Page 43 of Exposing Colorado

I groan and drop my food onto my plate. “Can you two not? I'm fucking eating here.”

“Agreed.” Tay grimaces, the little hypocrite. Like he wasn't in Devon's place just three years ago.

Christian smacks his lips in annoyance. “You’re both only jealous that I'm getting some.”

“When are you not getting some? Christian, buddy, you have a problem.”

The RV door squeaks as Logan steps out, looking about as ragged as I feel. Since it's his turn to drive, he's been napping in the back. Honestly, he's been napping a lot lately. And eating. Sleeping and eating—that's all he does. And hang out with that fucking fish.

He glances over at Dev and Arya, curling his lip before dragging his gaze to me. “Did I hear right? We're getting a hotel?”

I nod, finishing my burger without sparing him a glance. “Yup. Sick of sleeping in the truck.”

There's a moment of silence as he studies me intently. “Is that in our budget?”

With a shrug, I stand and toss my trash without answering. I don’t really care if it is or not. My back hurts, my head aches, and I'm sticky with bug spray. I just want a soft bed and a hot shower.

When I make my way back into the RV to prepare for my own nap, Logan follows me inside.

“I think we should see if we can even afford a hotel before you go making decisions,” he grumbles.

I whirl around to face him. “I'm the one that planned this entire tour, Logan. With no help, I might add. I think I have the right to make these decisions.”

He stares back with dark, tired eyes. “So we're all just gonna pay out of pocket then? Wasn't the point of getting an RV to save money?”

“You've been sleeping in a bed this entire time. I don't think you have any room to bitch.”

“You know you can sleep in the bed, too. No one's stopping you but yourself.”

“I’m not about to squeeze into a twin-sized mattress with you,” I spit viciously. “Not when I can barely stand to breathe the same air as you some days.”

I regret the words the second they leave my mouth, but not enough to take them back. Logan starts to respond, but I don’t give him the chance to finish.

“You want to talk about the budget?” Taking a step forward, I lift a finger to his face. “I planned every stop, every show, every mile of this tour right down to the damn gas receipts. And all you’ve done is coast on my work and stuff your fucking face. So no, I don’t give a shit if the hotel is in our budget or not. I want one goddamn night where I don’t wake up with a kink in my neck and a bug bite on my ass.”

My voice echoes off the RV walls, followed by a heavy silence. Even the group outside is silent, no doubt having heard my outburst through the open windows. Logan's expression smooths out, completely unreadable as he shakes his head and skirts around me toward the bathroom.

“Well,” he says coldly, “we can't all look like Cowboy Harper. Or Devon. Or Taylor, Christian, and every other guy you’ve fucked on this tour.”

Fury ignites in my veins when he slams the bathroom door shut, and I punch the wood with my fist. “I didn't fuck the cowboy, asshole!”

There's no response from the other side, just the sound of running water. I blink away tears of frustration as I throw myself onto a bunk and press my palms into my lids until I see stars. My chest tightens with rage that has nowhere to go.

How dare he.

After everything, he thinks he has the right to judge me?

Curling onto my side, I face the wall, every muscle in my body locked tight. A tear slips down my cheek, but I swipe it away angrily.

No. He doesn’t get my sadness. He's the one who left me in Vegas, not the other way around.

I won't be made to feel small by a boy who can’t handle rejection.

I am not my fucking mother.

The RV door opens, letting in a wave of sweltering heat. I already know who’s stepped in before he speaks.

“Marital spat?”