She's Still The One: A Brother's Best Friend, Rockstar Romance by Kaci Rose (websites to read books for free txt) 📕

I laugh, "Oh, I know. I'm going to head back to the bus, too. It's just creepy watching girls rub on them like they’re in heat."

"See you tomorrow!" Ivy says, and then jumps up and runs to Dom's arms. She leaps, and he catches her, as she wraps her legs around his waist. Dom is a pretty big guy. If I didn't know he was the drummer, I might think he was a bodyguard. I watch Dom carry Ivy out the back door, and I sigh. What a girl wouldn't give to have a guy like that.

I look back to where the guys are still surrounded. One of the girls from the guy's management team is there and flirting with my brother. He seems to be flirting back just a little. Maybe, it's a good thing the girl from the charity turned him down. Doesn't look like he's ready to settle down.

I try not to look, but my eyes move on their own to Dallas. The blonde is still rubbing her tits on his arm, some brunette has attached herself to his arm, and all while, he talks to a guy in front of him.

Fuck, I can't stay here and watch this. I stand up and without looking back I make my way out to the bus. One of the security guys from the back door walks with me to the bus door, since it's now dark out. I thank him, going in to grab my yoga pants and a t-shirt to change in the bathroom and clean off my makeup.

Was it my mind playing tricks on me that made it seem like Dallas was uncomfortable with the girls all over him? That’s crazy, right? He lives for that sort of thing. He will pick one of them, head to his dressing room, bang the crap out of her, come back to the bus, and pass out.

Why does it hurt so much more now knowing that's what he’s doing? It's been this way for years; nothing has changed. I need a distraction, since I know I will have the bus to myself for an hour, maybe more. Going to the living area, I grab a bag of pretzels and another water, before sitting down on the couch.

I love this bus. It's extra wide, so we aren't cramped. There are two couches facing each other and a dining room table booth across from the small kitchen. There are four large bunks, and each of us has our own TV in the bunk. But since no one else is here, I’ll settle in on the couch, where it's more comfortable.

Turning the TV on, I pull up a sappy Hallmark movie, planning to get lost in someone else's happily ever after, since mine seems to have taken a wrong turn. The movie is just starting, when the bus door opens.

Great, there goes my relaxing evening. So, help me if one of the guys thinks they’re bringing some random hookup into this bus, I will rip their balls off. They have never done that shit to me before, and I won't tolerate it now.

Imagine my surprise, when in walks Dallas.

Alone.

Chapter 6

Dallas

This used to be my favorite part of the night, when everyone wants your attention. People from the venue are always talking your ear off, and whatever girls are backstage swarm you.

I'm trying to talk to Mitch about the plans for the next few days, and there are two girls who aren't getting the hint that I don't want them hanging on me. I pull my arm away, but they just reattach themselves.

I turn to look at Austin, thinking maybe I can give her the come rescue me look, but she’s standing up and hurt mixed with disappointment is all over her face. Shit, she's thinking I'm going to be taking one of these girls home.

Six months ago, yeah, I probably would have, but not now. I can't stand their touch, when the girl I’ve wanted for more than half my life, is walking out the door upset.

"Mitch, let's finish this in my dressing room," I say and yank my arms away from the girls a final time, before stalking across the room.

I slam the door and lock it, before turning back to Mitch.

"No more groupies. I'm done being pawed over. I'm done with that life. If you aren't going to help try to turn my image around, then you will at least keep them away from me backstage after shows, or the tabloids will be painting me the hulk, instead of the playboy." I growl at Mitch.

His eyes go wide, and I take a deep breath and grab another bottle of water. This isn't his fault. He wasn't on the last tour. Hell, Dave wasn't even on the tour. He popped in at some of the key shows, and as long as the PAs he had on us gave good reports, he let us be.

"Shit, I'm sorry. Just no more. This is getting old fast, and I'm really over it."

"Uh oh, Dave's going to be pissed." Mitch looks almost scared.

"What does me wanting to turn my life around have to do with Dave?" I growl.

"That's not it. It has been our experience, when a band member says, 'This is getting old,' it's code for they are thinking of leaving the band."

"What? I'm not leaving. The playboy life is getting old. I want to settle down, have a family, and kids. I sure as hell don't want to quit."

He gives me a skeptical look. "If you say so, man." He pulls out his phone, and his fingers go flying across it, texting or emailing.

"We’re done here, and I'm going to go to bed. The first stop always drains me." Not really, but any excuse to get out of here, I will use.

"Yeah, go, go. See you in Atlanta." He doesn't even look