Girl on Tour (Kylie Ryans) (21 page)

She wanted to say yes, of course. She would’ve demanded the Vitamin Water people take both of them if she’d known what Mia had been going through. But she was as hungry for this as anyone else. There wasn’t much she wouldn’t do to get it. Back then, anyways. Now a part of her wished she’d stayed as far from Nashville as she could have. But she wasn’t a liar. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “But I want you to know it wasn’t personal. I had no idea it was you they’d picked.” She felt like she was being pounded on by the anger in Mia’s eyes. “You don’t have to believe me, but I swear. All I knew was they’d picked someone else and recording that song was the only way to make them choose me.”
Oh God
. That song. It could come on the radio at any time. Kylie made a mental note to stay the hell away from all radios.

Mia didn’t say anything, but Kylie thought she saw the fiery rage in her eyes cool a bit. They were the same. Both of them willing to do whatever it took to make it. Something resembling understanding passed between them. She knew they might never be friends, but somehow they weren’t enemies anymore.

She took a deep breath. Being hollow was a weird feeling. She felt as if she could breathe in forever and never get enough air. Mia continued to glare and Kylie sighed. She’d used up all the energy she’d had left. “I don’t know what you want from me. Just go tell Capital you’ll take my place. Then we’ll be even.”

Recoiling like she’d been slapped, Mia’s expression ignited like she was thinking about
doing
some slapping. “I just signed with Electrick Records, thank you very much. Missed you at my signing party, by the way.”

“Congratulations.”

“Okay, I get it. You don’t want to talk. I’ll leave the food in your fridge for whenever you snap out of this pity coma you’re in.” With that, Mia stood. Kylie could see disgust and disappointment in her stare but she couldn’t bring herself to give two shits about what Mia or anyone else thought. She’d been tough. Been the strong one for long enough. She’d taken everything life had thrown at her and done the best she could to come out tougher on the other side. But enough was enough.

Mia turned her back and began making her way to the door. She stopped before reaching it. “Can I ask you something?”

“Long as you close the blinds and turn the lights off first.”

With an audible huff, she did as Kylie requested. “Kylie…what do you think your daddy would say to you right now?”

Well that was a cheap shot. Mia couldn’t know, but it just so happened to be the one-year anniversary of her father’s death. She wasn’t just grieving for the loss of one man she’d loved. She was grieving the loss of both of them. “Get out.”

Mia didn’t budge. “I will. Soon as you answer the question. How do you think he’d feel about this? About you pissing your dreams away over a man?”

The numbness she’d been mercifully blanketed in began to pitch and roll in waves, pulling back ever so slightly to reveal the exposed nerves. It felt like Mia was tearing her skin off and poking at the wound. “I think it doesn’t matter what he’d say. He’s dead.”

“You don’t get off on a technicality, Oklahoma. Your daddy is your daddy.”

“Oh yeah? What would you know about daddies, Mia? When was the last time you saw yours?” This time Kylie did wince. She didn’t enjoy causing other people pain. She just wanted to be left alone. Was that so much to ask? She was grateful for the darkness so she wouldn’t see Mia’s hurt expression. “Crap. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

“S’okay. It’s true, right? But here’s what I do know.” Light filled the room as Mia flipped on the lights and crossed the floor to yank the shades back up. “I know this isn’t you. This isn’t the Kylie Ryans I spent the last few months with. So get your ass up and work on getting over it. Before you wake up and realize you have nothing left.”

The tears came then. Hot and wet down her face and onto her pillow.

Too late.

Read an excerpt from the
Girl in Love, the third and final installment in the Kylie Ryans series

Other books by this author

“T
hank
y’all for coming. I know I’m not great company lately.” Kylie looked down at the glass of champagne she held instead of up into the eyes of the guests of her birthday party. The surprise party Mia and Lulu had thrown her. Biting her lip she gathered the courage to glance up. It had been nine months, nearly a year, since he’d walked out of her life. But she was still a shell of the person she used to be. She hid it well enough, or at least she hoped she did. She had two, well, technically three, hit songs to show for it. But the people in this room knew better. And she knew they knew.

The two scheming hosts, plus Carmen and her fiancé, Lily, Steven, and the guys in his band all looked at her with similar expressions. Pity. God she hated that look.

“You’ve been working so hard lately, you deserved a night of fun.” Lulu nudged her shoulder. “You did have fun, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I did. It was great.” She forced the biggest smile she could. Lulu’s eyes narrowed as she silently called
bullshit
.

“Hey, we should head out. Let you get some rest for your big day tomorrow.” Mia threw her a knowing look. Kylie thanked her with her eyes. Of all people, she never would’ve expected Mia to become the person who pulled her out of her own personal hell these past few months. But tomorrow wasn’t something she necessarily wanted to be reminded of.
The Other Side of Me
had gone platinum and the label was throwing a party. One she had no desire to go to. Not that she had a choice.

