Page 41 of Trip Me Up

16

NIALL

It was way too earlywhen I dragged myself out of the hotel’s elevator in Miami. Had I even slept since Chicago? I hadn’t in Nashville. My run had relaxed me enough, I’d hoped, to write. I’d been looking forward to a hot shower and a few hours with my notebook, but then I’d had to knock on her door.

I could’ve passed it by. She’d probably known her dinner was there. I’d wanted to check on her. No, I wouldn’t lie, not even to myself. I’d wanted to see her. Away from the stress of the crowds, I’d wanted to catalog a few more of her movements, compare them to what I’d imagined Lobelia doing.

I’d gotten a lot more than that. Two days later, it was still burned like an afterimage on my retinas. An expanse of pale skin just a few shades darker than the hotel’s white towel. Droplets of water still clinging to her cheeks, her shoulders, the tops of her feet. Her dark hair hanging wet and uncombed down to her breasts, which the towel barely contained. And I’d stared at her like a creep while I muttered words likerespectandboundaries.All I’d wanted to do was tug that towel off her, press her right up against the door, and kiss her until neither one of us could breathe.

I slapped my hand against my forehead to jostle out the lascivious thoughts. She was my tour partner. A newbie to the industry. It didn’t matter that people did it all the time. Niall Flynn didn’t do that. Not after the example my dad had set on his business trips. The road was full of opportunities, but a fling on tour wasn’t what I wanted. I was holding out for the real thing. Commitment. Mutual respect. True love. Happily ever after, just like in the stories.

Fortunately, I’d channeled my sexual energy to write. I’d filled an entire notebook. Too bad I’d have to go back in and scratch out all the sexual innuendo before I sent it to Gabi.

A laugh—no, a giggle—caught my ear. I blinked. My mental image of Sam didn’t square with the woman who was curled on a sofa in the hotel lobby, her dog in her lap and her phone held out in front of her, giggling.

Like I was under a compulsion spell, I drifted closer. Sam’s focus was on the screen, and she didn’t notice. Bilbo did, and he wiggled in her arms.

“And then I lost it,” she said, closing her eyes and shaking her head. “I told him he should do fitness videos on TikTok!”

Sam listened for a second. “No, sorry, you’re going to have to be satisfied with the publicity shots. He turned me down.” She shrugged. “It took two rounds with my rabbit to chill out.” She paused for a second and then giggled again.

I was on fire. They were going to find a pile of ash and my flannel shirt if I let myself imagine her lying on the bed, the towel flung aside, her legs spread, and—

Tour partner, Niall.I wouldn’t be one of those guys who used his success to lure in a newbie. I cleared my throat.

When she looked up, her cheeks pinked. Not like the flaming red my entire face had to be, but a delicate, rose-petal pink. “Oh. Hey, Niall. Come say hi to my friend Marlee.”

“What?”

She patted the sofa cushion. “I know we have to go. It’ll only take a minute. She wants to meet you.”

Sorcery. I sat beside her.

“Closer.” She pulled out one of her earbuds, wiped it on the hem of her shirt, and then jammed it into my ear.

“…so handsome!” The pretty white woman on the screen clapped her hand over her mouth. “Sam! You didn’t—Hi, Mr. Flynn. Or should I call you Niall?”

I gave her my photo-ready smile. We could be normal. I could pretend I hadn’t heard Sam’s side of their conversation. “Nice to meet you, Marlee. Niall is fine.” This close to Sam, I could smell the rosemary in her hair. And dog breath. Bilbo licked my chin, and I stroked his silky fur. My other arm jammed awkwardly into my side. Sam had made me sit close enough that we both showed on the screen, and there wasn’t room for my shoulder. I turned toward her and propped my arm along the back of the sofa. Her shoulder notched into my chest like it belonged there.

“Can you believe Sam didn’t tell me she was writing a book? She was doing her Ph.D. research and interning, too. She’s amazing, right?” Marlee raised her eyebrows.

I stole a glance at Sam, who pressed her lips tightly together. “Amazing.” I wrote full time and hadn’t produced a book as groundbreaking as hers. “Have you read it?”

“I—ah—I started it.” Marlee toyed with the ends of her hair with the hand that wasn’t holding her phone. “It’s not what I usually read.”

“You should read Niall’s book,” Sam said. “I’ll get him to sign a copy and bring it to you when I get back.”

“You’ve read it?” Marlee tipped her head to the side. What did that mean? Why was Marlee surprised that Sam had read my book? I turned to her, but her face had gone expressionless.

“I started it. Everybody loves it.”

Oh. She hated it. My face burned again. At least I didn’t have to worry about Sam recognizing herself in Lobelia. I glanced at my watch. “We need to—”

“Gotta go, Marlee. Tell Tyler I said hi.” Sam smiled at the screen, but she looked pained.

“I will. Call me this weekend and tell me how it’s going. That is, if you’re not too busy being OTPs.” Marlee pursed her lips and waggled her eyebrows. “Not on Saturday morning; that’s when I go to see Dad. Nice meeting you, Niall.” She waved, and the screen blanked.

Sam shoved the phone into one of the many pockets of her cargo pants and held out her hand. I dropped the earbud into it. She wiped them both again with her shirt and dropped them into a different pocket.

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