You’re ignoring me. You know how I get when I’m ignored.” He pulled at one of her straggler curls. “Ouch, Stefan. I’m not in the mood.” She looked at the time on her cell phone, glad to have some other reason to stare at it. “Seven hours, thirty minutes.” Stefan pierced her with his dark brown eyes. “Trista, it’s gonna be a long six months, it’s all I’m sayin’. You want me to kick his ass for you?” He grinned and his eyes returned to their warm shade of chocolate. Even though she loved him and he knew it, she ignored him coldly. Successfully. Stefan shrugged it off and closed his eyes to get some sleep but not before he leaned all the way across the aisle and plunked a kiss on her forehead. It would be a long night—the first gig of the tour. Jaxon and Stefan, along with Vance, Ben, herself and the head of security—Big Mike, all lounged around the private jet. The pilot would be with them for the duration of the tour and she was usually quick to chat them up. But not this time. She was bent. She toyed with her cell and decided she’d give it a shot. It was his devastatingly sweet outgoing message, again. When it was her turn to talk, she realized she hadn’t prepared what to say. She was going to sound like a cellphone-stalking idiot and almost hung up. Maybe it was her southern roots, but some grit she’d been surprised to come across kept her on the line. She turned her head away from the aisle for some privacy, her voice lowered. “Lucky, it’s me, Trista. I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say…I really just wanted to make sure you were okay and also, I wanted to know if you want me to send you your bag.
