Finding Emotion (The Last Shot Tavern Series)

Chapter 9

Skylar woke up in a cold sweat, not surprised but pissed anyway. The goddamn memory was back in her nightmares. It was vague enough that she could shove it away as she scrambled from the bed. The whole damn incident was muddled because of the fucking drugs she’d been on.

Somehow, that had made it all more nightmarish. She was still weak as fuck for it to continue to plague her.

She dragged herself into the attached bathroom, turning on the taps as cold as she could stand it. The shower made her shiver, but it removed that sickly smell of sweat that made everything worse. Her fingers pressed against the tile as she let the water beat over her head and back. The water would have to be enough to clean her since she doubted she could handle even her own hands on herself. Soaping herself down wasn’t going to work.

Damon hadn’t made things any better with his offer to get her off. He’d be the type that would go for her clit. He was a giver like that, she’d bet.

Her body shuddered under the cold spray. She lifted her head, letting it pound her face instead. The tension headache that had threatened before she’d gone to sleep had come on full force, and was pounding now.

Exertion was one of the best things, but Mr. Sweetface had nixed the kind she’d wanted earlier. She’d planned to fuck him until they both collapsed, if he lasted that long. He’d had something to prove, though, so she’d had hope. Only apparently he didn’t fuck outside of a relationship.

That was just like him.

She dragged on some running shorts after her shower, and a top that would keep her chest from bouncing. The elderflower scent went on her neck so she could smell it without effort, but even it didn’t do shit. Fresh air would be best for the headache, but that wasn’t in the cards with the paparazzi camped out because of the clueless rock star. She reached for her cell, sure that Mandy had gotten the specifics on the hotel’s gym.

A text from Jack waited for her instead. ‘Why blocking tour? R U still not over it?’

Goddamn asshole. Yeah, like she was the one at fault. She typed out a ‘fuck off’ and went to block the new number.

Another text vibrated. ‘Slut.’

Skylar finished blocking him, then shot off a message to Mandy to have her number changed again. She didn’t bother asking about the gym. She’d figure it out herself.

Flipping the lock on the bedroom door, she stomped out before she remembered she had a roommate for the first time in forever. Another glance at her phone showed her she’d only been asleep a few hours. Damon probably needed more beauty rest than that.

Her phone beeped from a new text, and Skylar tossed it to the couch instead of looking. The phone bounced before plopping on the carpeted floor, but she didn’t care. Mandy always figured out where she’d gone, and the racing of her heart in her chest told her she didn’t need to check who the newest message was from. How he got through so many blocks, she wasn’t tech savvy enough to understand. She swiped the card for the elevator, shifting from foot to foot as she waited for it to climb up.

Hopefully no one would be down there. A full-out sprint on the treadmill was the best she could do to try to outrun the implosion that was coming—and not the fun kind. If Mandy found out, it’d be another trip to counseling and another coping mechanism that would only work temporarily.

The elevator dinged, and she moved forward. The damn mirrors flashed her image back at her. She didn’t look much like a rock star with her wet hair pulled back in a lopsided ponytail on her neck, a pale-ass complexion, and that skittering panic only too obvious in her eyes. She blinked, forcing her lips to curve into a smile she didn’t feel as she climbed on board anyway. Fuck it. She jabbed at the lobby button. She’d block everything behind the wall again once she was too tired for her thoughts to race.

At least the doors slid shut before Mr. Sweetface showed up and did something stupid, like ask her what was wrong.

Damon enjoyed the lethargy that weighed down his body as he climbed up from a deeper sleep than he’d had in a while. He hadn’t admitted to Jimmy that he’d been struggling to sleep lately. His manager would have teased him over his anxiety about his stalker again. It had been the gift that showed up while he was in the shower months ago. The thought of someone being able to stand over him and watch him sleep made him feel helpless. Insomnia wasn’t a great solution, but it hadn’t plagued him in Skylar’s suite.

The fact that the floor was restricted to card access itself had helped. Based on the social media he’d skimmed before conking out, it wasn’t like his staying in Skylar’s suite was a secret. Whatever it was, he woke up feeling better than he had in a long time, even if he had slept part of the day away.

He rolled over in bed, staring up at the white ceiling. Coming like a geyser the day before hadn’t hurt either. It had been a while, he realized. He’d avoided women the entire tour.

After her reaction earlier, the niggling idea that Skylar hadn’t sucked him off out of enjoyment had caught hold. He kind of hated that. Damon had never considered himself a user before, despite the groupies. He’d always given way more than he’d taken in orgasms. He loved the sleepy smile of a limp and content woman more than anything else.

Which was why his body had been raring to go after doing something that should have been platonic on the plane. Her surprise at the massage had shifted into something he hadn’t even realized he’d been craving.

He wondered if he should apologize to her again, but he figured she’d brush it off like she had before. She was more complicated than she let on.

He forced himself out of bed, knowing they needed to figure out what they were going to do about the fake dating thing today. He also was itching for a run. It was too bad he didn’t have his own stuff. He’d much rather slip into gym shorts than back into the nut-hugging jeans.

When Skylar didn’t appear to be anywhere in the suite, he regretted not having his stuff even more. The bedroom she had used stood open and empty. No lights had been switched on, but with the bank of windows letting in the midday sun, that wasn’t necessary. The growl in his stomach told him he needed something before he headed to the park. He spied a bowl of fruit he hoped was real on the counter between the living room and the kitchen and crossed to it as he checked his phone.

