Chapter 22
October rolls to November. My days go by in this odd and lovely sort of bubble.
I don’t think about anything other than the here and the now.
I don’t see anyone odd or experience the feeling I’m being watched or followed.
Not one single memory of my old life surfaces. It’s almost like it never even existed.
I sleep through the night. I go for my morning runs with West. Anne and I work alongside each other. It is literally like I really am just Eve, the roadie.
Things between me and West are the same, but also different. I’ve become almost ridiculously responsive to him. Each time he grins, or speaks, or touches me, everything hums with an awareness that lingers even after he’s gone.
“You did a really good job today,” Ford compliments me, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Thanks,” I say, and it occurs to me that I set up his entire area all by myself. I knew exactly what to do with the equipment, where everything went, and how to connect it all as he prefers. “Ford, I appreciate you mentoring me. I’m learning so much working under you.”
He gives an embarrassed shrug, “Oh, now… Guys will be here in an hour for sound check.” He nods to my guitar. “You’re done for a bit. Why don’t you take a little downtime and relax.”
“That sounds good.” And so grabbing my guitar, I cradle it as I sit down behind the soundboard in my own little private area. I run my hands along the smooth finish, then my fingers pick over the strings to run through the warm up chords.
I transition into a melody I made up last year.
A soft rhythm that drifts and surrounds me with comfort, one that offers apologies for the cruelties in my life and promises love and safety for enduring.
It’s a rhythm that heals and settles as it flows through my very core, and as I strum the last chord I stay still, soaking in the gentle reverberation the guitar offers as it gradually quiets.
With a sigh, I slowly tune back in to my surroundings to see West standing off to the side, watching me. My lips curve. “Hi.”
“Eve,” he breathes. “That was beautiful.”
His compliment warms me, and I give a little shrug. “It’s just something I made up.”
“You made that up?” His brows lift. “That’s beyond good.”
“Thanks,” I say, wondering if it really is that good. Or…or if he’s just saying that.
West puts his hand over his heart. “It has a dream-like quality to it like it’s meant to settle someone’s soul.”
He hit it perfectly, and I love that.
He shifts then, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out an envelope. He hands it over as he steps around the equipment and sits down beside me.
“What’s this?”
“Since we’re on a year-long tour, I thought you might like to decorate your guitar case with stickers from all the places we’ve been.” He motions to the envelope. “You’ll find Nashville in there and New York. Chicago and Detroit. Every other place we’ve been as well. Plus here, Columbus.”
I open the envelope and stare inside at the colorful stickers. What an unbelievably cool idea and very kind gesture. “Thank you, West.”
He shrugs. “It’s not much—”
“They’re perfect.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely.”
“Cool,” he says, giving me a shy grin that has got to be the best one I’ve seen on him yet.
“Yeah, cool.”
He looks over at my guitar case. “Shall we do them now?”
“Sure.” I move the guitar off my lap and put it back inside its case.
West pulls it closer, scooting in behind me as he does until our bodies are just a fraction from touching.
The soundboard is behind us and the equipment is all around us, cocooning us in our own private world.
I take in a nervous breath and hold it as he reaches around me and inside the envelope to pull out a sticker.
“Where do you want it?” he whispers, and I catch a hint of shakiness in his voice that tells me he’s also nervous.
But I don’t answer, because I’m not sure I can.
He shifts closer still, leaning in, and his lips graze my ear. “Breathe,” he murmurs, and I let out a shaky breath.
“K-kind of hard to do when you’re doing that,” I admit.
I feel his lips curl against my ear, and on instinct, I shift a little to give him better access. He moves down just a fraction to take an oh-so-gentle nibble. Wonderful warmth washes through me, and I soak it in.
Lightly, West rubs his nose up the side of my neck and back down. “Mmm, you smell delicious.”
“Dove soap,” I mumble and then realize what a stupid thing that is to say.
He slips my ball cap off, and I take and hold another breath.
“Breathe,” he reminds me again, pressing a kiss to my jaw.
I do, inhaling a raspy one. “West…”
He continues nuzzling. “Hmm?”
“I can’t think. I can’t breathe.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
Do I want him to stop?
“No.” I’m not ready for this to be over.
“Good, because I don’t want to, either.” Snaking his arm around my stomach, he turns me and pulls me sideways right up onto his lap. I death clench his bare arms and draw in a deep breath, temporarily mute.
“You’re shaking,” he whispers. “Are you cold?”
“No.”
“Nervous?”
