Chapter 5 Jagger
FIVE
Jagger
ONE YEAR EARLIER
“Mmm,” Delilah sighs as I carefully roll out of her grasp, re-tucking the blanket around her breathtaking naked body.
I look out over the rustling trees as rain gently patters against the glass panes of the window next to us.
Here, I can almost forget about the life that exists beyond the nest—the crazy publicity, the demands of my record label, and my asshole bandmates.
God, how I wish I could stay here forever, snuggled up with her in our own perfect world.
Delilah stirs in her otherwise peaceful sleep.
“Rest,” I whisper, stroking her cheek.
I take a moment to admire her, relishing in the way her untamed curls are strewn over the pillow, how her full lips part with each breath. She’s perfect.
Her heat is ebbing. After two days of non-stop fucking and our bodies being locked together for hours on end, we’re both exhausted. Regardless, I’ve never been more content and satisfied. I never felt like I’ve truly belonged anywhere before… until I met her.
Stumbling upon her in the street was fate. It had to be. I was walking around campus after sneaking away from Valerie, Brad, and Drew who were both enjoying themselves far too much with female students on campus.
I tiptoe over to check my cell phone, groaning when I see there are over fifty messages and voicemails waiting.
I let Valerie know that I was taking a few days off but didn’t tell her where I am.
The one good thing about the Grand Point Lodge is their discretion.
I booked the penthouse a few weeks ago. After witnessing the carnage Brad and Drew caused during our last show, I refused to stay at the same hotel as the two of them again.
I made the right choice. The thought of them being around Delilah makes my stomach churn.
I was only meant to stay for one night, but I promised to pay the lodge five times their usual fee to extend my stay.
In addition, they’ve provided everything I’ve asked for, including bountiful feasts delivered straight to our room whenever Delilah and I have come up for air.
DREW
Dude, WTF?!!!! You missed the private jet.
ME
I’ll join you later. Going offline for a few days. See you back in the city.
The concert at SVU was our last stop on this tour, so I don’t have anywhere else to be right now.
“James?” Delilah’s soft voice comes from behind me.
Since coming down from her unquenchable desire for my knot, she’s been more cognizant, having more questions for me. Maybe it’s selfish that I haven’t told her who I really am yet, but I’m enjoying her not knowing.
I stash my phone into my pocket, returning to her. “I’m right here.”
She’s pulled the blankets up to her chin, smiling coyly. “Coming to join me?”
“You need to eat,” I insist.
Her stomach rumbles loudly in agreement. “I guess I am a little hungry…”
“I’ll be right back.”
I pull out my cell as I head to the front desk, using the opportunity to send a text to Valerie, who is losing her shit. I can imagine her now—chain-smoking and ranting to anyone who’ll listen. Her biggest star going AWOL is not exactly a good look, but I’m entitled to a break. She’ll get over it.
After speaking to our personal butler, I come back to find Delilah wrapped up in my shirt, lounging across the sofa in the living room. There’s a record player on the sideboard, the vinyl spinning, playing old-school jazz.
“Everything sounds so much better on vinyl,” she says, her head swaying to the music. It’s the first time I’ve seen her out of the nest since we arrived. Her smile instantly quashes the storm raging inside me. She ogles the plate in my arms. “Is that apple pie?”
After being around her, I couldn’t resist requesting it. “More food is coming,” I reply. “But I couldn’t have you going hungry while we wait.” I take a seat next to her, handing her a spoon.
“How’re you feeling?” I put my hand on her forehead. Her temperature seems to be much lower than it was.
“Much better. Thank you.” She looks at her lap, pulling a blanket over her legs to cover them. Considering how intimate we’ve been, her sudden burst of shyness only makes her more adorable. “For everything.”
“You don’t need to thank me.”
“But, James…” She looks around, as if she’s only now taking in where we are. More questions are coming. I can feel it. They were inevitable, but I’m still not ready. “How can you even afford to stay somewhere like this? Do you have a trust fund? Are you in the mafia?”
Trying to ignore the way my stomach curdles, I examine the dessert, mapping the trail of cream melting over the surface of the pie.
“There’s something you should know.” It’s now or never. “James is my birth name, but that’s not the name most people know me by.”
Her eyebrows lower in confusion as her brown eyes stare deeply into mine, glimmering with curiosity. She has the kind of eyes that tell a story, making it easy to read her emotions.
“Okaaaaay…” She licks the spoon in a way that definitely should be illegal and sends my cock springing to attention, remembering how good it felt to be fucking her throat a few hours before. “So you’re a spy with a hidden identity then?”
“Not quite.” I chuckle.
