Gone for You (Sixth Street Band #1) by Jayne Frost Page A

Knight,” the driver cut in over the intercom. “We’re waiting on security. There’s a lot of press around.”
    Groaning, I pressed the intercom button. “Thanks.”
    “Cameron, I’m not comfortable with this.” Lily scooted back against the seat. “I’m just going to stay here.”
    “You can’t stay here.” I chuckled, grabbing her hand. “It’ll be fine. You’re with me.”
    My smile fell away when Lily looked over at me, brutal honesty shading her blue eyes.
    “I’m glad I’m the girl that’s getting the Cameron Knight treatment this week, but I could have done without this excursion. It only reminds me that this is a game to you,” she said quietly. “It makes it harder for me to pretend.”
    Swallowing hard over the bitter taste in my mouth, I squeezed her hand. “Pretend what, Lily?”
    She gave me a watery smile. “Pretend that I’m not just a girl you’re killing time with between shows.”
    I could tell her that’s how it started. Make it clear that it was different now. But in the real world, it wasn’t worth the risk. The risk of broken promises and messy complications.
    Pushing a hand through my hair, I rested my arm on the back of the seat, sliding on a mask of indifference.
    “There’s nobody I’d rather be killing time with than you, Lily.”
    She nodded her head, the smile never fading. It was frozen on her face, masking the sting of the callous words that rolled off my tongue effortlessly.
    An awkward silence stretched between us, so unpalatable it twisted my stomach. It felt like we were waiting for ten hours instead of ten minutes.
    Entwining our fingers when the limo door swung open, I anchored her to me, making a promise that I couldn’t speak out loud. For the rest of our time together, Lily would never see Cameron Knight again.

    Pushing through the first wave of photographers, I slipped my arm over Lily’s shoulder. She burrowed closer to my side, her eyes on the ground, and her face turned into my chest. The paparazzi began their taunting and prodding when it was apparent I wasn’t in the mood for a chat.
    “Cameron! Who’s the flavor of the week?”
    “Look over here, sweetheart! Say cheese.”
    “Who’s the hot piece, Cam?”
    Lily shuddered, her steps faltering as she tried to keep up.
    “I’m sorry, baby.” My voice rose over the taunts. “Just a few more steps.”
    What the fuck was with all the media? Ninety percent of the time there was nobody at the venue. In the distance, I saw Lindsey with her arms folded over her chest, a smirk tilting up one corner of her mouth. In my haste to get to the field, I nearly plowed down a photographer that stepped in front of me. I’d seen the guy before. He was notorious for getting the best pictures. Candid shots of celebrities spewing obscenities or lunging at him.
    Pointing the camera at Lily, he whistled. “Show me your tits, sweetheart. I’ll make you famous,” he jeered, his camera clicking frame after frame.
    Lily’s head snapped up, her eyes going wide as the color drained from her face.
    “You motherfucker!” I roared.
    Lily’s hand clamped down on my arm when I lurched forward. The photographer snickered, hiding behind the camera as he swung it in my direction.
    “Cameron—don’t.” She stepped in front of me. “This piece of shit is just trying to get under your skin.”
    Squaring her shoulders, she pulled me forward, sliding her hand down my arm until our fingers were linked. I kept my eyes on the back of her head, a smile blooming on my face. She was amazing, this girl.
    Grinding to a stop, I pulled her backward, her mouth dropping open in shock when I spun her around.
    “Come here, you.” Ignoring the shutters clicking, I crushed my mouth to hers.
    It took her a second to yield, to allow me this one gesture. I wasn’t hiding her in the dark. I wanted her with me in the light.
    Breaking away from Lily’s mouth at the tug on my sleeve, I looked down at the perfectly manicured hand.