His foot kicked something on the way, and he frowned down at what turned out to be a phone. Skylar had left hers on the ground. He was surprised but impressed. She must have been less attached to it than he was to his.

His own phone vibrated in his hand. He turned it over and accepted Jimmy’s call. “Hey, man. I’m up.”

“Is it true?” Jimmy asked, his tone more serious than Damon was used to. “You’re staying in the suite with Skylar?”

“Just because of the press bullshit. Nothing happened like you’re picturing.”

A more familiar laugh sounded. “Shit, man, did you at least get to hold on to her while you slept? I bet she’s an epic pillow.”

“The suite has separate bedrooms. Skylar isn’t even up here anymore.” Damon reached for the fruit, happy when the banana was real and peeled like normal. “So I take it her manager contacted you?” he said around his first bite.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jimmy said. “I swapped digits with her on the plane, and she let me know what was what. She’s no Skylar, but the glasses look is pretty cute, don’t you think?”

Back in high school, Malcolm’s sister, Katie, had worn glasses, and Damon had been more than attracted to her. He’d thought she was the one for a while, but she’d only had eyes for Blake. “I can dig glasses.”

“Because you’re a four-eyes yourself.” Jimmy laughed again. “I bet you couldn’t see shit if you took your contacts out.”

Damon polished off the last of the banana. “I slept in them, but I need my stuff. Did you already set it up somewhere?”

“The hotel staff should be heading your way as we speak. I figured you wouldn’t sleep much past now and would need it. I’m supposed to touch base with Mandy soon about getting a key card to come and go.”

“We should all get together to talk next steps.” Damon remembered how tense Skylar had seemed earlier. “It might be best if the breakup hits the media sooner than later.”

“Is the bloom off already?” Jimmy snorted, but then his tone shifted. “Oh, you must have caught the shit Skylar’s been getting.”

Damon’s eyes dropped to the phone he had kicked as he frowned. “What type of shit?” He bent down to pick it up. The screen lit up when he turned it, the most recent message clear to read.

“Wait, you don’t know?” Jimmy’s confusion seemed to echo in Damon’s ear.

The unknown number had not been kind. Damon placed her phone on the countertop. No wonder she was less than attached to it if she got that kind of bullshit.

“It’s just some typical slut-shaming,” Jimmy said. “If you scan her feed, she gets it all the time, but not at this level. Your fans got a little heated over the possessive crap.”

“Fix it.” Damon’s lips felt numb around the words. Jimmy had always done a good job of keeping the haters away from him, but Damon had also thought better of his fans. Besides the stalker, he’d never had any issues. And even the stalker said shit like they were his match and praised him.

“I can’t fix social media, Dame,” Jimmy protested. “It’ll blow over soon enough. Skylar has an image she’s proud of.”

“So do I. It’d be weird if I didn’t respond to people hating on my girl.” It might have been fake, but that was what she was to the public: his girl. No woman should have been slammed for owning their sexuality, but Jimmy was right, he couldn’t fix social media. Damon could, however, respond to his private life. “I’ll post something to let my fans know how I feel.”

“Wait! Shit, no.” Jimmy sighed. “I’ll get our social media rep on it. You’re right, we need to respond, and a protective response will only boost you.”

“This isn’t about a boost.” Damon glared at the cell phone Skylar had left behind.

“Yeah, okay, lover boy. What, you starting to get a thing for her?” Jimmy snorted. “She’s way too rock star for you.”

“I know she’s out of my league.” Damon rubbed a hand over his face. “Hell, I want a run.”

“Got to work those blue balls off?” Jimmy teased. His tone sobered. “Seriously, man, stick to the indoor gym, okay? The paparazzi are crawling outside the hotel.”

“Hey, I look good in running shorts.” The thought of the treadmill took away some of his desire to move, but not all of it. “If they follow me around, it’ll be a little easier on Skylar.” Wherever she had gone. It was silly to wish she had left a note or something.

“These guys aren’t playing right now. Listen to me, for once.”

“Okay, I get it. Besides, when do I not listen to you, Jimmy?” The elevator dinged, opening to a rolling cart. He eyed the staff member like he’d been doing ever since the surprise gifts had started, but waved the guy toward the room he’d used. “My stuff just got here. See if you can set something up for after my run on a stupid treadmill?”

“Sure. I get the feeling Skylar is hard to pin down, though.” Jimmy said goodbye, and Damon lowered his phone.

The staff member came back out a short time later, and Damon remembered to tip him.

“Oh, I set your gift on your bed, just like it was in your room,” the guy said with a nod as he rolled the cart back to the elevator.

Silence was left behind after the doors swooshed shut. Damon forced his feet to move. The white box was the least aggressive thing he’d seen from his fan in a while, but it still made his stomach twist.

Inside was something that made little sense at first. Then Damon remembered Skylar had referred to him as a cinnamon bun during the interview. The icing had melted a little, but even hours-old, the treat should have appeared appetizing. It didn’t. He wouldn’t want one for a long time.

On the upper flap was the crazed fan’s typical signature: ‘My match.’ But lower, written in the same red, were new words: ‘Not hers.’

His pulse thrummed in his throat. In all the hoopla, he hadn’t considered the possibility that the crazed fan would care about Skylar being linked to his name. His hand shook as he closed the flap, making him feel just as weak as everyone thought.