Chapter 9 #2
I’m wholly unprepared for the multitude of flashing lights that assault us as we step out into the dim parking garage.
My name is yelled out as much as Stone’s is, and I freeze.
A group of photographers surge into the space between Jade and me.
They ask so many questions over each other, it turns into just one cacophony of voices.
“Get the fuck back!” Adam’s voice booms out.
A warm arm slips around my waist as Stone blocks the group of yelling men from my line of sight. “You good?” he asks, pulling me flush against him.
I nod, even though I’m not good at all. Not a single bit. Stone helps me up into the SUV while Adam holds the crowd back. I follow Jade into the third row and watch as she angrily types out a text.
“Who the hell told them I was here?” Stone asks no one in particular.
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Jade murmurs. “If it’s anyone from our camp, I’m going to be pissed.”
I stare out the window as photographers try to get a shot of the interior of the SUV while the driver pulls away.
Stone reaches back and lightly wraps his fingers around my ankle.
He doesn’t speak, but he does exchange a look with Adam.
If I weren’t in a daze from the signing and then the group of photographers, I’d probably find that look between them suspicious.
But as it is, I’m just happy to be in a quiet vehicle on my way back to the hotel.
My bed and room service are both calling my name. There’s no way I’m doing anything but rotting in bed and eating the best bad food. Finding a Pilates studio for a workout sounds a lot like a problem for tomorrow’s Hazel.
I woke up to a phone full of a ridiculous amount of notifications. Like an obscene amount. I’m surprised it hadn’t exploded while I slept off my evening of extroversion.
I decide to open Sierra’s text first, even though Greg sent me several as well as Mom and Grams.
Sierra: Do you have something to tell me?
Me: Not particularly.
She sends an Instagram post from an internet tabloid with a series of photos of Stone wrapped around me while helping me into the SUV last night. I scroll through them, unsure of how this can possibly be newsworthy until I get to the last one. The angle makes it look like his hand is on my ass.
Truthfully, I don’t remember him touching me at all, though I know he did when he stepped between me and the swarm of photographers. But if he did touch my ass, I’m sure it was just a coincidence.
Sierra: Is that a rock star with his hand on your ass?
Sierra: Talk about an upgrade from Greg
Me: It’s just the angle the of the photo
Sierra: Maybe, but even if he didn’t touch your ass, he was definitely looking at it
Holy fuck.
She’s right.
But why?
Me: He was probably just making sure I didn’t slip as I got into the SUV
Sierra: Babe.
She sends a screenshot with two arrows pointing from his eyes to my ass.
Me: He’s a rock star, maybe he can’t help it. Put some ass in front of him, and he’s going to look
Sierra: Maybe
Me: The signing went amazingly well last night
Me: How are you feeling?
Sierra: I’m so glad! Better, but I am sorry again for missing it
Me: Jade came along, so I wasn’t alone
Sierra: So did Stone
Me: Obviously
Me: I’m just getting to know everyone on the tour, I’m sure that’s why he decided to come along. It’s not like he’s going out and partying every night.
Sierra: Right
Me: I need to call Mom, she left several messages last night, but I completely passed out as soon as I showered last night.
Sierra: I’ll check in tomorrow
I send her a heart emoji and pull up my mom’s contact to FaceTime her. Her beautiful face fills the screen after two rings. She pushes her glasses up onto her head and beams at me through the phone. Grams pushes her way into the frame just as Mom says hello.
“Saw those photos of you on the internet. Way to move on from Greg,” Grams says.
“We were never together, so I’m not moving on from him.” I walk over to the window and pull open the curtains. “Want to see Toronto?”
I have to change the subject from him. No one who cares about me wants to see me with Greg. That’s a bit of a red flag, I’ll admit, but no one knows him like I do. He’s prickly and sophisticated. Two things that my family isn’t.
After they finish looking at the skyline, I flip the camera back to me. “How are my plants doing?”
“They’re all alive,” Mom says.
“For the time being at least,” Grams adds. “When are you coming back? We miss you.”
“The break is in six weeks.”
