The Opposite Of Right (Bad Decisions Trilogy #1) by Christi Barth Page A

fantasy. Except now Kylie would never think of the men in this group only as larger-than-life rock stars. They were her friends now. Friends who happened to make music for a living. Friends with quirks, just like the ones she’d left behind in college. Friends who screwed up and said the wrong things.
    What if that’s what happened with Cam? What if he’d misunderstood her desperate relief at the Smithsonian’s offer to be an exit strategy? What if he didn’t know how much she liked him? How head over heels she was for the tall, talented man who couldn’t hide his tender side?
    They’d shared lots of sex and lots of laughs. But they’d never shared the words bubbling out of her heart. Talk about a bad decision. And this one Kylie planned to fix.
    “Jake, my laptop’s on the other bus. Can I borrow yours?”
    “Sure, as long as you don’t go poking around in my browser history,” he joked. “What’s so important?”
    “I need to apply for a job that doesn’t exist.”
     
     
    Kylie looked across the truck-stop parking lot to the road signs. Apparently they were in Fergus Falls. It was vital for her to note. Fergus Falls—hopefully—would be the start of her new life. One in which she didn’t veer from the path. One where she purposefully chose a path all her own.
    “Are you going to tell your parents first?” Amanda’s voice was tinny in her ear.
    “No. But I’ve already e-mailed the Smithsonian and declined their invitation. There’s no turning back.” Her palm was sweaty on the phone, and not just from the late afternoon heat. The knot in her stomach warred for attention with jangling nerves and a heart that seemed to be pumping twice as fast as normal.
    “I’m proud of you. Scared for you, but proud. And super sad that you won’t be coming back to Chicago. I’ll miss you. Let me know what happens?”
    “Of course. Um, maybe cross your fingers for me? Toes, too?”
    “You bet.”
    Kylie pocketed her phone. Wiped her palms on her denim shorts and climbed the steps into Cam’s bus before she started to talk herself out of this crazy—no, bold idea. “Kyoko, Jones, I need a little time alone with Cam. It’s a hot day. How about you go grab some slushees?” Held out a ten-dollar bill. “I’m buying.”
    They filed out wordlessly, but with all four eyebrows quirked between them. Cam sat on the couch, guitar across his lap. His hair stood on end like he’d been pulling at it. Mouth downturned, he barked, “What?”
    “Have you checked your e-mail?”
    “No.” He went back to strumming a tune she didn’t recognize.
    This wasn’t going swimmingly. But Kylie reminded herself of how Cam had ended their fight yesterday. Hurt. Thinking that she’d rather go to Washington than stay with him. When she hadn’t even realized until the fight was over that, from his perspective, the whole thing had been about their relationship rather than her job prospects. And when she tried to explain that wasn’t what she meant, he shut her out.
    “Well, um, I sent you something.”
    Fingers still playing over the strings, Cam said, “If it’s your two-weeks’ notice, consider it accepted.”
    “Kinda the opposite, actually.” Kylie let go of her death grip on the rail at the stairs and came all the way inside. “Do you want to read it?”
    “No.”
    “Then I’ll give you the bullet points.” She took a deep breath. “I sent you a proposal. A description of the responsibilities, expectations and salary of Riptide’s newest team member. Me.”
    “You sell swag. There. I summed up in three words what just took you fifteen.”
    “Sorry. It isn’t a description of the goody girl. It’s for an internship in music business affairs. Specifically, tour production and artist management. I’ve worked up ten separate areas I can both help out and learn, from liaising between Tony and the venues, to testing the new song titles for marketability, to—”
    Cam cut her off with a slash of his hand.