“Yes, very.”
“About being on my lap?”
“Yes, and everything else.”
He opens his legs then, and I plop right to the cement floor. I give him a startled look, and when amusement tickles through his expression, I can’t help but laugh.
Smiling, he runs his fingers along my cheeks and into my hair, sending tingles across my scalp, and cupping my cheeks in his palms, he slowly brings me toward him. “I’ll stop if you want me to…?”
“I don’t,” I whisper.
“Good,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss at the corner of my mouth before leisurely moving to my top lip where he leaves another.
He brushes over to the other corner and lingers there, then slides down to my bottom lip.
He sucks it into his mouth, biting down lightly on its release, then places one last gentle kiss on the same corner he started at before lifting his head.
My lashes flutter open in time to see him coming right back toward me.
This time the contact of his lips stirs something deep in me and has me arching into him as he slides his hand along my hips and pulls me up onto his lap again.
Shivers dance up and down my spine and spread across every inch of me, and way down deep inside I feel this need that has me opening my lips.
His tongue slips inside, circling mine, and tastes like such good cinnamon I want to suck it. But I don’t know what to do so I just mimic his actions, though I’m sure I’m not doing it right.
Trailing his hand along my hip, he pulls me closer and deepens the kiss. Somewhere in the back of my mind I’m aware that my fingernails dig into his arms, but I can’t make myself stop.
He pulls back, and I instinctively follow him.
My world spins as I slip my tongue back inside his mouth and lick the cinnamon.
He must like it because he groans and pushes deeper and I free fall into the kiss.
Hunger and lust mingle, and it overwhelms me and has me moving even closer, pressing tight to him until he gently pulls back again.
Breathing heavily, we stare at each other. His intenseness reflects back what I feel—hunger, need, want, passion. We so are beyond the bounds of friendship now.
He licks his lips, and right as I lean toward him again, he shakes his head. “We have to stop. My God.” He pushes me away from him with a nervous laugh. “Shit.” He shifts and adjusts his jeans.
I blink out of my daze, wanting nothing more than to do that all over again, and right as I’m contemplating grabbing him, he says, “Hey there, Blue Eyes.”
A lovely feeling buzzes through me like my cells were only operating at half power until this moment. “Hey.”
He rubs his nose affectionately against mine.
His lips twitch as he brings my hand up to his mouth.
“So.” He kisses my thumb. “I was thinking.” He kisses my index finger.
“My sister is turning fifteen.” He kisses my middle finger.
“We’re having a little party.” He kisses my ring finger.
“What do you say, will you go with me?” He kisses my pinky.
I snap out of my sensual haze. “What?”
He tugs on my earlobe. “You heard me.”
“Where?”
“My home. In Florida.”
“Um…” I slide off his lap. “Uh…”
“Next weekend.”
“No.” I shake my head. “No.” I shake my head again. “I can’t do that.”
Both his brows shoot up. “Why not?”
I slide farther away from him. “B-because…”
Because… well, I don’t know why because. Wait, yes I do know. Because I’ve never done anything like that before. I don’t think I can, can I? And…what if his family hates me?
West grabs my legs and slides me back. “Tell you what, we’ll go as friends. It’ll be just like you and Anne going somewhere.”
West and I are definitely not like me and Anne.
“My family’s great. My dad will be there and my sister. Gramma and my cousin. You’ll see. You’ll fit in perfectly.”
“Will your mom be there too?”
Sadness flicks, like the last time I mentioned his mom, and just as quickly it's gone. He shakes his head. “No.”
That sadness is the reason why I find myself saying, “Okay.”
He brightens. “Really?”
“Really.”
Grabbing the front of my hoodie, West tugs me toward him and plants a quick kiss on my lips at the exact second Anne peeks her head over the soundboard.
“West and Eve sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G.” She makes a couple of annoying smooching noises, and I turn about a million shades of pink and red and probably purple.
West grins as he gets to his feet and then helps me up. He gives Anne a playful shove. “You’re infuriating. Go away.”
The guys begin to filter on stage, and West goes to join them. I tuck my ball cap back on and straighten my clothes as Anne gets right in my personal space. “Tongue and all?”
I flush and look away.
“Oh, no you don’t.” She gets right in my space again. “Tongue and all?”
I nod, my skin getting even hotter.
She hoots. “That’s what I’m talking about!”
“Shh,” I hush her, giving in and letting an enormous smile split my cheeks.
I just kissed West Wolf. Tongue and all.