“My sister is on a road trip. She’s alone and I can’t help but—”
“Dallas. Please, please do not make me remind you once again how huge this opportunity is. Wade’s album is number one on every outlet right now. The tour is sold out. And you are on it. Do you even have any idea how hard Neil and I have worked for this? For you?”
I nod, being careful to keep my mouth shut. I know that she and my agent have both worked hard. I’ve worked pretty fucking hard, too, but that rarely gets mentioned or even acknowledged.
“It’s been a long day. I’m good. Tired. But good. Promise.” Basically a bus and then a tiny hotel room in Nashville have been home for the past few weeks. And I’m about to hop my ass right back on the road tomorrow night. Thank fuck my sister is ending her little excursion just as this tour is beginning. I really don’t think I could handle this and worrying about her, too.
“Well, get some sleep then. The car will be waiting out front at nine A.M. sharp to take you to the airport.”
I nod while standing up from the table. “Got it. See you in the morning.”
“You’re not walking me to my room?” Mandy pouts. “And here I thought you were a gentleman.”
I swallow the uneasy feeling that rises in my throat. It’s not the first time she’s hinted at crossing the professional line with me and I can’t ever tell just how serious she is.
“I am a gentleman, Miss Lantram. That’s why it’s better if I don’t. Have a good night now.” I grin and make my way quickly out of the room.
There. Maybe she’ll feel flattered.
For as much as Mandy Lantram keeps reminding me to stay focused and keep my eyes on the prize, I’ve noticed her focus and her eyes wandering a bit. To my mouth, across the expanse of my chest, and down to my cock.
More than once.
Either my alarm is going off or the building is on fire.
I roll over and groan, throwing an arm over my face when sunlight hits me square in the face. Stretching as far as my back will allow, I yawn before my hand drops to my morning wood.
Sorry, buddy.
My schedule is so fucking tight I don’t even have time to jerk off these days. A cold shower and a cold breakfast and then I’m dressed and sliding into a black Lincoln beside my manager.
“Good morning, Superstar,” Mandy purrs while lowering the cell phone that seems permanently attached to her palm. A thick curtain of black hair sweeps over her left shoulder.
How she manages to look this hot at nine in the morning is beyond me, but I’m trying damn hard not to notice. She smells like expensive shampoo and flowers—it’s almost overwhelming but my dick has no sense of smell so he twitches to inquire about whether or not she’s available.
Not to us, big guy.
If there is one thing I don’t want to fuck up, literally, it’s my relationship with anyone who has power over my career. So there’s a line, whether Mandy’s wandering eyes realize it or not, and it’s one I won’t cross. No matter how interested my dick is when she stretches her mile-long legs.
Thankfully the airport isn’t far from the hotel and I’m free from the suffocating confines of the backseat.
As we make our way through security checkpoints, Mandy hands out tips as if I haven’t just finished one tour.
“Be sure you’re tweeting and posting on Facebook about how excited and honored you are to be on this tour. Tag Jase and Midnight Bay Bourbon when you do. Hashtag KickinUpCrazy.”
I grumble a little under my breath. Dixie typically handled the social media bullshit for Leaving Amarillo. Pulling out my phone, I try to fire off a quick text to my sister to see if she’s heard from Gavin yet, but I have no service.
Mandy scoffs at me. “I didn’t mean right this second. I just meant later tonight. You need to put your phone on airplane mode anyway.”
I don’t bother informing her of what I was actually up to.