“I’ll walk you home, Mia,” Chris, Steven’s band’s lead singer, offered. Kylie’s eyes darted back and forth between Mia, Chris, and Steven. Steven’s face remained blank but she saw the slight tension stiffen shoulders. Now there was a weird little love triangle she was kind of curious about. She grinned to herself as she considered nicknaming Mia Yoko.

“We should get going, too. Our flight leaves early in the morning,” Carmen said, pulling Kylie into a side-arm hug before walking to the door with her man. “You comin,’ Lu?”

Kylie had told them all they could stay in her new place. It was big enough, that was for sure. But they’d insisted on getting hotel rooms. She had a feeling she knew why. She spent nearly every waking minute either writing or in the studio. She knew her weirdo behavior made people uncomfortable, and she didn’t miss the looks they shot each other when she zoned out and missed an entire conversation. But she had no idea how to help it.

“Um, nah. I’ll get a cab later. I’m going to stay and help clean up.”

“Don’t be silly. You did all this work and you’ve had a long trip. I can handle it.” Kylie gave her friend a lingering hug and whispered “thank you,” in her ear. She hugged everyone else goodbye as they left. Well, everyone except Steven who was still leaning on the bar in her kitchen. Part of her was glad he’d stayed behind. And part of her was nervous as to why. She didn’t mind cleaning up by herself. In fact, she preferred being alone. No smiles to fake or forced conversations. But sometimes being alone was…lonely.

Once they were gone, she turned back to the dark haired, tattoo-covered man in her kitchen. “I’m staying to help clean up. Like it or not, Ryans.”

She laughed. “Okay,
Blythe
.” They worked in comfortable silence for a few minutes, clearing beer bottles and washing dishes left over from the after party portion of the celebration.

“I’ll take this out to the dumpster.” Steven pulled the big black garbage bag from its can in her pantry.

“Thanks.”

She was bent over, putting the remaining unopened bottles of alcohol into her fridge when he retuned. The clearing of his throat startled her and she jumped, nearly slamming her head into the top of the stainless steel door. “God, you scared me.”

He gave her a wicked grin, provoking a twisting sensation all through her insides. “Feel free to call me God anytime, Ryans. Or moan
oh God
like the other night.”

Her eyes went wide and she slapped him lightly on the chest as he came closer. “I thought we weren’t ever going to mention that again?”

He responded with a cocky smirk that was as annoying as it was a turn on. “Who’s mentioning it?”

Her chest rose and fell rapidly as he came closer into her personal space. “Y-you are. I think.”

“Do you want me to stop?” He leaned in, the force of his bright blue eyes pressing her back against the fridge as he braced both arms on either side of her head. “Say the word and I will.”

She knew she should say it. Should tell him it was a mistake the other night, and would be a mistake now. She didn’t love him. Couldn’t love him. Couldn’t love anyone since she didn’t have enough of a heart left to love with. But that was what made it so tempting. He didn’t love her either. It was just comfort. Trace had up and walked out of her life. Mia had rejected him. They’d found a way to ease the pain. Together. But she felt like hell afterwards. Like she’d cheated on Trace. Or like she’d betrayed herself somehow.

But with him this close she couldn’t think straight. She closed her eyes and she still saw it. The source of her pain. Trace and Gretchen Gibson holding hands as they entered a rehab facility in Dallas. Hugging in a hotel doorway in Georgia. Arms wrapped around each other in a parking lot at a bar in Charlotte where he’d supposedly come to see her. They’d been blurry photos online and in the tabloids, but the images in her mind were crystal clear.

She licked her lips, knowing Steven could make them go away, even if it was just for a little while. “Same deal as before?”

“If that’s what you want.”

She sucked in a lungful of air. He smelled so damn good. Sharp and sweet all at once. A hint of men’s cologne and sugary icing from her birthday cake. “I want—”

She was interrupted by a harsh knock on her door. Well that was frustrating. She smiled at the irritated look on Steven’s face. “Wonder which one of them forgot something?”

“I’m kicking their ass, whoever it is.”

She giggled as they both headed for the door. “It might be Lulu, and when she threatens to junk punch you, she’s completely serious.”

Steven growled as they reached the door.

She laughed again. It was kind of nice being with him. Easy. “Consider yourself warned,” she told him with a grin.

But when she opened the door with him close behind her, the smile dropped straight off her face. Her world pitched hard left and then right as she completely lost her center of gravity. A bright bouquet of peachy pink roses, held by the last person on earth she expected to see, greeted her.

Emotions she’d held back for so long slammed into her like punches from a prizefighter. “W-what are you doing here?”

