Finding Emotion (The Last Shot Tavern Series)

Chapter 19

Damon didn’t sleep. He dozed a little, but not enough to lose awareness completely. When his fingers could no longer continue their ministrations, he let his hand rest in Skylar’s hair as his thoughts raced.

Jimmy hadn’t sent him whatever media issue had set off her manager. The thought of having to address his manager again so soon twisted his stomach. Damon was like his own father in the way he avoided conflict. It was the only part of his father he recognized in himself.

Skylar had said ‘she’ this time. That had surprised him. At the tavern, she’d referred to a ‘him.’

Damon hadn’t given in to his curiosity about her. Besides what Jimmy let slip, he refused to look into Skylar’s past. No, that would lead to assumptions or the risk of figuring out what had happened to her without her being the one to tell him. He only wanted to know what she wanted to share.

And to hold her in his arms forever. He didn’t think he was wrong in his assumption that Skylar hadn’t been held often over the years. It wasn’t just that she didn’t like to be touched. She didn’t seem to want to feel emotions either.

That was what the sex was about more than anything. Sure, Skylar enjoyed the physical aspect, but that wasn’t what had driven her that night. No, not with the expression she’d had. It was more like she’d been trying to turn off.

When her arm wrapped around his waist and her fingers brushed the skin where his shirt had ridden up, he wasn’t immune to her touch. He breathed through the hint of arousal, picturing her empty gaze when she’d moved in to kiss him instead. Yeah, she’d bitten the hell out of his lip, too, but it was as if she had no longer seen him.

Damon wanted to curse when her leg hooked up over his, scorching him when it nudged what hadn’t been an erection before. If her breath hadn’t remained even where it feathered against his neck, he would have thought she did it on purpose. He could control himself, though. Not his morning wood, but that was exactly why he refused to sleep.

His fingers began moving again, the motions against her scalp shifting the ache from his dick into his chest. He was an idiot. She’d already punched straight through his defenses. Leaving his room to be with her again was the worst kind of self-sabotage.

He let himself enjoy it, limiting himself to that one hand in her hair as his body relaxed again.

Skylar’s breathing shifted just after dawn. The tensing of her hand at his waist gave her away, but she remained still, her ear pressed against his chest. He wished he could check how fast her own pulse fluttered.

When she moved her hand down to cup him, he expected it. The expert pass of her hand sent a thrum through him, but Damon bit his cheek to counter it. She would try to turn their morning into something else like she had the day before, and while he wanted it, he wanted something else more.

“Good morning,” he murmured.

Skylar lifted her head, and Damon let his hand fall away. She hadn’t removed her hand from his dick, though, and frowned down at him. “Something wrong?” Her fingers wriggled. “I wanted to reward my pillow.”

Damon used his arms to push himself up so he wouldn’t reach out to stop her. “I got what I wanted, Skylar.”

Her hand moved away on its own, and he breathed a sigh of relief. A few more strokes of those fingers, and he might have given in.

Skylar stood from the couch and stretched. “You’re a weird one.”

He was also a guy, and the way her shirt shifted over her breasts drew his gaze. He felt a pang as he realized he still hadn’t seen them. No, they’d never gotten completely naked with each other. He forced his eyes up to study hers, glad that she was staring out the window and not looking at him. Her pinched look was back. “What is it?” he asked.

“You’re sure we’re cool?” Her hands dug into her back pockets as she shifted. “I feel… I don’t know.” She shrugged, continuing to stare at the rising sun.

Damon hadn’t expected an expression quite like that, and sat up all the way. “We’re more than cool, but can I ask a favor?”

Some of her tension eased, and it clicked for him. She was feeling like the scales weren’t balanced. “Now you’re talking.” Her smirk flashed. “What did you have in mind?”

“Have breakfast with me?” Damon smiled back as her smirk changed to confusion. “I’ll order room service if you can skip the shake.”

Skylar moved the few steps back to the couch, her hands grabbing his face and tilting it up to hers. “Why are you so… so…” She groaned, leaning down to kiss him. Her lips were hard and brief, and she sighed against his mouth at the end. “Fine. You order. I’ll shower.” Her fingers slipped from his skin as she turned away and disappeared into her room.

