotter. Anyone who wasn’t already convinced we were doing the dirty on a regular basis is now a believer. And yes, I can admit it felt incredible singing with him. Everything with him feels incredible. He’s incredible. But for this tour to work, we can’t be that, do that. We just can’t.
“Here’s the thing,” I say, doing my best to keep my voice even, “this opening slot, this tour, it’s really important to me.”
He nods. “It’s important to me too.”
“Yeah, but there’s…I have…I can’t let anything, even something good, get in the way.”
His smile fades. He looks more serious than I’ve ever seen him. “What if it’s something really good?”
“Is it ever? Has a momentary fling ever been better than the fulfillment of a dream? I don’t know about you, but this tour is something I’ve been working for, hoping for, for a long time. Guys come and go. An opportunity like this is once in a lifetime. I can’t screw it up just because you’re gorgeous and I like kissing you.”
“I like kissing you too.”
“Not the point.”
“But it is the point. I’ve never…it’s never been like that with anyone else. I can’t stop thinking about that night. About you.”
My cheeks burn. I haven’t stopped thinking about him either and this conversation isn’t helping matters. It would be so much easier to avoid it altogether. “We leave for tour in two days. ”
His eyes roam my face. He twists his cup in his hands. “So what do we do?”
He’s made it clear what he wants, but he’s letting me choose. It’s not a hard decision. I have to pick the tour. Even when he’s looking at me like I’m the fulfillment of his one and only wish, the tour has to come first. I search my mind for something concrete to say, something solid. Something that will put an end to the question once and for all.
“We have to keep things professional, like actors on a movie set.”
“You mean like all the actors who end up together?”
I roll my eyes. “We keep it about the music, about the show and the songs. That’s why we’re doing this, isn’t it? You didn’t audition for the tour because of me. You did it for you, for your songs.”
His expression turns hopeful. “What about artists who are serious about the music but are also friends? We can do that, right?” I can’t tell what he’s truly feeling. His tone is always so flirty, so carefree.
“What kind of friends?” I ask.
He lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “Not the kind who kiss in alcoves. Just the kind who sing about it.”
I can’t help but smile. “I can live with that.”
I check the time on my phone.
“I need to get back.” I stand up to leave.
“Wait. One question.” He stands up and moves right in front of me, close enough I have to turn my face up to his. “If this tour wasn’t happening. If we’d met earlier…”
He wants me to say it would be so easy. Fun. Insanely hot. Wild in the best way. He wants me to give in, to acknowledge the current buzzing between us.
“We can’t live in what ifs, Kick.”
“Think about it,” he says, voice low. “We still have two days. We could spend some quality time together. Get it out of our system before the tour starts. ”
It’s like he knows the exact thing to say to break down my defenses. Because yes, we could do some serious damage to each other in two days. Emphasis on damage.
“Keep it in your pants, Raines. We’re friends, remember?”
He lifts his eyebrows. “You’re the one thinking about what’s in my pants.”