Loving Dallas(24)

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m probably going to walk with a limp tomorrow.”

I grinned into her hair. “Fuck yeah, that makes me feel better.”

“I told you it had been a while. I didn’t know you had a sex marathon in mind.”

I tightened my grip around her body. “Me, either. Two in one night’s not something I normally do.”

“No? No all-night orgies with groupies then?”

For some reason, her tone pissed me off. Or maybe it was the accusation itself. “I don’t sleep with groupies.”

Robyn twisted in my arms so that she could face me. “Seriously? Never?”

“Never. Is that really what you think of me? That I’m just in this to hook up with my fans?”

She stared into my eyes for a full minute before answering. “No,” she said slowly. “But I think you’re a human being and most guys wouldn’t be able to resist a ton of girls throwing themselves at them night after night.”

“I’m not most guys, sweetheart. You know this.”

She settled back into my arms, nestling her pert little ass against me in a way that nearly necessitated a third round. “I’m glad.”

“I’m still me, Robyn. No matter what’s changed between us, I’m still me.”

That was it, the last conversation we’d had before I passed out. I couldn’t figure which part had sent her running.

But I damn sure intend to find out.





14 | Robyn

“I’M STILL ME,” HE’D SAID BEFORE FALLING ASLEEP.

I’d been about to snuggle down into that blissful murkiness of sleepy time when he’d said it.

No matter how much he’d changed, Dallas was still Dallas. And maybe I had a college degree and a big-girl job, but I was still the same girl he couldn’t forgive. I’d been an idiot, pushed him away so that he wouldn’t let my mom’s illness stop him from chasing his dreams. By the time I realized how unfair it was and how much I needed him, the damage was done and Dallas Lark had moved on.

I was the one who’d needed space, but Dallas ended up being the one to walk away for good.

Forget being on the same page; Dallas and I had been reading entirely different books when it came to our relationship. In mine, there was a happily ever after that involved making a life together. He wasn’t just in my story—he was my story. In his I was merely a chapter.

I’m still me.

I wanted to smack myself. Hard. Of course he was still him. And he’d still walk away, dragging my battered heart behind him while I watched him leave. I’d hurt him, deeply. And I’d live with that regret for the rest of my life. He’d still be the guy who chose music over me? over us. He had even more reason to now that he was on this tour.

I waited there in his arms, forcing my steel walls back up between us while he drifted into unconsciousness. Once his breathing was deep and the light rumble of a snore settled into a steady rhythm, I slipped out of his bed and gathered my things as quietly as I could. Dressing quickly, I watched him, memorizing that peaceful look on his handsome face and promising myself this was a one-time thing. I wasn’t going to obsess over it. It was a life experience, one I didn’t regret but knew I’d be crazy to repeat.

I chanced one last look as I left, before I shut the door completely. The light from the hotel hallway sliced across him and he looked so . . . alone.

I closed the door and told myself this was for the best. What would having breakfast together or sharing a cab to the airport change? Nothing, that’s what.

This time, I’d been the one to leave. For the sake of my sanity and my heart, I could never fall into bed with Dallas Lark again. Here I’d been hoping that one day we could be friends, and our first actual attempt turns into . . . I don’t even know what. I’ve never been a f*ck-buddy type of girl. Not that I don’t see the appeal to an exclusively physical mutually beneficial relationship, because I do. But it always seemed like a silly distraction, a waste of time that could be better spent finding something stable long term. But that, last night . . . I may not know exactly what it was, but it sure as hell wasn’t a waste of time.

I couldn’t stop thinking of him, of the way he looked at me, the smell of him, the way his calloused fingers felt on my skin, that stubble on his jaw, and dear Lord in Heaven, those sexy as sin whispered confessions. But now I was in Los Angeles getting ready for the National Business Bureau’s award ceremony, where I was accepting the award for Most Successful Family Run Business for Midnight Bay and I needed to focus. I called Katie to run through the reminders for the Kickin’ Up Crazy show she was handling in Kansas City and she wasn’t going to just let it go. Even though I was desperately trying to.

“Come on, Robyn. You never came back to the room last night. You expect me to believe the two of you spent the night reminiscing about the good old days? Have a sing-along, did you?”

I laugh at Katie’s pouting. I did get to hear him sing a little and her words conjure the erotic memory but I shake it off the best that I can. “No sing-alongs.”

I’m not like her. I didn’t have a lot of female friends growing up. I had Dixie, but she definitely didn’t want to hear about my sexual exploits with her brother. I had sorority sisters in college but mostly I kept my private business to myself.