Chapter 16
16
CASH
Malachi’s raspy voice filled the venue as he gripped the mic stand and belted out “Gravity Pull.” The energy from the crowd was off the charts as people sang and danced in front of their seats. Britt had a bright smile on her face, her eyes locked on Silas as he pounded the drums at the back of the stage. His freshly dyed bleach-blond hair was damp with sweat, his arms moving with the beat. He looked good and focused. Healthy. That was the most important thing.
I reached for Britt’s waist and pulled her toward me to dance. She barely reacted, her body stiff. I tried again, swaying against her, but she stepped forward, just enough to make it clear she wasn’t into it.
Letting my hands drop, I tried to brush off what felt like a rejection. Maybe she was just caught up in the show. She had been excited about seeing Silas perform again, making a big deal about how lucky it was she had the night off and could come while the band was in town. But it was weird. In Toronto, she’d danced with me, laughing and smiling when I pulled her close. She had even kissed me in the middle of the concert just because. Now, it felt as though she wanted nothing to do with me.
She turned slightly. “Silas is killing it.”
“Yeah, he is.” I meant it. He was completely in the zone. He didn’t look like someone barely out of rehab. He looked like the rock star he was.
Britt didn’t say anything else. She kept watching, moving her hips a little to the song, but not in a way that invited me to join her.
After a few more songs, I leaned in, pressing my lips to the side of her neck while Malachi sang “Whispers in the Night,” expecting Britt to react with a little shiver and then turn her head so I could kiss her like she had the last time we heard the song. Instead, she pulled away again, her motion barely noticeable, but enough for me to feel it. My stomach tightened.
I let out a small breath, watching her as she kept her focus on the stage. “You okay?”
“Yep.” She didn’t look at me, just nodded.
The crowd roared as Malachi hyped them up and Jesse ripped into a guitar solo that had people losing their minds. Britt clapped, cheering along with them like everything was fine.
Maybe it was.
But that feeling—that tiny, nagging thing at the back of my mind—didn’t go away. It was still there the next morning, when I headed out of town with the band.
The hotel room in New York City was as nice as I had expected. It had big windows and stylish furniture, and was the kind of place that screamed money. Silas barely reacted, just tossed his duffel onto one of the beds like the lavish room didn’t faze him. I guess he was used to it with his rock star lifestyle.
I dropped my bag by the bed closest to the bathroom and rolled my shoulders. “At least they didn’t stick us in a shoebox.”
Silas smirked. “That’s not how Surrender rolls. At least not anymore. During our first tour when we were the opening act, the hotels weren’t as nice.” He flopped onto his chosen bed and stretched out. “Guess I should get used to this, huh? You and me, rooming together.”
“Yep.”
He turned his head and smirked. “Never had a roommate on tour before.”
I sat down and started unlacing my shoes. “And I’ve never shared a hotel room with another guy before.”
He shifted to lie on his side and propped his head on his hand. “Hope you’re not a sleep-talker. Or, I don’t know, one of those guys who stares at people while they sleep.”
I gave him a look and chuckled while shaking my head. “I don’t talk in my sleep, and I will only stare at you sleeping if something is off with your breathing.”
Leaning back on my hands, I watched as he pushed himself up and ran a hand through his already messy hair.
“Gonna take a shower,” he said. When he stood and stretched, his shirt lifted just enough to show a sliver of his toned stomach.
“Go for it.”
He grabbed his duffel, unzipping it to pull out a pair of sweats. He turned them over in his hands like he wasn’t really in a rush. Then he glanced over at me. “You cool if I change in here?”
I met his gaze. “Do whatever you want.”
He hummed like he was considering it. “You sure? I can just change in the bathroom if it makes you uncomfortable.”
“It doesn’t.”
He studied me for a second, a smirk on his lips, then shrugged and tossed the sweats onto the bed. “All right then.” He unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down, but kept his back turned to me.
I caught a glimpse of his firm ass before quickly turning my head. I told myself it was nothing, that guys change in front of each other all the time in locker rooms, but for some reason, my dick hardened slightly, and I couldn’t get the image out of my head.