“So what name do most people know you by?”
“Most people call me Jagger.”
I wait for the penny to drop.
“Jagger?” She frowns. “The only Jagger I know is…”
There it is.
Realization.
Her eyes widen, and she drops the spoon, sending stewed apple filling flying. The splatter on the sofa arm may as well be a bomb going off. Fear holds my heart in its grasp.
“Wait…” Her hands tremble. “Your…”
“Jagger Knight,” I confirm, a lead weight crashing to the pit of my gut. I refuse to meet her gaze, too afraid of what I may see there. Instead, I focus on the splash of pie. Will this change things? Will she look at me differently? “You may have heard of my band, Pack Fire.”
“James—I mean, Jagger—I think everyone has heard of Pack Fire.” She shakes her head. “I… I’ve heard your music, but I’ve never watched any of your music videos, and I don’t really follow celebrity news. I didn’t know.”
“Sorry if this changes things,” I say abruptly, a coldness sweeping through me. “I should have told you sooner. I just didn’t want you to treat me any differently. When people know who I am, they… I guess they’re more interested in what I can give them versus getting to know me.”
Her small hand takes mine. “I don’t care that you’re famous.
None of that bothers me.” She squeezes my large palm in reassurance, grounding me to the present.
“I care about you. The real you. The guy I’ve gotten to know this weekend.
The alpha who got me through my heat. What you do for a living changes nothing. ”
How on earth have I managed to stumble upon the sweetest, most understanding omega in the world? The tension strangling my muscles releases as I smile, realizing my eyes are watery. I sniffle, blinking away the tears.
In my daily life, I’m used to omegas pursuing me because they’re chasing status or want to cross hooking up with a celebrity from their bucket list. There’s no shortage of women wanting to date me.
Valerie often forces me to make public appearances with famous models or actresses as my love life is such an intense topic of interest. The speculation helps boost sales.
To the record label, I’m just a product.
Something to sell. They don’t care about me or what I want.
Not really. As long as the money keeps rolling in.
“You’re pretty damn perfect, you know.” I brush the back of my knuckles down her smooth, brown cheek.
“I don’t know about that.” She laughs. The carefree way she’s accepted my life is something I didn’t believe was possible. “You should see my bedroom. It’s a total mess, and my knitting leaves a lot to be desired.”
“I’m used to chaos.” I wink at her. “My fans call themselves the ‘Fireflies’ and can be pretty intense. Plus, I’m used to being followed around by paparazzi, and I’ve had more than one stalker.”
I laugh wryly, but her expression hardens.
“That’s not funny.” She strokes the back of my hand with her thumb, almost like she can see past my playful facade. “You should be entitled to privacy.”
“It doesn’t always work like that.”
“Well, it should.”
“Try telling my manager that.” I sigh. “If she had her way, I’d be followed around by cameras 24/7.” I watch her closely. “Does knowing who I am really not change anything for you?”
“My feelings? No. We’re scent matches. Nothing is going to change that.” Her top teeth latch onto her plump bottom lip. “But I come from a small town. I don’t have all the life experience you do. I don’t know how things work. How will—”
“I don’t need you to know any of that,” I try to reassure her. “I just need you to be you. My rainbow.”
She’s my destiny. The only woman for me. I don’t need her to change anything about herself. She’s the sparkling ray of light who crossed my path when I was wandering through the dark.
“Rainbow,” she mulls over the term before beaming. “I like it.”
Fuck, if I woke up to that smile every day, I’d die a happy man. Then her smile dulls.
“What is it?”
“I hadn’t thought about what happens next.” She peers down at her hands. “You’re going to be leaving soon, right?”
“I…” I haven’t allowed myself to think much further ahead. I’ve been enjoying our bubble too much, not wanting it to end. “I have some obligations, but I meant what I said. You’re my scent match.”
“We’ll work it out.” She looks up at me again, determination blazing in her brown eyes. “Together.”
As her now-familiar body that I’ve spent the last few days worshipping nuzzles against me, my mind is short-circuiting. The whistling wind and hail slamming against the windows sound like warning bells, reminding me of what’s waiting beyond the glass.
Dread and anxiety chew at my insides. Even though we’ve only known each other for a few days, I’m more protective over her than I have been over anyone or anything.
How will Delilah deal with the realities of my life?
Would she want to come on tour with me? If she did, how would she deal with screaming fans hurling insults at her?
She’s so special. She’s positive and seems to have boundless optimism, yet…
my lifestyle could ruin her, then she’d end up hating me.
She may be my scent match—the omega who is made for me—but my life is a toxic dumpster fire. Am I really who she needs?