Girl on Tour (Kylie Ryans) (9 page)

“T
hank
you, Birmingham! Y’all are beautiful!” After two encores, Trace exited the stage at the Oak Mountain Amphitheater and headed back towards the bus. Gretchen was closing the first show and he couldn’t have been happier. He’d waited all day to talk to Kylie, and then she’d canceled their Skype date because of a meeting with the guy helping them with their tour site stuff. She didn’t have a show tonight so he’d promised to call her as soon as he was done performing.

Once he’d thanked the guys and chatted with Mike a bit to make sure he was hanging in there, he hopped on the bus and grabbed his phone.

“Hey.” She sounded tired and kind of like she’d been crying.

“Hey, baby. Everything okay?”

“Oh yeah. Everything’s wonderful.” Her tone was laced with something lethal. Anger. She was angry. But she was playing it off for some reason.

“Doesn’t sound wonderful. You and the girls gettin’ along?”

“Not really. You and
Gretchen
gettin’ along?” Oh shit. That did not sound good. She said Gretchen’s name like it burned in her mouth.

“Er, I guess so. I mostly avoid her. She’s…got some issues.”

Kylie snorted out a harsh laugh. “Really? From what I saw, it doesn’t look like you’re avoiding her at all.”

“Um, babe, I don’t know what you think you’ve seen but Gretchen and I—”

“You listen to me, Trace Corbin. Don’t you dare talk to me like I’m some naïve idiot who doesn’t know what she’s seen. Please go suck it up and Google your fucking self.” With that, she hung up. Actually hung the hell up on him. Well this night was going downhill fast. She knew good and well he had a strict rule about not ever looking himself up online. He forbade his sisters from doing it too. He’d advised her to do the same. Because people were assholes. The anonymity of the Internet really tended to bring out the inner asshole in some. But his girl was upset about something she’d seen and he had to know what it was. As soon as he got a drink.

His hands shook as he poured himself a few inches of dark liquid in a plastic cup. He made a point to screw the lid back on the bottle. This was it. Just enough to take the edge off, to slow the adrenaline coursing through him.

He pulled out his laptop and tried to log onto the Internet. Apparently the backside of a mountain in Alabama wasn’t a great service area. He didn’t even want to imagine what she’d seen about him and Gretchen.

He closed his eyes and tried to think. He knew one girl who was always online and generally made a habit of knowing more than she should. Plus he missed her and wanted to hear her voice. So he finished his drink, savoring the slow, sweet burn while he pulled her number up on his phone. She picked up on the first ring. He held the phone a little ways away from his ear in anticipation of her squealing.

“Trace! I was just thinking about you!” Yep, there was squealing. Good thing he’d been prepared.

“Hey, baby girl. You missin’ me?”

“You know I am!” He could practically see her beautiful smile. The same one that had wrapped him around her little finger the first time he’d ever seen it.

“I miss you too, Rae. But I’m actually calling because Kylie’s upset with me and—”

His little sister, who, much to his dismay wasn’t so little anymore, interrupted him. “Oh no! Why?”

“Because I’m practically an expert in the art of pissing off women.”

Rae laughed softly. “Nah, you make me pretty happy. I’m still loving my car by the way.”

Trace grinned despite the heap of trouble he was in at the moment. “You’re wearing your seatbelt and not texting and driving, right?”

“Yes,
Dad.

An ice-cold hand plunged into his chest and squeezed. He wished he
had
been her dad instead of the sorry fucker they’d been stuck with. May his black soul not rest in peace. But he was ten years older than her, so he was the closest thing she had. Just the thought of the man had him pouring himself another drink. “Rae, I need you to Google me. Please.”

“But you said never to—”

“I know what I said. But Kylie’s really upset and I have no idea what I’ve done this time.” He used the hand not holding his phone to rub his temples. This was not how he usually celebrated the end of a kickass show.

“Just a sec,” she said. He stood up and paced a path around the bus while he waited for her response. “Okay, you ready for this?”

No.
“Yeah, tell me what came up.” He eyed the bottle sitting on top of his dresser. He’d barely even broken the neck of it.
See? All under control.

He heard the girl take a deep breath. “Um, so there’s like three articles about you and Gretchen hooking up and having a night out on the town. The rest of the links look like just tour info. But on the images…”

“What about the images? Tell me.”

“The first one is of you and Gretchen Gibson taking body shots off of each other. The second is of you staring at her like an obsessed creeper while she plays pool. And the third is of you dancing together in a bar.”

Jesus Mary Mother. Some asshole had used the photo shoot pictures to make it look like he and Gretchen were involved. And out drinking together. No wonder Kylie Lou was so beside herself. He unscrewed the cap on his bourbon and took a swig straight from the bottle without even consciously meaning to.

He swallowed and took a deep breath. “Okay, we are going to discuss how you even know what body shots are at a later date. For now, please tell Claire Ann that it was a promotional photo shoot for the tour and that there was water in my shot glass if she sees them. I gotta go, baby girl. I love you.”

“Love you, too. Good luck with Kylie.”

“Thanks.”
I’m damn sure gonna need it.

“S
top looking at them.” Lily demanded as she slammed the computer screen closed.

“Hey!” Kylie protested, flipping the screen back up. “I might have been checking my email or posting on the blog.”

“No you weren’t. You were looking at those pictures. I could tell by the look on your face.”

“They were promos for the tour, he said.” She bit her lip. He’d called back and explained. She knew she needed to get a grip. It was just easier said than done.

“Whatever. I need the computer. My dad should be calling any second.” Lily plopped down next to her in the booth.

“Okay.” Kylie swallowed the lump that looking at the photos of Trace and Gretchen Gibson taking body shots off of each other had caused.

“Is she looking at them again?” Mia asked, poking her head into the media room and smirking at Kylie.
She’s probably enjoying this.

