Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
In this dream, it feels right, even if it’s one night
I’m so happy I found you
In my dreams—you and I are just right for each other.
You were made for me and I was made for you.
In my dreams—you lie on my pillow and whisper that you love me
When I open my eyes, I don’t look at the crowd. I look over to the wing of the stage, where I know pretty brown eyes are waiting. Our eyes lock and I say so much as I stare back at her. She lowers her lashes, breaking the connection.
“All right, Chicago,” I say into the mic as I turn back to the crowd. “How was that one?”
The crowd goes insane and starts to repeat the chorus of the song. That old love that I used to have for this shit bubbles up in my chest. It feels good.
“Love you guys,” I call and get up to leave the stage.
I’m headed straight for Saga. I want to have dinner with her again tonight. There’s still so much I want to learn about her.
“Bishop,” Jag says as he steps into my path. “I have some people here you need to meet with.”
“Later,” I say, moving around him.
“It can’t wait for later. The label wants you to sit down with them tonight. We already have reservations,” he says to my back.
“Fuck,” I murmur. “Give me twenty.”
“Yeah, all right. Oh, it’s only dinner for five,” he says. “We don’t need this going to social media.”
I look over my shoulder and glare at Jag. “You all right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m keeping my eyes on the goal here,” he says.
“Careful, shit can change fast around here,” I warn and turn without waiting for a response.
We’ll be having that talk tonight. I don’t know what the fuck his problem is. We’ve known each other for a long time. Jag, of all people, knows it takes nothing for me to cut someone off if I don’t feel they’re in my corner.
“Hey,” I say to Saga, reaching to brush her hair out of her face.
“Hey,” she whispers.
I wave Dwayne, who’s the head of my security, and my cousin over. I’m not happy about this, but the label has been in talks with new sponsors for the next tour. It’s my job to charm the big pockets.
“What’s up, Bishop?” Dwayne says as he approaches.
“Take Saga back to the hotel. Make sure she gets into the suite safely,” I say.
“I can get back on my own. Shouldn’t he be with you?”
“I’ll be fine,” I say. “Order room service. Kick back and relax. I’ll see you when I get in.”
I can see the questions she won’t ask in her eyes. I move closer, placing a hand on her hip. I love that she comes to me willingly.
“I have to meet up with some people the label sent out. As soon as dinner is over, I’ll be on my way to you,” I lean into her ear to say.
“You don’t owe m—”
“Didn’t say I do. I just want you to know where I’ll be. I’ll see you in a bit, beautiful,” I say, cutting her off.
Reluctantly, I release her and turn for my dressing room. With each step I take away from her, I start to feel like I can’t breathe and agitation starts to rise. This better not take all night.
Saga
I have no right to be jealous. I have no claim on Bishop whatsoever. Yet, when he asked Dwayne to get me back to the room, the first thing I thought was that he was ditching me to hook up with one of the many groupies who were always around.
It’s foolish how I’ve allowed myself to get sucked into his lyrics. They’re songs, entertainment. It’s what he does. I keep telling myself not to fall for him.
Don’t be stupid, Saga.
That’s the millionth time I’ve told myself that. It would be a colossal mistake to fall for Bishop. I know nothing about him and he’s… he’s a rock star.
That alone should make him off-limits. Still, I’ve never seen him behave the way I thought a rock star would. He ignores the women, I’ve never seen him drunk or high. He’s just a really down-to-earth guy.
“Babe,” he calls through the suite.
I bite my lip and think about pretending to be sleeping. The more time I spend around him, the more I think about making stupid decisions concerning him, like falling for him.
I look at the clock. He’s back early. If he did lie about the meeting, that wasn’t much of a hookup. I chide myself for my thoughts.
“Coming,” I call back.
I stand and look down at the shorts and tank top I have on. I reach up and touch the scarf on my head. I start to take it off and change my clothes, but I stop in my tracks. The last thing I need to do is impress him.