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“Is there something I’m missing here?” Trevor’s eyes narrow slightly.
I shrug, aiming for nonchalance but likely missing by a mile. “Just looking out for the band’s dynamic. Office romances rarely end well.”
Trevor nods slowly, clearly unconvinced. “Right. Thanks for the... advice.”
He must think better of it, though, because he nods and lets out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, I figured it would be too good to be true. Someone as beautiful as her shouldn’t still be single.”
“Better luck with the next one, man.”
As he walks away, I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve just made things worse.
As soon as he disappears, I push the exit door open and jump into the back seat of a car Mia has ready for each of us after every rehearsal. She might not be here right now, but I can appreciate the steps she takes to make sure we’re all okay — especially after what happened with Evan.
I still can’t believe he came back to the band. If I were in his shoes and our former manager stalked me, I don’t know if I’d be able to keep doing it. He’s a strong guy, that’s for sure, and he has an even stronger wife.
The car takes a few random turns, just in case someone’s following us from the stadium, before heading for the hotel we’re staying in and pulling slowly up to the curb. I give the driver a quick wave, toss some bills over the seat for him, then climb out of the backseat and head through the front entrance.
I keep my head down, just in case someone ends up recognizing me, and I sigh a breath of relief when I notice that I’m the only one on the elevator. It only takes a couple of minutes for it to come to a stop, and I poke my head out and quickly make my way down the hall.
Once I’m safely in my room, I let my shoulders slump forward in exhaustion and toss my shirt onto the bed before sauntering intothe bathroom. I could really use a shower right now, especially after that conversation with Trevor.
The hotel room is a stark contrast to the bustling arena. Soft, warm lighting bathes the space in a golden glow. The hardwood floor has plush carpets scattered around to muffle my footsteps, and the faint hum of the air conditioning creates a cocoon of quiet. The king-size bed dominates the room, its crisp white sheets a tempting oasis of rest. Through the large window, the city skyline twinkles, a reminder of the world beyond this moment of solitude.
What was Trevor thinking, coming to me about Mallory? I run a hand through my hair, frustration building. The image of them together flashes through my mind, and I feel my jaw clench involuntarily.
I stride to the window, looking out at the city below. The lights blur as I lose focus, my reflection staring back at me accusingly. She's not mine, I remind myself. But the thought of her with someone else...
I turn abruptly from the window, pacing the length of the room. My fingers itch to grab my guitar, to channel this tumult of emotions into music.
What am I doing? Sabotaging Mallory’s potential relationships? I’m acting like a love-sick teenager, not a professional musician. But the thought of her with Trevor, or anyone else, feels like a physical pain in my chest.
As soon as I turn the shower on, there’s a loud knock on my door that catches my attention, and I quickly place my folded towel on the bathroom sink before hurrying over to the hotel room door. When I pull it open, I’m surprised to find Mallory standing outside of it, and she looks pissed.
Her cheeks are red, her eyes narrowed at me, and she storms past my frame without even bothering to wait for an invitation. I shut the door, making sure to lock it and lean against the thick wood while staring at her frame across the room.
She's let her hair down, the honey-brown strands catching the soft hotel light as they cascade down her back. The scent of her perfume, a delicate mix of jasmine and vanilla, wafts through the air as she paces. Her heels click rhythmically on the hardwood floor, creating a staccato beat that matches the rapid pounding of my heart.
There’s a look of pure concentration on her face, making my lips tip into a smirk, but it drops when she finally comes to a stop in front of me.
"I've been trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with you," she mutters, her voice a mix of anger and frustration. "Why are you acting like this?"
I frown, genuinely confused by her sudden outburst. "Acting like what? What are you talking about, Mallory?"
Mallory shakes her head and points a finger at my chest. “Uh uh, you don’t get to act like you’ve done nothing wrong. I don’t care how big of a rockstar you are.”
“Okay, that’s fine, as long as I know what the hell I’ve done.”
She chuckles. "You had the nerve to discourage Trevor from asking me out?" Mallory's eyes flash with indignation. "Who gave you the right to interfere in my personal life?"
I feel a knot forming in my stomach, realizing she must have overheard my conversation with Trevor. "How did you find out about that?"
“No one had to tell me. It doesn’t take much to be able to use the listening devices God granted me,” she hisses. “What right did you have talking to Trevor about me like that?”
I shrug. “Figured I was doing you a favor since you work for him.”
“Right.”
“It’s true.”
