Rye

Tinsley: I booked my flight to Vegas.

Rye: Great

Real fucking great. I slip my phone back into my pocket and take one last swig of water before tucking my In-Ear back in. This show has been wild, the crowd's alive and screaming while we play our hearts out. I must have seen a hundred signs so far with messages about Tinsley and I, the public seems to either love the idea of us together or hate her for me and the latest picture has only added gasoline to that flame.

Launi steps backstage searching for someone. I try to ignore her, but she heads in my direction. I'm so pissed I don't even want to see her.

"Rye," she says, standing in front of my path to exit.

"It's the encore," I inform her even though she clearly already knows since she knew exactly where to find me. "Got to go play your song." I know the words sting more than I intended, but you know what else stung? Reading through that ridiculous contract that makes me continue to pretend to be with Tinsley. I'm a puppet only now the puppeteer is Launi. Awesome.

"I need to talk to you," she says.

"I signed it," I tell her, having to shout above the growing roar of the crowd now that the door is being held open by the venue staff. The rest of the band moves out into the small corridor near the stage.

"Rye," she says more urgently, moving even closer.

Tonight she is wearing the tightest jeans I've ever seen her in and a tank top that swoops low in the front. She looks phenomenal, the bite in her voice and anger in her attitude making her all the more irresistible.

I step toward her, lifting my shirt to wipe my sweaty face, I love the way her eyes follow the path of my arms down to my bare abs before she looks up again.

Launi retreats, but I follow.

"You'll have to get close," I tell her, pointing to the In-Ears I could easily take out again but won't.

"You're not answering my email..." she starts.

I laugh. "Does it look like I can answer your email?" I ask, splaying my arms out to emphasize that we are backstage at a concert where I'm a performer.

Her brows draw together and she moves towards me again. This time I touch her waist, using the loop of her pants to pull her mostly out of view of the open door. It's risky, but I have limited time.

"Rye," she protests, but then follows my lead as I guide her to the small cove in the wall where the noise is less and the privacy is greater.

When her back meets the cold concrete, she sucks in a breath. The contrast between my hot flesh and the cool surface causes her to gasp. I lean in, moving my ear to her mouth and then look into her eyes again, silently communicating the closeness is needed if she wants me to hear what she has to say above the noise around us.

"What do you want, Launi?" I ask, slowly placing my thigh between her legs.

Her hands are at her side innocently, but they begin to move up to brace herself against my chest.

"We need to talk about Tinsley," she says weakly.

"Oh," I say with a chuckle, my hand at her hip sliding lower as I adjust my stance. "You want to talk about Tinsley...right now...?"

She freezes. Judging from her flushed cheeks and shallow breathing, I'd bet a lot of money she doesn't actually want to talk about Tinsley. She's just doing what she thinks she needs to do for her job.

"We need to," she starts, but when she doesn't continue, I lift my brows and tilt my head. Her eyes are taking in every feature of my face. I know this look, it's lust. I'm sure I look the same way to her.

I lean in very close, letting the side of my face rest against her cheek as I say in her ear, "We need to what Launi?" My lips brush purposefully against her ear lobe and along her jaw as I pull back.

Launi closes her eyes, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath. Our faces are so close together, if I didn't tilt mine we'd be kissing. Even now, our noses almost touch and I can feel the warmth from her lips. She wants to kiss me, but she won't make the first move. If I had any more time, I might be able to end this whole stupid game right now, but the stage manager is screaming in my ear that it's time.

I pull my body entirely from hers and watch as she regains her footing. Her eyes are wide with shock as I step back. "I have to go." I point to the open door. For a second a look of complete terror crosses her face when she realizes that anyone could have walked in on that. Then I say, "If you want to talk to me about something, you'll have to come to my room."

I don't look back as I jog to the stage where the band is waiting.