“Jesus. Can a girl not check her Facebook?” Kylie shook her head and stood. “I’m done, okay? Y’all can use the computer all you want.”

Mia stepped aside to let her out of the cramped room. “You’ll see him next week, right? He’s coming to the show, isn’t he?”

Is she trying to comfort me or does she want to see him as much as I do?

Kylie took a few deep breaths and tried to keep her voice calm. “Yeah, his show in Louisville is in the afternoon, and he should make it to the music festival by the time I go on. Long as y’all are still okay with me closing.”

Both girls nodded. Their expressions were matching masks of sympathy. Mia’s was tinged with disgust. Or pity. Or maybe amusement. Kylie wanted to scream. She’d have preferred they both go back to being bitchy.

“I’m going to bed.” She sulked to her room, semi-grateful that Lily had interrupted her. The CMA Music Festival where she’d be performing seemed a million miles away. He’d called right back after she’d acted like a childish idiot. She believed him about the photos. But it still hurt. Bad. She texted him goodnight, knowing he was probably asleep or busy. She lay awake for a long time, waiting for a text back. Just something that connected them. It had almost been six weeks since they’d been together on his farm in Macon. When she looked at the pictures of him and Gretchen, she couldn’t help but feel like she’d dreamed the whole thing.

Because when she closed her eyes, the images of Trace and a dark-haired woman drinking together, dancing, playing pool—looking for all the world like they were out on a date and having a hell of a time—flashed behind her eyes. She’d stared at them for so long they were burned into her retinas.

T
he next morning started with a Lily Taite breakdown of epic proportions. It was nearly enough to make Kylie forget all about the pictures of her boyfriend with another woman. Almost.

“Lily? Lily, come on. We’re gonna be late.” Kylie sighed as she watched Mia banging on the bathroom door. She leaned against the counter—at least she thought there was a counter under all the curling irons, shoes, clothes, and piles of makeup.

Kylie couldn’t even count which number breakdown this was. Once again, Lily had locked her crazy ass in the bathroom with her cellphone and was refusing to come out.

Mia knocked again. They’d been with Lily a few short weeks and they both knew her dad wasn’t going to show up for shit. Yet Lily was sixteen-years-old, had been dealing with him her whole life, and still didn’t seem to get it.

Kylie stepped towards the bathroom door. “Listen, Lil, we’re supposed to meet with Brian at that little diner so he can show us how to post videos and stuff to the site before tonight’s show.”

“I don’t care.” Lily’s muffled voice came from the other side of the door. “Just go on. I’m not going to post any stupid videos anyways.”

“Lily,” Mia began in her calmest voice. “This is part of our contract, remember? This isn’t something you can just stop doing because you’re having a bad day, okay?”

Kylie watched as Mia fumed at the door. She was a no-nonsense chick and Lily was practically made of nonsense.

“Go away!” Lily screamed.

“Listen to me!” Mia yelled right back. “Get your spoiled little ass out here and come the fuck on. Grow the hell up, Lily. You wanted this, wanted to be on this tour. So you are damn well on it. Now let’s go!” Mia smacked the door hard with her hand. Kylie winced. That was going to leave a mark.

And it didn’t work. Lily’s sobs got louder. Kylie shrugged at Mia. “Maybe we should just tell Brian she isn’t feeling well.”

“Right, let’s start making excuses for her like everyone else does. Great idea.”

Lily’s pampered princess act pissed her off too. But she also felt kind of sorry for her. If her daddy was still alive, she knew he’d put on his one dress shirt—the gray striped one he wore to weddings, funerals, and the few times they went to church—and come to every show of hers he could. A flicker of anger began to well up in Kylie’s gut. What the hell was Lily’s dad’s deal? Could he not be bothered to show his daughter a tiny bit of support or affection? Far as she’d seen, he hadn’t shown up for anything and his few calls left Lily in tears.

The night Lily had fallen off the tailgate in Oklahoma, she’d gotten wasted and cried and gone on about her dad not paying enough attention to her. Kylie had chalked it up to the alcohol. But she could see there was more to it. Lily had been all over several random guys at the party. Kylie practically had to drag her off of them and out of there. Girl might as well have had a neon sign flashing ‘Daddy Issues’ over her head. Lord help if
Country Weekly
ever found out about that.

She sucked in a breath and leaned past Mia towards the door again. “Lily, please come out so we can talk. You don’t have to go to dinner with us. I’ll see if Brian will write down the instructions. Or email them or something. Okay?”

Kylie heard shuffling and then the door opened. Lily looked like she’d been punched in the face. More than once. Kylie struggled to keep her shock from showing. After taking a deep breath, she stepped towards Lily, who clutched her phone like a lifeline. “Lil, why don’t you just tell us what happened? It’ll make you feel better to talk about it.” She didn’t know if this was true. She personally
hated
talking about her problems. But she and Lily were different that way.

“H-he,” she began, cutting herself off with a sob. The girl who usually seemed full of life and obnoxious energy suddenly seemed extremely small and weak. “He went to California. Said he had business to handle at his LA office. But really he was just at my brother’s soccer game instead of coming to see my show.” She held up her phone as evidence.

Kylie and Mia both leaned in to see the Facebook photo of an extremely good looking soccer player with his arm around an older man in a dress shirt who must’ve been Donovan Taite. Nice. He could fly across the country to see one kid kick a ball around, but he couldn’t drive five minutes up the road to see his daughter perform for hundreds of people? What the hell was this guy’s problem? Obviously he wasn’t a shitty dad to his son. Lily might be annoying but she was a sweet girl who worked hard. Kylie had a nagging suspicion she was working hard specifically to impress a dad who obviously didn’t think she was worth her weight in salt. Well…someone certainly needed a talking to.

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