Which, dear God, would make it a sin for me to be looking or having the thoughts I did about Walker. Although thirty-seven was damn close to that forty mark.
Out of the corner of my eye, because I hadn’t stopped watching no matter how hard I tried, I saw Walker move to sit down on the couch closest to me. “There’s no fucking way you’re in your forties.”
“No,” I shook my head, unable to hide my smile. It might kill me if they thought I was that old. “I’m not, but it was fun to see the look on their faces when I said I might be.”
Walker leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees. “Don’t start playing them like that, or you won’t like the payback. They are ruthless when it comes to pranks.”
Duly noted. I didn’t need all of them trying to prank me. I would be a sitting target unable to come up with anything good to get back at them with.
He leaned forward more. I wasn’t sure if it was so I could hear him better or if he wanted to be closer to me. In my head, I wanted it to be the latter no matter how many times I told myself I didn’t.
“You know, I heard that if you want people to think you’re drinking, but you’re not, you order drinks that look like they could be anything.” Walker’s eyes went to my bottle of water.
I held up my water. “And this can’t be anything?”
“Not in the bottle,” he shook his head. “Get a cranberry and something, or hell, even a Sprite.”
“Why do you care if it looks like I’m drinking or not?”
One shoulder rose nonchalantly. “I don’t, but I think if the guys thought you were drinking, it might make them give you less of a hard time.”
“I can handle them, and anyway, I’m not sure how professional it would seem if I looked like I was drinking with you guys.”
“Suit yourself,” he smirked before getting up and going back over to the group of women who’d previously been throwing themselves at him.
“You know jealousy isn’t a very good look on you,” Greer gritted out through clenched teeth.
“Why do you care?” Maybe he was jealous that I didn’t want him the way I wanted Walker.
“I don’t, but I wouldn’t bother wasting your time or career on Walker. He’s not the boyfriend type of guy.” He nodded toward where the man in question was getting felt up by at least three women. “This is only the beginning. If we make it big like you keep promising, you won’t even be able to see him with how many women are in front of you.”
“You’re such a good friend.” I didn’t even try to hide the sarcasm in my tone.
“I tell it like it is, and I don’t want this to be awkward. We’re stuck with you now, and if you’re off crying in the corner every time he fucks someone, you’re going to get dehydrated really fucking quick.”
I wasn’t sure if Greer was looking out for his friend and band or if he was being an ass. I knew he wasn’t saying it for my benefit.
“I don’t plan on this being anything more than professional. With all of you.” I gave him a pointed look. There would be nothing between me and any of them besides friendship.
Maybe he was hurt that he missed hanging out the night I stayed with them. I didn’t know, nor was I going to care.
I stood, and all eyes were suddenly trained on me. “I’m going to hit the little girl’s room.” Walker’s dark eyes met mine, and there was something lurking in there, but what I couldn’t say. As he continued to look at me, his brows drew down, and a frown started to form. I gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile before I got lost in the crowd.
I needed to get my head on straight by the time I got back to our section. It wasn’t good that Greer read me so well, and I was stupid enough not to deny his claim. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and tried to find the calm inside me, only I couldn’t find it. Inside I was festering with thoughts of girls all over Walker and how I’d have to see him parade them in and out in front of me if—no when—they went on tour. It would be pure torture, but maybe it was what I needed. I wasn’t a masochist. I’d move on.
What I needed was to find a man that would attend to all of my needs. Maybe I’d find one when Stella, the girls, and I went on our trip to celebrate her divorce.
First things first, though. I needed to get these boys in the studio to create the best damn music they could make. Only then would I be able to go on vacation. I hoped I’d be over my feelings for Walker by then.
Scratch that. Maybe I needed to find myself a man tonight to put this silly crush to bed once and for all.
With that thought in mind, I headed out of the restroom with only one mission: Get laid and forget about Walker Pierce.
CHAPTER EIGHT
walker
“I thought this was going to be fun, but this is like the practice from hell,” Kenton grumbled from behind his kit.
Cross made his way across the room and threw himself down on one of the two couches in the room. “No shit. How many different ways can we sing the same song? I think we’re going to hate our music before we get done recording this album.”
“Hey guys,” Pen chirped as she came into the room. She was all sunshine and rainbows, something we needed at that moment. She reeled back when she finally got the vibe of the room. “What’s going on?”
“We’ve played Stay about a hundred times today, and that dick in there keeps telling us to do it again and again, and different. It’s like he can’t make up his damn mind. My fingers are about to start bleeding.” Greer rubbed his fingers for emphasis.
“Really?” She sighed and looked through the window. “Let me go have a talk with Wallace and see what I can do.”
“Thanks,” I muttered. “Oh, hey, Pen.” She spun on her heel and faced me. “I ordered you one of those salads that you like for lunch. It should be here soon.”
The guys laughed and called me pussywhipped under their breaths, but I wasn’t sure how you could be pussywhipped when you weren’t getting any.
“Thank you, Walker. That’s so sweet. I thought I’d missed out on lunch and was going to have to wait for dinner.” She hugged her MacBook close to her chest. “When I get back, I have something to show you guys.”
“What is it?” We all shouted in unison.
She shook her laptop and walked backward. “You’ll just have to wait and see. First, I need to see what’s going on in the control room.”
We might not have been able to hear what was going on in the control room, but we could watch. I moved to sit on the couch opposite of Cross and pretended like I could read lips and understand what was being said in there. I had no clue, but I did know that Pen wasn’t happy. After ten minutes of back and forth, she stormed out. By the time she reached us, we were all standing, waiting to hear what she had to say.
She looked around the room, and I swore she looked like she wanted to stomp her foot. Her face was red with her lips pursed. “The rest of the day is canceled. Tomorrow you will have someone new producing in the control room. This whole bullshit—” she pointed to the other room. “Has tainted what I wanted to show you. Do you want to get out of here?”