This used to bother me in the beginning, but over the years, I realized they truly are looking at Dallas and don't even see me. Fine by me, I just go about my business and let them deal with it.
When our food comes, I can’t take the first bite, before two guys stop at the table.
"No way! You really are Austin Anderson!" The first one says. "We saw you across the room and didn't think it could really be you. My sister is a huge fan of your brother's band, but I really enjoy the songs where you sing, too."
I shift uncomfortably in my seat. It's rare someone recognizes me, so I smile and whisper for only Dallas to hear.
"I'm sorry for this."
Then, I turn back to the guy who was just talking. "Thank you, hear that, Dallas? He likes my stuff better."
The guy's eyes shoot over to Dallas.
"Oh, no way! My sister is going to be so upset she ditched us today."
I pull a pen and a notebook out of my purse and hand them to Dallas and smile at the look he gives me. I learned a long time ago to carry some pens and paper, when I'm out with them. It just makes life easier.
"Dallas would be happy to sign an autograph for her. You can hold it over her head for a few weeks."
He laughs, “Only if I can get yours with it and a photo? I know you’re trying to eat. We’ll make it quick, and then leave you alone."
I know they will, but the problem is they have now drawn attention to us, and people will keep coming by the table.
We sign the paper, and a waiter takes a photo of the four of us.
"If you post it online, tag Dallas please," I ask them. Despite the interruption, I still want a copy of the photo.
"Oh, you bet. Thanks again!" They say and head out.
"I know you don't like the attention, and you don't have to apologize for shifting it like that." He says and nudges my shoulder with his. We eat fast and are only stopped two more times.
"Never fails. I need to start asking for male servers." Dallas says, when he opens the check to find his waitresses name and number scrawled across the receipt with a bunch of hearts.
"Let me," I say.
"No way am I letting you pay." He's always been like this. No matter if it's a day out like this, or something as simple as an ice cream cone. If I'm with him, he never lets me pay for anything.
"Fine, do you have cash?" I ask.
"Yeah." He hands me enough to cover the bill with a tip and puts it on top of the receipt. I hand it back to her with a smile on my face.
"Thanks, but I don't swing that way." Then, I take Dallas's hand, as we leave, only stopping, so he can sign an autograph for the hostess.
I go to let go of Dallas's hand once back outside, but he doesn’t let me, and I don't fight it.
We spend the rest of the day finishing the house tour and the gardens, before going down to the village green, where there are more shops, a winery, and a few restaurants, along with a small museum.
The whole day is perfect, and we are only stopped a few more times for autographs, so Dallas is really relaxed. He’s constantly touching me, holding my hand, or has his arm around my waist, pulling me close. I know he’s doing it to protect me, as we walk around, but it's so easy to let my heart hope it's more.
As we leave, he puts the top down and takes the long way back to the bus, and we crank up the radio, when one of the band's songs comes on. I can't remember the last time I laughed so hard.
We stumble into the bus still laughing and find my brother, leaning against the kitchen counter, giving us a strange look.
I clear my throat.
"I'm going to take a shower, before you two hog all the hot water." I head in, grab my clothes, and take a fast shower, the smile never leaving my face. When I turn the water off, I can hear them talking, as the wall is so thin.
"You’ve changed, man." My brother says.
"I have, you didn't believe me, but I told you I'm tired of the playboy life. I haven't been with a girl in months. I want more. I want to be a better person, even if the media won't change their mind. It's hard when even you won't believe me." Dallas says.
I'm glad they’re talking about it. I slowly start getting dressed, making sure I'm quiet enough that I can still listen to them. If they didn't want me to hear, they could have stepped outside after all.
"I'm proud of you. I also knew you'd wake up one day and want more." Landon says. He pauses, and then continues, "Just no Austin. I see it in her eyes she likes you, she always has, and she doesn't need to be hurt like that."
What the actual fuck, Landon? I'm pissed. I finish getting dressed with the intention of going out there and giving him a piece of my mind, when Dallas snaps.
"So, you’re proud I'm doing good. Yet, I'm just not good enough for your sister, but I’m good enough to be your friend?" Whoa, Dallas is pissed. His heavy footsteps rock the bus followed by the slamming of the bus door.
Great.
I step out of the bathroom.
"You're an asshole, Landon. He's been trying to prove to you for weeks he's changed, and the only thing you can say is great, but you still aren't good enough for my sister? Since when do you get a say on who I do, or don't date, or even
