“Yeah, I know,” Vegas said. “I make an effort, though. I call my mom every Sunday.”
“I wouldn’t know what to say.”
“They don’t care, man. Moms are good that way. So, when are you seeing Tyler again?”
He closed his eyes.That kiss. . .her lips. . .say hi to Rory for me.What a chump.
“I guess I’ll see her next month at my show. Or now.” Cary pulled out his phone and frowned at the screen. “Her Instagram’s locked.”
“Stalker,” Vegas joked.
“Trust me.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I feel like one.”
“Just send her a follow request.”
“I can’t do that!”
“Why not?”
What if she didn’t accept? He’d be left hanging without a net. But he wanted to see her, needed to see her, if only in two dimensions. He took a deep breath and clicked on the screen.
His request was now pending.
CHAPTER 9
TYLER
“Fuck!” Sebastien yelled from his office, jolting Rory awake from an afternoon nap.
“Was that a regular fuck, or, like, extra aggressive?” Kim asked.
Tyler angled her head toward his door, but she couldn’t see him. “That was a little much, even for Sebastard.”
Kim crinkled her nose. “Dude, are youseriouslynot going tonight?”
Cary Kingston had sold out the local stadium in record time, but SDM had marketed it as a “homecoming” concert, and it pissed Tyler off. Cary was from Brandon, Manitoba, and as much as the city had tried, they couldn’t turn him into a Vancouverite.
Tyler leaned forward and lowered her voice. “I told you, I drunk-kissed him.” She’d been trying to forget what little she could remember from that night a few weeks ago. “I’m an idiot. I kissed Cary Kingston.”
“He kissed you first,” Kim reminded her. “And he followed you on Insta.”
The day after the benefit concert, Cary had sent her a follower request. After deleting any unflattering pictures of herself, she accepted it.
Tyler let out a sigh. “Yeah, and his fans sent me a million requests.”
It didn’t take long for the Kingers to clue in that he was following her, so she changed her picture to an avatar and shut off her notifications.
“Here.” Kim wiggled her fingers. “Hand me your phone.” With reluctance she did as she was told. “See? He sent you a hotel emoji, followed by a thumbs-up, then—ooh!” She winked. “X- O.”
Had the ancient Egyptians been any better at deciphering hieroglyphics? Tyler didn’t think so. It was her own damn fault for texting him in symbols rather than using her words.
“I sent him a thumbs-up back.” Tyler doodled hearts on her notepad, but she didn’t write their initials because it was too much of a long shot.
“Yeah, everyone knows that’s when the conversation ends.” Kim shared the same theory as her sister. “You’re not an idiot,” she added.
Tyler put down her pen and crossed her arms. “I’m done with musicians.”
“Dude, he’s not wearing a CBGB T-shirt and skinny jeans.”
