Was my entire time on tour going to be like this? Were Andres and I going to be constantly circling each other, working to keep a distance? It was going to be impossible for us to do our jobs properly if this was what it was going to be like. Too much was riding on us staying platonic—this was why I never wanted a love life. I never wanted to lose focus. Back at Rosewood all that had mattered was school and riding. Boys were never a part of the equation. Life was so much less complicated that way.
Though I had to admit, I did miss kissing. If only kissing didn’t always complicate things so much.
I turned on the tap to wash my hands and looked up at myself in the mirror. I nearly barked out a laugh at my reflection. There was a birds’ nest of hair on the left side of my head and I looked like Alice Cooper with what had happened to my makeup overnight. Throw in the morning breath and Andres had just been hit with the trifecta of morning awfulness.
And he’d still looked like he’d wanted to kiss me senseless. I grinned at my reflection: Take that hot groupies who dolled up to throw themselves at him.
It felt like a victory that he wanted me when I looked like this. But then, as I washed my face, did my best to finger-comb my hair into place, and brushed my teeth, I realized that while it was validating that he wanted me, it was really freaking inconvenient.
“This is going to be a very long tour,” I told myself in the mirror.