Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
HENDRIX
“I just want you.”
I’ll give you anything. Everything. I’m yours, I wanted to tell her.
But I didn’t. Because not even a week ago, she told me she wasn’t ready for something serious. And words like that?
Definitely serious.
Fuck, I am so in over my head.
When did this change happen? When did this stop being a casual hookup with an old flame and turn into something I’m scared of losing?
But then I know my answer. Zara’s not just some old flame. She’s a raging fire. She’s a goddamn inferno, and I’ve been holding a torch for her since I was twenty-two. She’s the reason I’ve never been able to date. She’s why I’ve never been able to settle down with anyone else.
Because that’s exactly what it would be. Settling.
Zara will always be my first choice.
Fucking hell.
My gaze drifts to the closed door that separates us. I left her in the main part of the suite to finish her ice cream, while I came in here to set up the bath. I grew up in a house with three women, so I’ve been around enough girly shit to know what goes into a proper bubble bath.
Plus, this isn’t exactly rocket science.
Any man who claims otherwise is just fucking lazy.
I check the water temperature before reaching for the fancy basket of bath stuff the hotel provided. There’s high-end bubble bath, skincare, and who knows what else in here. I reach for the bubble bath and go to put the basket back on the counter.
I turn around and unscrew the cap. I flex my right hand, noticing a stiffness that’s become all too familiar. Musicians are known for getting tendonitis and shit, but damn. I’m only thirty-two. It’s too soon for that, right?
It’s probably just stiff from playing too much. Honestly, I welcome the ache. It means I’m finally doing what I love. And fuck, do I love it.
The other night, in between concerts, the four of us hung out in Asher’s room. The girls joined us, and we hung out and ate pizza. Zander, Ash, and I pulled out our guitars, and everyone else sang along.
It was the most fun I’ve had with a band…ever.
Now, I know why Zander signed with these guys, despite never wanting to be in the limelight. They’re easy to love, and it’s going to make it hard to say goodbye when the tour ends.
After a quick sniff test to ensure I’m not about to make the whole bathroom smell like my grandmother’s linen drawer, I pour a small amount of the bubble bath into the water. It begins to suds immediately.
The good stuff doesn’t require a lot. Hints of lavender and vanilla begin to fill the room, and when the tub is about halfway, I dim the lights and head out to fetch…
“Jesus,” I blurt out, my voice cracking a little like it did in middle school at the sight of Zara half naked. Well, almost half naked.
She looks up in alarm, trying to figure out what caused me to curse, but then sees me staring at her in nothing but an oversized T-shirt and gives a shy smile. “I didn’t want to drag all those clothes in there.”
“Very pragmatic of you, doctor.” She rolls her eyes and begins to fiddle with the hem of her shirt. It raises the hem slightly, revealing more of her smooth skin. It’s distracting, but not enough for me to notice that she’s a bit nervous.
It’s a stark contrast to the woman who so pointedly told me exactly what she wanted less than twenty minutes ago.
“What’s going on in that head of yours, Cupid?” I ask, taking a step forward.
“Do you—” She pauses for a second like she’s second-guessing herself. “Do you really like knowing what I want…in the bedroom?”
Her question confuses me for a moment. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t want you to feel like I’m being selfish, or worse, think I’m not enjoying myself.”
I close the distance between us. “Yes, I really do. I’m a direct sort of guy, Zara. I like knowing what you want. What you need and”—I smirk—“what you like. In and out of the bedroom. Want to tell me where this is coming from?”
“Tanner seemed to be offended anytime I asked for anything or told him to try something different.”
Fucking hell. “Tanner is a selfish prick who didn’t deserve you. Any decent guy not only appreciates pointers but gets off on having a confident woman in the bedroom. I love knowing I am touching you exactly the way you like it.”
“And what if all I want is to touch you?” Her voice is low. Sultry.
If I weren’t already half hard for her, I would be now.
“Then, I’d say we should take this conversation into the bathroom,” I say, a second before I bend at the waist and haul her over my shoulder. She shrieks like a banshee and flails. I slap her ass for good measure. “The water is getting cold.”
I stride into the spacious bathroom and set her down on the counter. She lets out a little yelp when her butt lands on the cold white marble. The thin cotton panties she’s wearing aren’t doing shit to keep her warm.
But I’m about to remedy that.