Damon let out his breath, the tingles from his lips not quite fading before he rose to search for the suite phone. He ordered a mix of things, some healthier than others, then went to his room to change into something clean but nearly as comfortable. His sister had roped him into agreeing to check in on their dad that day.

He stared at his phone after returning to the living room. A couple of messages from Jimmy, but none with the video. It was too early to worry about his manager coming up to interrupt them. He wondered when he’d stopped enjoying his friend’s company. It must have been the tension about poaching Skylar from him. Not that Damon had. Not really.

Skylar saved him from his thoughts. Her eyes flicked down to his phone. “You watched it?”

Damon shook his head.

“I—” Skylar cleared her throat, looking away.

Damon stood but didn’t cross to her. He waited, letting the silence flow.

The elevator dinged, opening to show the food cart and server. Damon had them set up the breakfast buffet at the bar instead of the table, then added a tip to the bill. The older gentleman was neutral and not a fan of either of them, which was nice.

Erin snagged one of the barstools, then lifted some of the lids off the trays. “How much grub did you order?”

Damon joined her. “I wasn’t sure what you would eat.”

“Which is yours?” she asked, raising an eyebrow as she studied the different plates.

“The omelet if you’re not tempted by it,” he admitted, snagging the plate when she waved it away. They’d provided the salsa he’d asked for, and he dumped it out on top before reaching for a fork.

Skylar lifted an eyebrow but didn’t say anything as her hand hovered over the options. She sighed as she dragged the yogurt and grainy-looking oatmeal her way, but then she snagged a dry pancake, ripping her teeth into it. Her eyes closed as she chewed. “I’m gonna sic Mandy on you if she finds out.”

“There’s syrup.” He gestured to it as he smiled.

“Don’t tempt me,” she muttered, taking another big bite.

She stuck to the one pancake, spooning up the yogurt next and making a face as she swallowed.

Damon thought it was cute as hell and wanted again to tell her she should eat whatever she wanted. He kept silent as he finished his omelet and the bacon and sausage that had come with it.

Skylar’s eyes shifted to him as she put down her spoon. “Hey, I—” She shook her head. “Never mind.”

“What do you want to say?” he asked. He watched her bite her lip. “After your snoring last night, I think I can handle anything.”

She snorted. “I don’t snore.”

He pushed away his plate, propping his head on his hand as his eyes traced over her face. “No, you don’t.”

“Jerk,” she muttered, but she was smiling. “It’s nothing.”

“Not if you’ve wanted to say it twice,” he said.

Her hands gripped the counter hard enough the fingers whitened. “Maybe don’t watch the interview?” She didn’t look at him, but glared down at the remaining yogurt.

Damon’s chest felt like it was being squeezed again.

“It’s not that it’s that bad. I just—” She groaned. “Look, I’ll take care of it.”

“Okay,” Damon agreed.

Skylar glanced at him. “Seriously?”

“Well, I can’t promise that Jimmy won’t give me the gist of it, but I won’t watch the video myself.” As if mentioning him conjured the man, the elevator dinged and his manager headed toward them, though his normal smile wasn’t present. He had a box in his hand, a red ribbon around the thing.

Damon’s stomach sank. “Where?”

“Left at the front desk. I was tempted to chuck it, but…” Jimmy shrugged as he held out the box.

Damon had made it clear that he preferred to know about the gifts the one time his manager had attempted to save him from one. He took the box, frustration filling him. “Don’t tell me this hotel doesn’t have cameras.”

“A delivery service again. I’ve got the feelers out, but you know how it goes.” Jimmy shrugged.

“From that stalker?” Skylar asked. She wiped her hands on a napkin before holding one out. “Give it here.”

Damon wasn’t fast enough to prevent her from taking it. His hands had gone numb.

Skylar flipped the gift tag. “‘My Match,’” she read with a snort. “Blech, so cutesy.” She ripped into the gift wrap, letting the ribbon and paper fall to the floor. The small crystal she lifted out appeared even more delicate held between her fingers. “What, a castle? Is she saying you’re her prince or some shit?” Skylar snorted as she turned the tiny replica toward the light. “How cheesy.”

Damon’s next breath felt less tight. “The Crystal Villa. That’s what the venue we practiced at is called.”

