Page 12 of Loved Out Loud
“No. No groupies, no drugs, no booze on the bus. Stone’s sobriety is taking center stage this time around. Darren, the band’s manager, and I are keeping a list of strict rules for this tour. Those are the top three. Plus, we want you to be comfortable.
“I know it’s weird to walk into any pre-existing dynamic like we have to begin with. But make it a famous rock band on a tour, and it has to be even more anxiety inducing. I’m here for you as a buffer whenever you need it. Have you filled out the NDA and your preference sheet?”
“I signed the NDA, but I wasn’t sure about the preference sheet? What’s that for?”
“It just has a list of things you want for the bus. Snacks, drinks, toiletries.”
Oh. I wasn’t expecting them to provide anything like that.
Jade pulls a tablet out of her bag and opens a document. She slides it over to me. “Fill this one out and write everything you can think of, no matter how obscure. We’ll find it for you.”
The categories are surprisingly extensive. From soda preferences to what type of feminine hygiene products I use. Even condom and lubricant preferences have a section. I leavethat one blank. I can’t imagine I’ll be having any type of sex on this tour.
Jade scans it quickly, her lips tilting into a slight smile. “Low maintenance. If you think of something to add, just let me or Darren know.”
“I can do that.”
“Perfect. What’s on your agenda tomorrow? Aside from lunch with the band.”
“I found a Pilates class down the street that I’ll probably take in the morning and then I have to sign books at several stores in the afternoon.”
She perks up a bit when I mention Pilates, and I wonder if it’s because she takes classes as well.
“Have you ever taken a pole dancing class?” she asks.
I wasn’t expecting that question. “No.”
“You’ll have to take one with me. I’ve found studios at all our stops. I’ll look intoPilates studios for you, too.”
“Thank you.”
I’m really starting to like her. She’s so friendly and open. Knowing there will be another woman on the trip is comforting as well. Having grown up with my mom and Grams in the same home and no men to speak of, it really does ease my mind to have other women around.
We spend the rest of the evening chatting and getting to know one another. She explains how she became the band’s publicist and her relationship to Xander. I’m also treated to so much Blue Sunday lore I could write an article about them for Rolling Stone.
Between our conversation and the two glasses of wine, I’m feeling completely comfortable by the time we head up to our rooms. I didn’t realize it, but they put us all on the same level and turned off access to anyone without a key to a room in the hall.Music drifts down the corridor from the suite at the end as I tap my key against the reader.
The sound of laughter and music increases as two people stumble through the door. A barely dressed woman stumbles into the hall. She giggles as two tattooed hands snake around her waist and squeeze her ass. Two crystal blue eyes lock on mine, cutting through the distance between us like a laser.
Stone Tyler.
I look away quickly and dart into my room. Why did my stomach flip like that when we locked eyes? I’m not into voyeurism. I’ve spoken to the man for a total of twenty minutes. It makes no sense to be so… worked up. Then again, a lot of things about me don’t always make the most sense.
After tossing and turning all night, I eventually settled on my reaction to seeing Stone as being nerves. He is one of the most infamous rock stars in music right now. And I’m going on tour with him and his band. I’d have to be delusional not to be nervous.
Nothing about this is normal.
My sports bra snaps into place, and I pull a long sleeve compression shirt over it, hooking my thumbs into the holes to hold the sleeves in place. I slide my phone and key into the pocket of my leggings and grab one of the complimentary waters from the mini fridge before darting out into the hall.
The Pilates studio is two blocks from the hotel, so I’m planning on walking. Just as I’m about to hit the elevator call button, a tattooed hand appears from behind and presses it first. I stare at the chrome doors in front of me and take a steadying breath.
“Good morning, Hazel.”
It’s unfair how the rasp in his voice is so perfectly sexy.
“Morning, Stone.” I keep my eyes forward.
“Where are you off to so early?” he asks.
