Loving Dallas(70)

I want to see her, to go to her place and apologize and lay my heart on the line. But now that it’s time, I’m chickening out for fear of two possible outcomes. One, her new man is there and I kill him and go to jail instead of on tour. Two, she feels the same way and dumps her new man and spends her life sitting around waiting on me to finish living my dream.

Neither of those feels right.

Not really.

So I pull out my phone and take the mangina way out. Texting. Which was probably invented by a coward who’d acted like a jackass and needed to apologize to some girl but didn’t have the balls to do it on the phone or in person. Cowards unite, Dude.

I’m sorry for being such an ass. I understand why you haven’t called me back. I’m happy for you and I should’ve said that instead of storming out. Tell your new guy he’s lucky I’m leaving the country and that he better treat you right.

When she doesn’t reply, I send one more—one that says three words I should have told her in person—and then I shut my phone off because I’ve become too much of a * to even handle her goodbye.

“I’m so glad the label decided to add Rio to the tour. The food is amazing, the people are beautiful, and wait until you see the water. It’s this incredible shade of aquamarine and so clear you wouldn’t believe it.”

Mandy prattles on in the back of the town car that’s taking us to the airport. I couldn’t give two f*cks about leaving the country right now. Or what color the water is anywhere. The only color I care about right now is emerald. The color of Robyn’s eyes. They darken to jade when I piss her off. And they’re lighter, peridot maybe, when they’re filled with tears.

Propping my elbow on the ledge of the tinted window, I stare out at Texas as it passes.

When we pull up to the Dallas–Fort Worth airport, the driver gets out and handles checking our luggage. I don’t have much. A guitar. Two suitcases full of clothes. Everything else will be handled by crew members.

“Come on, Superstar,” Mandy says, linking her arm with mine. The contact pisses me off.

“Enough with the superstar shit,” I say, ignoring the years of manners that have been ingrained in me.

Mandy jerks her arm loose and glares at me.

“Excuse me? Do you have a problem we need to handle, Dallas? Because right now, on the way to the biggest opportunity of your life, I can’t even imagine what could be putting you in such a bad mood.”

“Guess you aren’t very creative then,” I grumble, following the entourage with us toward a private security entrance we’ve been cleared for. Behind me I can already hear people losing their shit over Wade. Camera phones are flashing everywhere. I keep my sunglasses on and my head down.

“Hey,” she says, practically stomping her designer stiletto on the floor. “Talk to me. What’s the problem here?”

I don’t exactly have the words and if I did, she’d be the last person I’d share them with.

“I’m tired is all,” I say. “Sorry.”

“If you need to blow off some steam, it’s a long flight. Our seats are together. We could—”

“No,” I say too quickly. “No thanks, I mean.” Pass, Mandy. Hard f*cking pass.

“You should know something, Dallas,” she murmurs low as she takes my arm again without my having offered it. “I always—and I mean always—get what I want.”

“Must be nice,” I say drily.

She huffs out a breath and whips her hair behind her. Within seconds she has her trusty cell phone out and is steadily ignoring my temperamental ass.

I’m lost in thought, when I hear someone calling my name. We’re almost to the security checkpoint so I ignore it, assuming it’s an overzealous fan who won’t be able to get through without a ticket. Our protective detail pulls in tighter so I can’t see who it is anyway.

But then I hear it again and I recognize the voice.

“Back up, fellas,” Wade tells the bodyguards from behind me. “He’ll want to see this one.”

I stop, causing several guys to bump into me. Mandy hisses something hateful under her breath but I don’t care.

Robyn is here. And she’s jumping up and down and calling my name and hand to God, she’s the best sight I’ve ever seen. Even if it’s just to say goodbye or piss off, I’ll take it.

“Hang on, baby,” I call out. “I’m coming.”

I make my way through the crowd over to the window wall she’s standing beside.

“Sorry,” she says when I finally reach her. “I didn’t mean to make a scene. I was afraid I wouldn’t catch you before you hit security and I wouldn’t be able to get through.”

“It’s fine. You okay?”

Her hair is in a messy ponytail, like she ran here from her apartment. Her face is flushed and her eyes are wide with panic.

“I will be. I just, I got your message and . . . maybe we should sit down.” She gestures to a round cushion thing next to a plant.

“Uh, babe? I don’t exactly have a lot of time.” I glance over to the small group that has remained behind to wait for me. Mandy and a few security guys.

“Yeah. Of course. Right.” She looks nervous, terrified actually, but I can’t imagine why.

“Are you coming with us to Mexico?” Because that would be fan-f*cking-tastic if she were.