16. Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Sixteen
O akley pressed his eyes shut, clenched his hand around the water bottle he’d grabbed from the greenroom, and tried to remember the tips he’d read from one of the many blogs by successful tour managers he’d scoured over. The crew was competent, the schedule was laid out, everything seemed to be going according to plan…
But there was an hour left before XIV Hours hit the stage and he had no clue where a single member of the band was.
It was his job to know.
His first show and he’d already fucked up.
“Deep breaths, Oakley. Hey, look at me.” Vanessa’s tone quieted when he jumped. She put her hand on his forearm. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“You didn’t. I’m fine. Everything’s fine.” He grinned at her skeptical look. “I would like to know how you appear without making a damn sound, though. Maybe if I mastered the skill, our band wouldn’t be able to hide from me.”
Her brow furrowed slightly and she rubbed his arm as she leaned against the wall beside him, glancing from the greenroom door, to the long hall littered with cases from sound equipment and instruments.
“They’re not hiding—not sure what brought you to that conclusion, but next time you’re worried, ask me.” She gave his arm a light squeeze when he met her eyes. “Annette is with Balthazar and Connor at a little tea shop across the street. Orion and Quinton are helping the opening band set up. Kace is on the Winter’s Wrath bus hanging out with Dariel, and North is pretending he needs to be doing stuff near the dressing room while Tate’s getting his hair fixed.”
So damn obvious. Oakley nodded slowly. “I should’ve known—”
“You should have—and were —making sure everything was settled with the venue since we switched at the last minute. You oversaw the crew unloading the equipment, dealt with the paperwork, grabbed us rooms at a nice hotel.” Her hand slid up his arm, onto his shoulder, before she gave him a little shake. “My job is to keep an eye on the band and I’m not doing it alone.” She patted the walkie-talking on her hip with her free hand. “We’re both learning the ropes as we go, and I think we’re doing a damn good job. Trust me.”
“I do.” The strangling rope of self-doubt that had wrapped around him loosened as he met her steady gaze. She was right, he had to trust the other people involved in the tour would do their jobs to make it a success, but most of all, he trusted her. And her voice was much stronger than the one in his head that told him he couldn’t do this. “Thank you. I know it’s pathetic to—”
“Nope. Try again.” Her eyes sparkled when he blinked at her. “You’ve done enough shit talking yourself. Take a minute. Find a better word.”
He paused. Considered carefully. “I need to know I’m doing enough. And I don’t feel like I am.”
She smiled in a way that made him feel like he’d finally gotten something right. Rather than the world being huge and overwhelming and out of control, it narrowed to her soft brown eyes, her gentle touch, and the way her voice wrapped around him like sweetness and warmth woven into the smoothest fabric.
“I can relate. I’m supposed to keep them all safe, but I can’t force them to stay in one place to make it easier for me. And no matter what I do, until whoever’s stalking Annette is caught, I still have to see that fear in her eyes whenever she thinks no one’s looking.” Vanessa sighed and leaned heavily against the wall, her hand still on his shoulder. “I’ve been in active combat, I know how important it is to rely on the person guarding your back, but it was different. There were orders. Rules. Training.”
“And that doesn’t apply here.”
“It does and it doesn’t. Sometimes we dealt with civilians and they didn’t always behave as expected. So we’d adjust.” Her hand moved over his shoulder, to the base of his throat, her fingers brushing up the back of his neck making his pulse stutter. “Situation normal, all fucked up.”
Swallowing hard, he tried to regain his professional demeanor. Almost impossible with the way she was touching him. One word and she’d stop.
But he didn’t want her to. The contact felt nice. He hadn’t allowed anyone to get this close in a long time. Not since he could care for himself. He’d lost his independence for so long, had to see too much pity when people got close to him.
Vanessa didn’t offer pity. She talked to him as though he was whole and strong and only needed a reminder. Probably because she didn’t know better, but so what? If she believed he could handle this, maybe she was right.
He didn’t want her feeling like she had to hold his hand to convince him though. As nice as it was to be touched, this was nothing but comfort. Comfort from a beautiful woman, but she had a job to do. And so did he.
Clearing his throat, he pushed away from the wall, cold taking the place where her hand had been. “The band’s been on tour before and they were fine. I’m here to make things easier for them. And…I have?”
Straightening, she shot him another smile, this one stiff and professional. “No question about that. But I’ve made you uncomfortable again. I’m sorry.”
“Not at all. I appreciate you being here, I just don’t want to keep you from your work.”
“You haven’t. I just came from checking on North. Everyone will meet here within the next fifteen minutes. The venue has its own very competent security, so I’ll be flanking the side-stage with Balthazar. We’re all set.” She smoothed her hands down her black security T-shirt, then folded her arms under her breasts. “The band will likely stay after their set to watch Winter’s Wrath perform. Then we’ll head to the hotel. If anyone wants to go to the afterparty, I’ve got them covered.”