“Was that the name?” Skylar shrugged as her hand shifted with the crystal clutched in her fist. “So, do I shatter this thing or do I get to keep it?”

“You want to keep it?” Damon asked, blinking at her.

“Well, sure.” Skylar’s grip loosened so she could study the crystal again. “Not my style, but maybe dangling between my breasts or something. Mandy can be crafty.”

Damon’s eyes shifted to the new crop top she was wearing. It showed more cleavage than what she normally wore did, which was typically black and showed off her midriff instead of the creamy slope of her breasts. “You’re going to wear it?”

“Front and center for my response videos. I bet that’ll make the fan think twice about sending you stupid shit.” Skylar laughed as she hopped up from the stool. “You got anything else?”

“No.” Damon got rid of everything after the cops hadn’t bothered taking it. He remembered the last gift from his crazed fan had already mentioned Skylar. “Hey, I’m not sure—”

She turned back, her lips pressing against his. Her smile as she pulled away made his chest ache. “Thanks for breakfast,” she said.

The elevator dinged, and her manager stepped out.

“Hey, wait,” he called when Skylar turned away, careful not to grab her to hold her back. She glanced at him, eyebrow lifted. “Can I have your number?”

“Oh, sure. But it’s new, so I don’t know it.” Skylar dug her phone out of her pocket. Her shoulders tensed as her eyes caught the screen, and her lips pressed together before she tapped at it. “Give me yours, and I’ll give it a one-ring.”

Damon rattled it off. He was struck by how quickly she put her phone away after, and he worried she was getting shit on again.

“Later,” she called back, snagging her manager’s arm as she passed. He remembered the crystal when she shoved it into Mandy’s hands, and he heard her say something about a necklace before the doors slid shut.

“You sure that was okay?” Jimmy asked as he took over Skylar’s seat next to Damon. “I bet it pisses off your stalker if she wears the crystal.”

Damon was worried as well. “Finally calling the person a stalker?” he asked.

“Shit, Dame, I’m sorry.” Jimmy sighed. “I know it bugs you. Makes me feel helpless, not being able to fix it.” He nudged the plate in front of him. “What’s all this? Need some sustenance after trying to keep up with her all night?”

“Don’t talk about Skylar that way.” Damon saw no point in correcting his manager’s assumptions over their activities. Talking about how he held her would be more of a betrayal.

“Hell, that chick last night said worse.” Jimmy slapped his back. “You lucky dog. Skylar must really have stamina if six guys can’t satisfy her.”

“Six guys?” Damon’s hand clenched against his thigh.

“Well, that’s what the chick said. Some orgy or something. She made it sound like it was constant. Was busting your balls a bit and doubting hard on the whole relationship thing between you two. It just made her look stupid. Our media team isn’t worried.” Jimmy reached for his phone. “Oh, you want to watch the interview?”

“No, I’m good.” Damon waved him off. He’d promised Skylar. He wished he hadn’t heard about the six guys. The way Skylar had looked the night before had worried him. Frustration simmered as his suspicions grew. Malcolm was the brawler, but Damon had the urge to hit something.

Jimmy tucked his phone away. “I’m looking forward to watching Skylar’s response videos, though. I bet she says some crazy shit.”

She’d said she would handle it. Damon’s hand ached where it continued to clench. “Are people saying the same stuff as the other day?”

“This is all career juice, Dame.” Jimmy slapped him on the back. “Skylar’s got an image. You try to white-knight again so soon, and you’ll ruin it.”

Even though he might have been right, the thought of allowing people to swipe at Skylar didn’t help ease Damon’s sudden need to do something for her. His phone beeping was a welcome distraction.

“Erin’s ready,” he said. The idea of visiting their dad didn’t appeal to him, but at least it was something that would take his attention away from Skylar’s breaking news. His dad hadn’t been a bad one, but losing his wife had torn him up, and he’d never been the same since. When Trenton had lost his wife, Damon had worried he’d follow the same path. He’d probably called his friend too much over the years. Seeing him so content in his new life with Celia had been a joy two nights before.

Damon brought out his phone as they rode the elevator down, saving the new number that had contacted him. It was ridiculous that he missed Skylar already, but that didn’t make it any less true.