She becomes a captive audience the second my hand reaches over my shoulder to grab the back of my shirt. When it drops to the floor, she’s practically salivating. It’s a hell of an ego booster.
That video of my abs could get a hundred million views, and the only one I care about is the girl staring at me right now.
She makes me feel like a real rock star.
“What do all your tattoos mean?” she asks, her eyes wandering over the many works of art I have all over my body. I take a step closer to her so she can run her fingers over them.
It makes my whole body shudder.
Last time, when we were naked, we were basically strangers again, and neither one of us wanted to walk down memory lane when we had such limited time together.
So we spoke with our bodies rather than our words.
Now that we have the time, she wants the answers she’d never been able to ask.
“A lot of them are music or family related. This one”—I point to the bold script on my forearm that bears my last name—“being the most obvious. All of us have one, even Zander. But there are other family-inspired ones too. The waves that cover most of my shoulder and bicep are for my parents because they remind me of home. And over here…” I point to the M and the backward P with the crown on top.
“Your sisters,” she says with a smile. “That’s sweet.”
“Is it still sweet if I tell you they forced me to get it?”
“I doubt anyone could force you into anything. What about this one?” She points to the one on my chest, close to my—“Is that a…”
“Cherub?” I supply, feeling suddenly incredibly embarrassed. “Uh, yup. Ready for the bath?”
She hops off the counter and stalks toward me as I move toward the bath. Fuck, why didn’t I think this through?
Because you were thinking with your dick and not your head.
That night in her apartment, the room was dim, and we were so high on lust for each other that she didn’t seem to notice. Not that I think she would have said anything. It had been years, and the idea of me having a random angel tattoo on my body wouldn’t have rung any alarm bells.
But, now?
Maybe if I just strip off the rest of my clothes, she’ll be so distracted by my hard-on, she’ll forget all about it.
I reach for the fly of my jeans, and before I can even start to unbutton them, I hear her say, “Don’t even think about trying to distract me with your dick right now, Hendrix. Why do you have a cupid tattoo on your chest?”
I let out a heavy sigh as my gaze meets hers. “You heard what I said earlier, Zara. I was the stupid ass college student who walked away. Doesn’t mean I forgot.”
Her eyes widen, and for a second, I think she’s going to cry. Fuck, don’t cry, I silently chant. And then she moves, and before I can blink, her mouth slams against mine. It takes me but a moment to react, and then I pull her close, and I’m kissing her back.
She pulls back and shit, is she crying? “It should have been us,” she murmurs. “Back then, it should have been us.”
My heart squeezes, because it’s the same thought I’ve secretly had every time I picture her with that dick-for-brains Tanner.
It should have been me.
But it wasn’t.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say against the hollow of her shoulder. “We’re here now.”
She meets my gaze, that worried look returning. “What if I’m not ready? What if it’s too soon?”
I swallow the lump of nerves forming in my throat and gently hold the back of her head. “Then we just take it one day at a time, okay? No labels, remember? It’s just you and me figuring this out as we go.”
She gives a nod before reaching up to kiss me again, and this time, I don’t need a second. When her lips meet mine, I settle into the feel of it like I was meant for this. Meant for her.
“Come on.” I reluctantly pull back. “I owe someone a bath.”
I bend down to check the water, grinning as I notice the way she checks me out. The water has chilled slightly, so I add a bit more hot water while Zara watches me with a brazen intensity.
It’s moments like this when her confidence comes peaking back out that I know she’ll be all right, that whatever he did to tear it down isn’t permanent.
And it’s also a reminder of just how much I want to punch that guy in the fucking face.
But I’m not focusing on that right now.
I’ve been waiting days to spend another night alone with her, and I’m making the most of it.
Which reminds me…
“I’ll be right back,” I tell her. The blank stare she gives me makes me chuckle, so I follow it up with. “Get naked.”
The night I stayed over in her suite in Nashville, I found myself fumbling around the next morning in a half-asleep stupor, trying to locate her ringing phone. Instead, I stumbled upon something else.
In a drawer in her nightstand.
I’m hoping it’s found its way back into this hotel’s nightstand as well.
I stroll into the suite and head straight for the bed, picking the same side as before, and—
“There you are.”
I grab the little purple toy from its hiding spot and head back to the bathroom just in time to see Zara’s naked body slip into the water.
“You are so damn beautiful.”