“Should I go with you?” Damn it, why had he asked that? He was trying to prove he could manage without her having to lay things out for him, and yet, all he’d done was make things chilly between them.
He shouldn’t want her comfort, her warmth, but he did. Losing it left him even more off-balance than before she’d come here.
One brow arched, she studied him for a moment. “Oakley, you’re going to have to let me know what you want from me. These mixed messages are frustrating. I don’t want to be overly friendly if you’re not comfortable with that. We can keep things all business.”
“Or…?” Another question he shouldn’t ask, but he couldn’t stop himself. What was she offering? She was a woman who knew what she wanted. So far out of his league the only reason he could picture her giving him the time of day was if she felt sorry for him.
Which he refused to accept. He’d had enough of that to last a lifetime.
Reaching out, she took his hand, her gaze never leaving his. “Why do you think I’m here?”
“Because I looked like I was ready to fall apart?”
Her lips quirked. “You did. And a good friend would make sure you’re all right, wouldn’t they?”
He pressed his eyes shut. How could he explain to her that he’d already been too much of a burden on the few friends he had left. “Vanessa… I don’t need anyone to make sure I’m all right. I am. And I’m grateful, but if that’s the only reason—”
“It’s not.” Vanessa sighed and shook her head. “I don’t know why it’s so difficult for you to understand that I care, but I can see that you’re not ready to discuss it. When you are, you know where I am.” She freed her hand from his and brought it up to cup his cheek. “But if this is too much, if me touching you bothers you, please tell me.”
Bother him? It was a struggle not to lean into her touch. Not to wonder if finally someone wanted to be near him. That he wasn’t a burden. That he could let himself stop questioning everyone’s motivations.
Because the last thing he wanted to do was question hers.
“It doesn’t bother me.”
Her thumb brushed over his cheek and there was a sadness in her eyes. “You need this, don’t you? We don’t have time to discuss it now, but one day, I want you to tell me why this is hard for you. Why you look so amazed that I’d want to do this.” She stroked her hand down the side of his neck and he closed his eyes, soaking in the sensation of her skin brushing over his. “You have no fucking clue what I see when I look at you.”
He wanted to know. He wished they had more time, because her touch was reaching a part of him he’d thought was dead. A part he wasn’t sure had anything to offer.
“I really like these vests on you, by the way.” Her hand moved from his neck and she hooked her fingers to the front of his vest, giving it a little tug. When his eyes shot open, she grinned at him. “Not a style I ever thought I’d find appealing on a man, but you make it work.”
Heat flooded his cheeks and he bit his bottom lip. “Umm…thank you?”
“Mmhmm.” She let out a soft laugh as she let her hand fall to her side. “I’m going to behave myself since we’re still at work, but I’d like you to consider something, Oakley. I’m not attracted to weak men.” Her lips quirked. “I don’t consider you weak.”
The crackle of her walkie-talkie broke the moment, but even after she shifted back to her no-nonsense demeanor, answering the call, then leaving him with a brief smile, he couldn’t quite get his brain to absorb what she’d said.
She was attracted to him?
How?
Why?
Ever since his accident, since he’d realized he could have some sort of life again, his focus had been on having what most would consider normal. Moving out of his mother’s house. Getting a job. Not being afraid to be out on his own. Dating hadn’t been on the list of priorities at first, and then, when he’d finally given in to the pressure from friends and gone on a few dates, none of the men or women had been…right.
A few wanted him because his mother was rich, so he must be too. He’d learned to evade that type by the time he’d hit puberty. Those his buddies set him up with? They were warned about his ‘condition’ and behaved almost…like going out with him was an act of charity.
He’d pretty much given up on dating and relationships. He had enough to deal with.
But Vanessa? When he let himself notice her as more than just an ally in this crazy new world he’d been thrust into, he couldn’t deny he wished he was the type of man who could flirt and tease and explore the spark between them. Or the one he sensed anyway.
He hadn’t even considered acting on his feelings because they must be one-sided. Vanessa was…incredible. Self-confident, capable of pretty much anything, kind and warm and gorgeous. Even first thing in the morning, slipping out of the horrible bunks they were forced to sleep in, she’d greet him in the kitchen, shooting him the sweetest smile, looking so…in control. Full of life and ready to face the world.
Everything he wasn’t.
Even after the first cup of coffee she remembered he took with plenty of cream and half a teaspoon of sugar. But she never seemed to mind him not wanting to talk until he’d stepped outside with his second cup. She’d join him and just wait. Just be there, sharing the quiet with him, knowing the right moment when to ask about what was planned for the day.
What would happen if he let her know he was interested? Could he?
The idea gave him both a rush of anticipation, and a gut clenching surge of dread. How could he initiate any kind of…courtship? Romance? Hell, he couldn’t even find a name for it. He enjoyed the friendship growing between them and didn’t want to lose that. But he wouldn’t say no to exploring something more.
He just wasn’t quite sure how to say yes.