What On-Tour Singer Currently Feuding With Her Mama Has a Mystery Hunk Climbing Aboard Her Bus Every Night?
FIVE CITIES, FIVE CONCERTS, five drive-all-night bus rides. And now, with the morning sun lighting their way, they were rolling through town number six.
P.J. watched Denver unfold outside the window and memories of living on its streets, first by herself, then with Jared, began piling up faster than she knew how to handle. She stole a quickie peek at the banquette where J sat engrossed in a book, sipping a cup of coffee.
He didn't spare her so much as a glance in return.
Of course not. Acid cramped her stomach. Never mind that Denver was where they'd met, the city where they'd gone through so much together, where they'd relied on each other to stay sane. She'd taught him every bit of street savvy she'd learned there. He'd comforted her, talked to her, been her friend. Hell, even though he was a person of interest wanted for questioning in his father's murder, he'd risked exposure to face down a pervert for her-all because she'd called Mama begging to come home and had been told she'd made her bed and could just lie in it. When she'd flipped out as a result and was about to throw herself over the edge, Jared had pulled her back.
But no, never mind all that.
Because ever since L.A. he'd gone back to being Mr. Professional Bodyguard or Security Guy or whatever the hell he was supposed to be. And she was ready to scream.
Or cry.
Or-hey, here was an idea-shoot him.
The last option was gaining favor by the minute. For really, it beat the heck out of crying. And screaming was so bad for the voice.
Not to mention that she was just plain ticked. Because try as she might, she couldn't get their incredible encounter out of her mind.
She had never known sex couldbe like that. It had blown her away, and she'd thought of little else for the past six days. Not merely about the orgasms, either, which had been a revelation all their own. But about the comfort of being in his arms afterward, the feel of his voice rumbling beneath her ear and speaking over her head at the same time as he'd said those nice, nice things about her. She had felt close to him in a way she'd never felt with anyone else. She'd felt safe.
Jared apparently hadn't found it particularly special. Otherwise he wouldn't be so freaking determined to act as if it had never happened.
Her life had been turned upside down and inside out, while his-
Well, his clearly hadn't. Not if he could go from what they had shared back to treating her like good ol' Peej.
She'd probably stunk at it. She was twenty-eight years old and hardly a virgin, but neither did she have a lot of know-how on her side. She'd been nineteen the first time she'd done the deed, years behind most of the girls she'd known. Nineteen when Johnny Ripley had sweet-talked her out of her panties in the bed of his pickup truck down at the end of the dirt road next to old man Hemming's orchard. The experience had been messy and uncomfortable and had cured her of her crush on Johnny but good.
It had improved with the next guy, but not by leaps and bounds. Same thing with the guy after that-it had been better, but not by much. The truth was, she'd mostly been too busy trying to get her foot in the music-industry door to bother with it much.
Then Jared had come roaring back into her life and introduced her to Sex with a capitalSsss.
And at the risk of repeating herself, she'd probably stunk like a skunk at it.
Well, she didn't care. So what if he was some hotshot stud between the sheets and she did the wild thing with all the expertise of the thirteen-year-old he'd known back when? She had other skills. Hell, dollars to doughnuts the only place Jared could carry a tune was in the shower.
But that wasn't a place she cared to picture him in, since she knew only too well how good he looked in it. They'd made love there, too.
Besides, maybe he was sorry they had done itbecause of his memories of the girl she'd once been. Or it was possible that he didn't like women who made the first move. Of course, if she'd waited for him to make it, they probably never would have had sex at all, and she refused to be sorry that they had. Or maybe-
"Arrgh!" She thunked her head against the window.
"You okay?" Nell asked vaguely, looking up from the score she'd been laboring over night and day since L.A.
"Yeah, sure."Ducky. She dredged up a smile for her friend, but inside she was screaming,Get me out of here! It was only eight a.m. and already she was sick of being cooped up on this bus with everyone.
It had never occurred to her when they'd first set out on this tour that such close contact with her band might develop into a problem. And, really, it hadn't-at least not into a big one. But she had to get away for a while. Maybe check into a nice hotel, sign herself up for a few spa treatments. They were a good eight hours away from the sound check for tonight's show, and what was the point of being a big-whoop singing sensation if she couldn't get away every now and then to enjoy the benefits? Everyone was a little edgy from so much togetherness; they were beginning to rub on each other's nerves.
About the only one who hadn't gotten on hers the past several days was Nell. That was a two-edged sword though, because not only did her friend have her hands full with managerial duties, she'd been spending every moment not devoted to her paying job hunched over her music sheets, composing. Songwriting drew her deep inside herself. P.J. knew how time-consuming it could be, and she respected the process too well to interrupt the flow.
At the same time, she was tired of tiptoeing around. She hadn't turned the television on or the stereo up for days now for fear of disturbing Nell's concentration. Running would have been an outlet, but even that had been denied her more often than not. Jared insisted she only run when he could accompany her but then he'd had one excuse after another not to do so. And her stress levels had kept building and building.
Until she felt ready to explode.
Well, she'd reached her saturation point. Between being back in Denver and being stuck in close quarters with Jared, wondering every damn time she opened a door if he'd be on the other side of it-knowing that even if he was he'd only ignore the fact they'd had sheet-scorching sex-she needed to clear her head. Needed to gain some perspective.
They were playing three cities on this leg of the tour. Tonight's show was near here. Denver was centrally located between the other two cities, and following the Colorado College gig in Colorado Springs tomorrow night they even had an honest-to-God day off before playing Fort Collins. So her mind was made up. She was getting herself a big private room and commuting to the next three concerts.
Jared, of course, would feel that it was his job to accompany her, which would defeat the purpose of the exercise. So why tell him? It wasn't like there'd been any further contact from the weirdo in Bakersfield. That disturbingly doctored magazine spread thankfully had been a one-shot deal.
While Marvin pulled into the Red Rock Amphitheater's lot west of town, talked to an attendant, then jockeyed the bus into a space reserved for performers, P.J. came up with a possible way to get out from under Jared's indifferent yet watchful eyes. Going back to the stateroom, she packed a small overnight bag and made two phone calls.
When she came out again she collected her backstage pass from Nell. For one crazy moment she considered simply making a break for the door, but knew she wouldn't get far. So she asked for Jared's pass, as well, then walked over to him where he still sat at the table. "Come with me."
Placing his finger in his book to mark his place, he looked up at her. "Where?"
"I want to check out my dressing room." Seeing his gaze grow wary didn't exactly knock her on her butt with surprise, considering what had happened the last time they'd been in one together. But it stabbed her to the quick.