Launi

The days of watching Free Pony and enjoying the show are behind me. I'm locked in on stirring the narrative. I spend the entire encore and the ride back to the hotel reposting on social media, commenting on the accounts that put the band in a good light and using a few burner accounts to manipulate the comment sections in favor of Tinsley and Rye being together. The problem with this plan is there's no escape hatch. The contract says the Rye and Tinsley will break up amicably, but I haven't quite envisioned how I will orchestrate that correctly to the public. I can't worry about it. Right now, I need to push the two of them together for the sake of the band and try to ignore how badly I want to allow Rye to blow this entire thing up.

The two of us are very stubborn. I won't budge and neither will he. If I want something to happen it will have to be my move. I consider that path, following it along in my head to the end of the road. The problem is, I know how it will end, and unlike Rye and Tinsley, no one will be choreographing an amicable break-up for us. We will crash and burn, taking the band and our family relationships and connections with us.

The crowd was crazy tonight, a sold-out venue filled with screaming women and die-hard male fans. Concerts always have people with signs, but I can't help but notice that the sheer number of home-made posters is rising exponentially. Tonight, they both praised and scold the relationship I'm set on solidifying publicly for the time being. To do that, I need prep Rye for the TV interview tomorrow. Tinsley will be flying in tonight and I need to have him ready before she gets here. It's important that the hotel staff sees them in the same place and that she doesn't have her own room. That information could be leaked and hurt the image I'm creating. The band is traveling to this stop on the tour by plane. Vegas is the city of sin and my father wanted to be there as quickly as possible to maximize his time. Rye and Tinsley will do the interview and then he and I will fly out with the band immediately after.

I take a quick shower in my room and throw on my sweats and a tank top. The interview will be a light piece that focuses on the two of them and how cute they are as the rockstar and up-and-coming movie star. Tinsley's PR, manager, and Rye's manager have worked out a few stories they can tell that will make them a couple like in the romance books. I grab my phone where my notes are stored and twist my hair up into a messy bun to make the trek to his room.

Sean's outside in the hallway. He  smiles and walks to meet me half way.

"Are you ready for Vegas?" he asks as we walk the few steps to Rye's room.

"Almost," I tell him.

"It's going to be brutally hot," he says, pointing out the room Rye is in.

I appreciate the small talk that's helping calm my nerves. "I like the heat," I say. "And Parker is meeting us there."

If I'm not mistaken, Sean seems to perk up a little at the mention of her name.

"That should be fun for you two," he says.

"If you have some time off, you should hang out with us like old times," I tell him. We are stopped in front of Rye's door.

"I'll check my schedule," Sean says. "A night out with you would be a good time."

The door swings open and Rye stands menacingly in the doorway. He stares down at Sean.

"Hi Rye," Sean says.

Rye nods in greeting. It's cold and expresses clearly he is in no mood to encourage the friendly banter. Sean nods his head and takes the hint.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Launi," Sean says.

Rye steps back, clearing a path for me to come inside while also blocking the entrance from Sean, not that he had any plans of following me into Rye's room.

"He seems super friendly," Rye says. He's in oversized joggers with no shirt. I can smell his clean scent and feel the heat from his shower radiating off his skin.

"That's Sean," I say, assuming the name will ring a bell.

"Ok, your 'friend' Sean seems friendly." His finger quotes make me smile. Oh, Rye is jealous. Welcome to my world.

"You know Sean," I say, crossing my arms at my chest. I love this. Rye is holding back what he wants to say, I can see it in the tick of his jaw and the slow breathing he is using to keep his cool.

"I'm not that chummy with security," he says.

"He hasn't always been your security," I tell him. I'm not letting him have any relief quicker than he can put the pieces together himself.

I make my way over to the bed and sit at the edge. Watching him suffer is bringing me joy. I cross my legs and lean back on my palms.

"Oh are we telling fun facts about Sean the security guard? This is the game? Ok, " he says moving to the dresser in front of me and perching on just the edge. His hands move to behind his back also as if matching my energy.

"Do you know a fun fact?" I ask.

"I do. Sean can be fired if he doesn't take his job seriously," he says.

I can't help but laugh at that threat.

"That's not a very fun fact," I tell him. "A fun fact is I've known him a very long time."

"A fun fact is he's taking you out in Vegas. That's a fun fact, right? I'm starting to understand now." Rye stands up, his irritation with the situation clear.

I stand up too. "You know Sean," I say. "Relax."

"I have nothing to do with the hiring of security. Thought you knew how that worked. I can walk you through it if I need to." He moves closer. It's like old times, Rye and I verbally sparring only as adults, there's a different charge than when we were kids. This isn't making me want to punch him in the face, it's making me want to put my hands on him in an entirely inappropriate way for our new boundaries.

"Let's start over and I'll say it again slower," I tell him, stepping closer and pointing to my lips. "That's Sean."

Rye's jaw ticks again, but this time I don't think it has anything to do with anger. He's taking me in, his eyes focused on where my finger touches the pink of my mouth. He runs a hand down his face perhaps to clear his thoughts.

Rye closes the distance between us. His hand moves slowly to my chin, his eyes locked on my lower lip. He runs his thumb along it. It's the sexiest touch I've every felt. He waits a beat and then looks into my eyes. "I don't like that he's taking you out," he tells me. There's no anger in his voice, instead he sounds vulnerable.

I reach for his arm, wanting to touch him and give him comfort.

His free hand finds my waist, and he pulls my body against his. I can feel every inch of him. It's as if I'm melting into every grove of his muscles. My breathing is quick and internally I'm begging him to kiss me again. I don't care about Tinsley or the fact that this man will most likely destroy my heart. Right now, I just want to fully feel him. My skin to his skin, my body in his hands.

I can't resist. Finally I move my mouth towards his.