Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
HENDRIX
It’s Saturday morning, and we are now in New Orleans. I’m sitting at a table all by myself—breakfast forgotten—in the private dining room the hotel has set up for us. And I’m staring at the entrance like a fucking stalker.
It’s been over twenty-four hours since that night at the club. Twenty-four hours since we kissed, and I had my hands wrapped around…
“Okay, man?”
I blink once, twice, and finally look up to see Zander standing in front of me, wearing a shit-eating grin. “What?”
“I said, Are you okay, brother? You’re staring at that door like I used to stare at that Playboy I stole from Macon’s room when I was fifteen.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “Boy Scout Macon used to jerk it to Playboy?”
“Even Macon was a teenager once. And he was never a Boy Scout. You have to have parents who give a shit to take you to stuff like that.” He plops down in the chair next to mine with a giant cup of steaming black coffee in his hands.
“Seriously, add some half and half or something to that. You’re creeping people out.”
“Quit changing the subject,” he says, rolling his eyes.
He leans back in the chair, stretching his long legs in front of him.
Like everyone else, Z is dressed down for the weekend in a pair of black joggers and a hoodie with a North Carolina surf shop logo on the front.
“What’s up with you and Zara? Elena won’t tell me anything.
Some bullshit about the girl code. And here I thought marriage vows trumped all, but what do I know? ”
I ignore everything else he said. “She’s talked to Elena?”
His mouth quirks. “Yeah. She’s been glued to our kid since we left the club on Thursday night. Made sure she made the flight okay yesterday and has barely left our hotel room since.”
“I thought you said it was just an ear infection.” He had texted me and the rest of the guys that night to inform us that Marisa was okay. Z’s little family had become an important part of Manic, and it showed, especially when its littlest member was down for the count.
Everyone was worried.
“It was—is—but it took a while for her fever to go down, and we were worried to take her on the plane. Zara has been a godsend. Is there such a thing as a live-in doctor? Because I would seriously consider it to save my wife’s sanity. She gets so stressed when Marisa is sick.”
“Is she doing better now?”
“She’s starting to. The antibiotics Zara gave her just started to kick in, and her fever is down, thank fuck, but we’re gonna stay in today and let her rest. I just came down here because I needed to walk.”
“Yeah, you’re like a dog. You need fresh air and exercise at least once a day.”
“Twice if I’m good.” He laughs and then takes a sip of his coffee.
A silence settles between us before he turns to me and says, “Before I say what I’m about to say, just know I love you, man.
But things have changed, and Elena and Marisa are now my whole world, so…
if you fuck up things with Zara and send her packing, at least one of them will be really upset. And then I’ll be upset, and—”
I hold up my hand. “I get it, Z. Don’t fuck the doctor. Again.”
“No, man,” he argues. “That’s not what I’m trying to say.”
I scoff. “Then what was that whole ‘I’ll kick your ass’ speech about?”
“First of all, I didn’t say I would kick your ass. No violence was threatened. Second, I was just trying to tell you to tread carefully. I am gathering that this thing between you two is more than just one night.”
I glare at him.
His grin is so wide, he could practically be a cartoon character. He’s enjoying this way too much. “And while this may be new territory for you, it doesn’t mean you don’t know what to do—”
“That’s exactly what it means. I literally don’t know how to…
” I don’t even know what to call it. Date?
I haven’t dated anyone since high school, and that was mostly out of necessity to fit in.
Since then, I’ve never really met anyone that I found even remotely interesting enough to put forth the effort.
Until I met a shy tutor during my senior year in college.
But I walked away then.
Would I walk away now?
“What do I do?” I finally say.
Zander makes a big show of setting down his coffee mug. He then weaves his fingers together and pretends to crack them all, like some supervillain in a children’s novel. “Listen closely, and let me teach you the ways, young padawan.”
He’s bringing out the Star Wars references?
Dear god, what have I done?
Two hours later, I’m standing in front of Zara’s hotel room, trying to gather the courage to knock on her door.
Fuck, this woman turns me inside out.
I still remember walking into my first tutoring session, and all the confidence I thought I had for impressing girls instantly vanished the second I saw her. It was like I reverted back to middle school, and the mere sight of a girl made me sweat.
And when I saw her in Edwin’s hallway, I knew nothing had changed.
Whatever good intentions Zander had, his quick and dirty guide to dating only seemed to make me more of a wreck.
Because now I knew all the ways I could fail.
And apparently, there are many.
What is it about someone that makes them stand out? Among the billion other people on the planet, what is it that makes you turn your head and think, yes…that’s the one?
I am not a player. Or at least by my definition, I’m not.
Since I lost my virginity to Sara Silva in the back of my Land Rover in eleventh grade, I’ve been with a decent number of women.
However, I’m not the kind of person who spends every night trolling apps for someone new.
I enjoy spontaneity, and I’ve never had issues finding a willing partner when I desire it.
I’ve just never wanted anything beyond a night or two.
Until her.
I continue to stare at the door. If I don’t do something soon, like fucking knock on it, someone is gonna walk down the hall and see me standing here. And since this whole floor is nothing but VIP suites for the band, their assistants, and Ridge, I’m bound to get hell for it.
I sigh. This is usually around the time when I would call myself out for being a pussy, but my sisters told me I’m not allowed to use that word when referencing anything weak, because, in their words, the pussy is powerful.
They’re not wrong.
The way Zara’s pussy strangled my cock when she came all over it…
My hand flies up to the door, and suddenly I’m knocking.
Mission accomplished.
I guess I just needed to find the right kind of motivation.
A few seconds later, I hear footsteps and then a lock turns. The door opens just enough for me to see her face. I awkwardly wave. “Hi.”
A warm smile spreads across her face as she pushes the door wider. “Hi.” She’s dressed casually today as well, in jean shorts and a gray V-neck T-shirt. Her hair is pulled back in a long braid over her shoulder.
Fuck, she’s gorgeous.
When I’m checking her out, I happen to notice the computer, paperback, and plush throw she has laid across her neatly made bed. She has the same stunning view of the river as I do, but I’m beginning to wonder if that’s all she’s seen of this beautiful city.
“Are you planning on staying in all day?” I ask, gesturing to the introvert’s starter pack she’s got going on over there. God, there are even snacks.
She glances back, revealing a hint of embarrassment. “I…Well, I mean…” She doesn’t finish. She doesn’t have to. I already know what she was going to say.
She didn’t want to go alone.
Well, I guess it’s a good thing I’m here, then.
“Grab your purse,” I tell her, before waving a hand toward the bed. “This is all just too depressing. I’m taking you out.”
“You don’t have to.” She begins to argue. “I don’t want to ruin your plans.”
“Cupid, you are my plans. Why do you think I’m here?” She stares at me as if she can’t decide whether to kiss me or cry. Not wanting to risk tears, I forge ahead. “Now, get a move on! We have lots to see.”