“Are you getting along with everyone?”
“I am. The band is nice, a lot more chill than I expected.”
“Well that Stone boy being sober now probably has them all locked down.” Grams’s lips press into a line as her milky eyes gaze off.
My grandpa was wonderful but a functioning alcoholic.
His addiction made their lives immensely more challenging than it should have been.
Somehow between her and my mom, they hid it from me until we had to move in with them after my dad left.
Then that addiction took him far too soon, when I was only fifteen.
“It’s early days, but I haven’t seen anything concerning or anything. And their PR manager, Jade, is amazing. She’s been giving me a lot of helpful tips for my social media accounts.”
“That’s great, honey. How was the second signing?”
I fill them in on everything about last night.
Both of them seem a little worried about the paparazzi run-in, but knowing that security was there eased their minds.
Luckily Grams has an appointment to get to, so she can’t dig into the story about Stone helping me into the car, not that there’s a story per se.
I just know she wouldn’t stop until she got the answers she wanted, and I’m not sure I have them.
After hanging up with them, I think about something Mom mentioned, that I should go tell Stone thank you. I think in the chaos of the moment I forgot. I throw my hair up in a messy topknot and slip my feet into some sandals.
My room is just down the hall from his this time, and right as I get to the threshold of the double doors to his suite, one of them opens.
A stunning woman in leggings and a sports bra steps out.
Her long, platinum blonde hair is pulled into a slicked back ponytail.
She smiles at me as Stone appears behind her. He’s shirtless and sweating.
“I—” my eyes dart nervously between them as I realize I’m interrupting a morning goodbye. “I’m so sorry.”
I turn on my heel, my face red hot from the embarrassment of intruding when I feel his warm hand wrap around my bicep.
“Stop. It’s not a problem. Anya was just leaving.”
“See you tomorrow, Stone.” She stops in front of me, her perfect breasts covered by pale, unblemished skin. She could be a swimsuit model with her flawless body. “You’re more than welcome to join us tomorrow.”
What. The. Fuck.
Neither of us speaks until she rounds the corner to wait for the elevators.
I spin around. “I’m not having a threesome with you two.”
His eyes blow wide. If I hadn’t just been propositioned by the gorgeous blonde who just left his hotel suite, it’d probably even be funny to see him so at a loss for words.
“Uh, I’m not really Anya’s type to be fair.”
“Please, you’re everyone with a pulse’s type.” I roll my eyes and try to walk away, embarrassment still driving me to be defensive.
“Am I your type?” His voice drops an octave to a sexy rasp.
“No.” It’s not a lie because I’ve never met a rock star.
“Sure.” His lips tilt upward into a grin. “Anyway, you’re more Anya’s type than I am. She’s a lesbian. And my Pilates instructor.”
“Oh.” Relief floods my body.
Relief?
Why am I relieved?
Just because I didn’t actually interrupt a sexy, post fuck kiss goodbye.
“You were jealous.”
“I was not.”
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
“What?” Why is he even asking me that? “Not really.”
“Not really?”
“There is a man, but it’s more of a situationship than anything else. Why?”
“So that when I seduce you, I know there won’t be a mess waiting for me.”
“I was literally just coming to say thank you for helping me last night. There will be no seduction. Are you always so direct?”
“Yes, and you’re welcome. I don’t like when people around me have to deal with my bullshit, like the paps following us.”
“What if I did have a boyfriend?”
“I’d have to be ready for the mess then.”
He winks, and I’d never admit it, but my pussy clenches. It has to be a rock star aura or something because winking? Come the fuck on, how cheesy. But it’s not cheesy when he does it.
“You’d still pursue me?”
“Yes.” He steps back toward his room. “And I always get what I want.”
He disappears back into his suite with a smirk on his face, while I stand there in the hall like a deer in headlights. He can’t be serious, right? I mean. Why me? Is this some sort of a joke?
I’m not going to focus on his words. I have writing to do before tonight, and I need to find coffee. I let myself back into my room and grab my laptop, headphones, and purse. I can pretend this interaction never occurred.