His hair was longer and what had once been stubble was a beard. But it was him. If she’d thought his hazel eyes had been stormy before, they were currently a tsunami of colors swirling and threatening to drown her that very second.

“Just wanted to wish you a happy birthday, Kylie Lou.”

Girl in Love
is the final book in the Kylie Ryans series and is due out February 1, 2014.

Other Books by this Author

What an amazing journey book two in the Kylie Ryans series has been for me. I couldn’t have ever finished this book without the help of some seriously fantastic individuals.

First of all, I have to thank each and every single blogger, reviewer, reader, and fellow author who contacted me via email, Twitter, Facebook, or GoodReads, to say they loved
Girl with Guitar
. Your encouragement inspires me to keep doing what I do every day. You are my support, my friends, and have become my family. Sorry, you’re stuck with me now. My Gutter Girls, Tessa, Erica, and Ashley, you are my A-Team and I could cry all over myself just thinking about what your friendship means to me. Thank you for beta reading this one and for promising to be my bodyguards when the threats of physical violence came. Totally taking y’all up on that.

I can’t even say enough about the sheer appreciation I have for people like Julie at A Tale of Many Reviews, Casey Peeler at Hardcover Therapy, Mickey at I’m a Book Shark, Kristy at Book Addict Mumma, Beth at The Indie Bookshelf, Laura at Between the Pages, Lindi at Inspiration for Creation, Stephanie, Kelly, and Tricia at Romance Addict Book Blog, and all of you who work so tirelessly to promote books and authors like myself. You don’t get nearly enough recognition for what you do and I am so grateful to have such wonderfully talented and generous people in my corner. Big hugs to my dear sweet proofreader Rahab who has eyes like a hawk and a big ol’ heart. I will send you all the country boys I got, girl.

To my critique partners, writing buddies, and fellow Love Junkies, Emily Tippetts, Elizabeth Lee, Anna Cruise, Rachel Brookes, Diane Alberts, and Rachel Harris, thank you all so much for your encouragement, friendship, honesty, and support. And for the emails that resemble therapy sessions so much that you should charge me. I couldn’t do this without you. I’ve learned so much from all of you and am blessed to call you my friends.

Speaking of Emily Tippetts, probably every book I ever publish will have a love letter to her in it because without her there’d be no Kylie Ryans series. She not only designs the covers and formats the books but she is the one who said “you have to publish this” way back when I had no idea what I was doing. (Not that I necessarily do now, but I’m learning y’all). Thank you, Emily, for reading my hideous first drafts and for your endless support of this series. For everything you do to contribute to and improve the writing community. You are a truly special and wonderful human being. I’ve said it before, but if I live to be one hundred, I’ll never be able to really repay you.

To Dominique—my dear sweet Puff, and Ashley Haid, thank you for Tweets that made sweet tea shoot out my nose and for allowing me to quote you both. This book is better because of both of you.

I have to thank my precious husband who is the hardest working man I know and who gives up what little bit of off time he has to be both mommy and daddy so that I can write. To my angel of a daughter who tolerates the many hours on end that I spend with my laptop instead of her and who has informed me she’ll allow mommy to work as long as I use the money to take her to where Mickey and Minnie live. Working on it, sweetie. Promise.

To those of you who have allowed me and Kylie and Trace into your homes, your eReaders, your secret Facebook groups, and your lives, THANK YOU SO MUCH. You will forever have a part of my heart. Those of you who participate in cover reveals, blog tours, release week events, and all the many things I ask of you without expecting anything in return, you are truly precious to me. I would squeeze you all entirely too hard if I could reach you.

To Tyler Farr, Hannah Moon, Steven Waldon, and the many musicians and talented management professionals who answered my bazillion questions about touring and the music industry, bless you for your patience with me. You are all rock stars in my eyes.

I have to say one last I heart your faces to each and every one of you who promised to stick this journey out even though this book probably just shattered your heart into a million pieces. I promise I’ll put it back together again as soon as humanly possible.

Big smothery hugs to those of you who purchase the Kylie Ryans books during their release week. All sales profits from that week go to The Red Cross for Oklahoma Disaster Relief and I would never in a million years be able to give such a sizeable donation without y’all.

Lastly, thank you to Casey Beathard and Monty Criswell for writing
Like Jesus Does
and to Eric Church for recoding it. Y’all have no idea who I am and probably never will, but your song changed my life and added something truly special to the ending of this book. It has become the theme song to my marriage, though I can hardly listen to it right now because it provokes an emotional breakdown of epic proportions, but it is the most beautiful testament to unconditional love I’ve ever heard.

I probably forgot to name a few phenomenal people who have done amazing things for me that I didn’t deserve, so to those of you, I apologize. I’m a flawed individual with a scrambled, sleep-deprived brain and you deserve better. Please accept this as my heartfelt apology and appreciation.