to call or text Austin when I got to the hotel and had some privacy? Well, sort of privacy. I’d
be sharing a suite with one of my protection team.
“What time is it in the UK?”
“They’re an hour behind us.”
“Midnight.” Yup, too late. “Is my phone anywhere handy?”
“One sec.”
Pete went out of my line of sight for a moment, returning with my phone. I had a message from Austin.
—Good luck tonight. I know you’ll be amazing.
I smiled as I read the words over and over. Twenty-two concerts and ninety-two days until we would be together
again. Not that I was counting.
We pulled up outside the hotel’s main entrance twenty minutes later.
“You’ve got some very dedicated fans,” Greg said, coming back from the front of the bus. “Six of them armed with
phones and autograph books. Want me to get rid of them?”
I shook my head. I’d fox-napped a little and had enough energy to chat with six fans for a few minutes before
heading inside. I sat up and rubbed my face with my hands.
“How do I look?”
“Ready to drop,” Pete said.
I gave him the stink eye.
“Gorgeous,” Greg said with mock sincerity. “They won’t notice you’ve got bags on your bags.”
“Ha-fucking-ha.”
“Don’t go talking like that in front of your fans. It’ll tarnish your pretty-boy image.”
“I thought I was a divo?”
“That too.”
It turned out it was only four fans. They were all omegas. Two of them were clearly siblings, and I guessed the
other two were friends, as they were all of a similar age. They were accompanied by an alpha and an omega, who
looked tired and none too pleased to still be up at gone one in the morning, hunting an autograph and photo
opportunity.
Eventually, half an hour later, I walked into my suite. It had two bedrooms, each with their own bathroom, and a
seating area in between. It meant I could have a close protection officer nearby but not sleeping in the same room
as me. I tugged my clothes off and crawled under the sheet. I could have fallen asleep the second my head hit
the pillow, but instead, I sent a text to Austin.
—You won’t see this until the morning, but I wanted to say I love you. Night.
3
Austin
“I’m not asleep,” I said when Charlie answered the phone.
“Hey.” He sounded weary.
“But you sound like you need to sleep. I’ll go.” I readied myself to hang up. It had been a dumb idea to call him
so late. He was an hour ahead of me, and he’d just performed a concert.
“No. It’s good to hear your voice.”
I smiled, relieved that he wanted me to have called him, and took a sip of the wine I’d been nursing while
watching a film. Had I been trying to stay awake, hoping for Charlie to text or call? Yes. If that made me sad or
clingy, I didn’t care.
“How did the concert go?”
“Great. The crowd were amazing. It’s just…”
“Performing takes it out of you?”
“Yeah. I’m exhausted.”
“It’s the same for Jesse when he’s on tour. Have you eaten?”
Charlie chuckled. “You’re not my dad. But yeah, I ate an hour or so before the concert. I’m too tired to eat now
and not nearly hungry enough. Don’t worry. The guys are taking care of me.”
“Are you alone?”
Charlie hummed down the phone. “Wulf is in the next room. I’ve got a suite.”
“Very swanky.”
“Only the best for the biggest divo in pop.”
I could hear the laughter in Charlie’s voice; it was captivating and more than a little sexy, even if there was a tired
edge to it.
“Why’d you want to know?”
I sipped a little more wine. “I was just making sure it was safe to talk.”
“Is that all?”
“Do you have the energy for more?”
Charlie sighed. “No. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.”
There was a rustling sound from the other end of the phone.
“Are you in bed?” I asked.
“Yup. All tucked up.”
“I’ll have fun imagining that.”
“You don’t have to imagine it. Hang on.”
A moment later, my phone buzzed with a picture text from Charlie. He’d taken a selfie. He was lying on his side,
cheek pressed against the pillow, staring intently into the phone. The way the shadows fell meant his brown eye
was darker than usual, which made his blue eye look almost magically bright. He did look tired. He had dark
circles under his eyes, and although he was smiling, his expression was lacklustre.
“You look gorgeous,” I breathed.
Charlie snorted. “I look knackered.”
“Well, yes, but you’re gorgeous no matter what.”
“And you’re hopelessly biased.”
I had to
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