Grabbing my phone, I texted Britt that we’d arrived so I wouldn’t watch a naked Silas Hale walk in front of me to the bathroom. Even so, I found myself picturing him standing under the hot spray of the water and all I wanted to do was unzip my jeans and come.
What the fuck just happened?
Silas and I spent the morning and the afternoon sightseeing since it was my first time in NYC. I tried to call Britt a few times to show her things, like the Statue of Liberty and Rockefeller Center, but she never answered my calls.
When we got back to the hotel so Silas could rest before sound check, he lounged on his bed while scrolling through his phone, then sat up to mess around on his practice drum pad.
I sat by the window, going through some affirmations and trying to decide which one I wanted Silas to repeat before the show. I glanced over at him. He was shirtless and focused, but not so much that I didn’t catch him smirking every now and then when he looked over at me.
“How do you feel about tonight’s show?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Think you’re gonna kill it?”
He didn’t stop playing, but shot me a playful glare. “Of course. Is there any doubt?”
I let out a short laugh. “Not at all. Just checking on your confidence levels.”
“Confidence isn’t the problem. I just gotta make sure I’m not too distracted by ...” As the words trailed off, his eyes locked with mine. “Things going on around me.”
I tilted my head slightly. “Like what?”
Silas gave me a slow, crooked smile. “Like the fact that I’m sharing a room with you. Usually, I take this time to, you know, let off some steam alone .”
I closed my eyes briefly and chuckled. “I … ah … get that.”
“What am I supposed to do to relax ?”
I swallowed. “Wait until tomorrow night when?—”
“When there’s a wall between us again?”
I cleared my throat. “I get that you have needs, but being this fresh out of rehab …”
“You can’t leave me alone.”
I lifted a shoulder and suggested, “Go take a shower.”
Silas grinned, his expression teasing but somehow still genuine. “You sure? You don’t mind if I get wet?” he asked.
I rolled my eyes, a grin tugging at my lips despite myself. “I’m just saying you’ll feel better. A quick shower will cool you down.”
He tilted his head, considering me for a moment. “I can’t promise I won’t make it a little steamy in there.”
The way his eyes flickered as he said it sent a strange heat creeping up my neck. I spun back to the window to focus on the city skyline instead of the man lounging on the bed.
Hearing the rustling of clothes, I glanced over my shoulder and caught a spark of mischief in his eyes as he grabbed a pair of jeans. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, trying to focus on the affirmations on my phone again. I still had to decide which one would work best for him, perhaps something simple and straightforward, like: I am in control of my choices, or something about his strength: I am stronger than my impulses . As I scrolled, I tried to ignore the sound of running water coming from the bathroom and what he was doing or thinking while he jerked off.
With past clients, I had discussed more about sex and when they could indulge in their desires. But the way Silas was talking to and looking at me, it was almost as though he had wanted me to join him. I told myself it was just guys shooting the shit because, yes, I’d had discussions with friends in the past about sex and masturbation. But those conversations had lacked any feeling of a hidden agenda. Maybe my assumption was because I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had sex myself. It felt like ages since Britt and I had been intimate, so maybe my own pent-up frustration was the reason I was having these thoughts.
A few minutes later, Silas came back out, wearing just a towel around his waist. His wet hair was pushed back, and he wore a relaxed look on his face. He stood in the doorway, eyes locking onto me again.
“Feel better?” I asked.
“Much. You should try it.”
I blew out a breath. “How about instead you give me an answer to my question from earlier?”
Silas raised an eyebrow. “About tonight’s show?”
“Yeah. How are you feeling?”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “I’ll be fine. Just another night of playing drums, right?”
I nodded slowly. “Right.” Then I added, “But I think you should repeat one of these before we go. It might help.”
I walked over and handed him my phone, which displayed the affirmations. He looked it over, but his lips quirked when he saw one of them.
“You sure about this one?” he asked, pointing to the line: I am stronger than any distraction .
“I think it fits.” Though, I wondered if maybe the phrase was better for me than him since my thoughts had been all over the place.
He let out a low chuckle. “If you say so. I’ll give it a try. Maybe it’ll be enough to get me through the night without thinking about what’s missing from my bed. It’s been far too long since I’ve been with a woman.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask if he’d ever been with a man, but why in the hell would I want to?
I’d never been with one either.