Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 144435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
"I’ll admit it. We did kick ass together," Jax mumbles, shocking the hell out of me. I figured we'd have to drag him kicking and screaming the whole way.
"So are we good? We gonna bring the fire one last time for our fans?" I ask.
"Let’s light this shit up!" Jameson grins.
I glance at the other guys and see them nodding their agreement, matching grins on their faces.
Fuck. We're actually going to give this a real shot.
Chapter One
CRUE
"There's another one," Mason says, his eyes directed at the dressing room across from ours.
"Another what?" I play dumb, pretending I don't know exactly what he's talking about. As if anyone around here has been able to forget the small cadre of wild women who have infiltrated our tour.
When our tour manager, Shelby Fitzgerald, mentioned bringing along a few friends to some of the shows, we didn't think it'd be a big deal. We scratch her back, she scratches ours, right? We should have read the fine print. Shelby's friends quickly turned the tour upside down.
Every time a new girl joins the group, another one of my friends bites the dust.
Jax was the first to fall. He landed on his knees for Dani right before the tour started. Our head of security, Xander, was the next to fall. Beckett fell shortly thereafter…which turned out to be a good thing since the sneaky fucker was planning to write a tell-all about us. Falling for Resa changed his plans to some degree. He's still writing the book, but we have veto power now.
And then Asher started following Brielle around with hearts in his eyes. I don't know what the fuck is going on with Jameson, but he's been acting weird since the tour started…right about the time our new tour manager waltzed in. And Mason has his own situation going on. His nose is stuck in his phone more often than not.
We're falling like fucking dominoes around here. It's impressive and terrifying.
I seem to be the last motherfucker standing. And the last thing I need to do is fall in love on this tour. We're halfway through.
Surely Shelby is almost out of friends by now, right?
"Another girl," Mason growls, stomping toward the stage with me. "She has another friend."
"So you're pissed she has friends?"
Mason doesn't handle people well. Ironic, all things considered, but true. He prefers them in small doses.
He shoots me a dirty glare. "Do you want to end up bloody married by the end of this tour, motherfucker? Because you just might if she keeps collecting friends in every city."
"Yeah, that's not happening."
"Yeah?" He smirks like he knows something I don't. "We'll see."
"What does that mean?"
He ignores me, so I grab his arm, halting him in his tracks.
"What does that mean, Binksy?" I growl the nickname he hates, not playing this cryptic shit. I've gone out of my way to avoid being linked with anyone this entire tour. I refuse to be fodder for the tabloids again. Being labeled the heartthrob ten years ago was a goddamn nightmare, especially when I was a fucking virgin. I had nightmares about the media finding out the truth and spilling my big secret to the world. I wasn't ashamed, but every single part of my life was under a microscope. I didn't want to share that part with the entire world, too. It was none of their goddamn business.
Jax had it bad, but none of us escaped unscathed. I've gotten used to the privacy I've carved out for myself in the last ten years. No one gives a shit about a former boy bander in a city like Nashville. I fly under the radar, especially since my brother, Cortez, became a certified billionaire.
I've managed to stay out of the tabloids for the majority of this tour. I'd like to keep it that way. Particularly given that I'm ten years older and still carrying the same secret. The tabloids would have a field day with the fact that I'm a virgin at my age. I'm still not ashamed of my choice, but I still don't have any intention of sharing my personal business with the whole world, either. They're vultures. And my sex life isn't gossip.
"They were talking about you," Mase says. "The new bird wants an interview."
"Hell no." I've been nice and more than patient with the girls. Even when shit has gone completely sideways because the guys have stars in their eyes, I've been supportive. But I draw the line at giving an interview. We've done plenty of those on this tour. They all ask the same bullshit, asinine questions.
"Knew you'd say that," Mason smirks at me. "Just don't be a right arse when you shoot her down. She's staying for the rest of the tour."
Of course she is. This tour is quickly becoming my own personal hell. It serves me right for pretending to be all kumbaya about it to the guys. Karma is a bitch. The only thing that works faster is the internet.