A few moments later Cary waved on his way out the door. “See you tonight.”
“Bye, Cary!” Lara shouted loud enough for the next building to close its windows. “Let me know if you need anything!”
Like he would call Lara.Pfft.
After Cary left, Kim showed herself into Tyler’s office.
“Come in here,” she said, widening the door.
“Why?” Tyler asked, going there anyway.
“I have something to tell you.” Kim closed the door behind them. “Dude, are you fucking crazy?”
“No?” She meant to sound more certain of her mental state.
“He dropped your name, like, a thousand times, and he got your dog earmuffs.”
“He likes my dog.”
“You’re missing the plot,” Kim said with an exasperated sigh.
Tyler lowered her gaze. “There’s no story here.”
CHAPTER 10
CARY
What the hell was that about?
Cary had been looking forward to seeing Tyler since Winnipeg. Counting the days, if he were being honest. But clearly, she’d changed her mind. She wasn’t coming to the show—not until he’d sulked like a kid denied his favorite cereal in the grocery store aisle.
Was it his past catching up to him? Or something else?
The ladies’ man rep wasn’t true. Okay—it had been, once. Back in his youth. Most of his exes had waited around like it was an Adele song, hoping he’d circle back. But he never did. Except for Emma—and she hadn’t changed, hadn’t treated him any better. He should have known better.
At least Rory had been happy to see him.
He smiled and pulled out his phone. Rory looked adorable in his Mutt Muffs, so Cary posted the picture to Instagram. The dog was loyal. Steady. And frankly, the most emotionally healthy relationship in his life.
Outside, the black SUV idled at the curb—doors locked, of course. He half expected to find Vegas sprawled in the back seat before rememberingthe injury. What the hell was he going to do? Vegas handled everything on tour.
Maybe Kim could help. She was Tyler’s best friend. She might put in a good word.
Cary wasn’t used to chasing anyone. But for Tyler?
One more try. That’s all he had in him.
CHAPTER 11
TYLER
Tyler arrived at the stadium a few hours later, tied a lanyard around her belt loop, and shoved an all-access pass into her back pocket. She was there as a music industry professional, not as a Kinger, even though she considered herself an honorary member.
Cary’s visit to the office was a bit of a let-down so she was determined to fix it—to save face if nothing else.
Her phone buzzed. It was Kim.
Green Room.
