Chapter 11
Eleven
HAZEL
A fruit plate sits untouched beside me as my fingers fly over the keyboard.
The cool, dark hotel room provides the perfect backdrop for the story taking shape in my mind.
I’ve managed to get a couple thousand words written for the first few chapters.
My back aches as I slide my laptop to the side and stand up to grab a bottle of water from the mini fridge.
A feather light tapping sounds from my door. I freeze, trying to figure out if I just heard someone at my door. It’s just the band and security on this floor, so I feel more comfortable investigating than I normally would.
Right as I get to the door, I hear the knocking again. I look through the peephole and see a sexy as hell rock star standing on the other side. Stone has a pair of glasses on and his guitar hanging from his shoulders.
I swipe my tongue over my teeth, praying I don’t have any poppy seeds from salad dressing stuck in them before unlatching the locks and opening the door.
“It’s not my birthday,” I say as I swing the door open and step aside.
He tilts his head and narrows his eyes a fraction. “What?”
I gesture to the guitar. “You’re at my door like one of those people who gets paid to sing a song as a message.”
He chuckles and strums a few bars of Happy Birthday. “When is your birthday?”
“March third.” I close the door as he walks past me. “What are you doing here?”
“My babysitter passed out. Thought I’d come see if you were still up and working.” He glances at the notebooks, fruit, and laptop on my bed. “And I see you are.”
“Decided to come body double?”
“Do you mind?”
“Nope. I just finished writing, but I have a few character sketches and location notes to hammer out.” I sit back down on the bed and situate myself. “Make yourself at home.”
He walks over to the couch and pulls a small notebook and stub of a pencil out of his pocket, dropping them on the cushion beside him. “It won’t bother you if I play?”
“Nope.” I’m already creating the first character sketch, his presence pushed to the back of my mind.
I lose myself to the voice of my characters as I delve deep into their psyches, picking apart their motives and lies they tell themselves. Sierra even suggested adding sexual preferences and kinks to their sketches.
I have pages of notes written when Stone sets his guitar to the side and plops down at the foot of my bed.
“Make yourself at home,” I say wryly.
“I will.” He reaches over and plucks a few grapes from the fruit plate. “What are you working on?”
“Character sketches.”
“Like drawings?” He arches a brow.
“No. Just in-depth notes about each character.” I flip my computer around, so he can see the paragraphs of text.
He leans forward, his stunningly blue eyes scanning the words quickly. “Pegging?” His lips lift in a slow grin.
My cheeks heat. “I’m just considering it.”
“Is it something you like to do?”
“No,” I laugh nervously. “Do I look like the type to do that?”
His eyes rake over me, from my face down over my chest and along the exposed skin of my outstretched legs. “I’d let you.”
My body floods with heat. I realize he’s just being a flirt, but my pussy clenches regardless. I give myself one moment to imagine it. Stone on his hands and knees for me as he lets me fuck him. Just the mental image alone makes my pulse race.
“I—” I clear my throat. “Is that something you do?”
“Not specifically, but I have bottomed before.” He lies back, resting his head on his palms. The position pulls his shirt up, exposing the muscle and inked skin of his abs. A sexy smattering of dark hair trails beneath his shorts.
By the time I pull my attention away and look up at his face, I find him watching me. He pulls one of his hands out from under his head and grabs my foot. A mischievous smile playing upon his lips.
“What are you doing?”
“Giving you a foot massage.” His fingers press into my arch, and I groan at how good it feels. My shoulders relax back into the pillows at my back. His hands are so strong as they knead the bottom of my foot.
“I should tell you to stop, but it feels too good.” I close my laptop and set it aside.
“Why would you want me to stop when it’s so good you’re melting into the pillows?”
“It can’t be good for your hands. Shouldn’t you rest them or something?”
“It’s fine. My hands have been working overtime the past few days.”
My eyes fly open and meet his. Tension thickens the air until he bursts out laughing. The sound is so full and rich. My stomach flips in the same way it does on a roller coaster. I’m so fucked because all I want is to hear it on repeat for the rest of my life.
He sits up and grabs my other foot. I moan shamelessly when he finds the spot that aches and presses his thumb hard against it.
“This foot rub is better than sex.”
“Nothing is better than sex.” He applies the perfect amount of pressure to the same spot again. “Although hearing you moan like that is a close second.”
My toes curl when he picks up my first foot and finds the same spot, giving it just as much attention. “Do you want one in return?”
Mischief glints in his eyes once more. “I have a better idea.” He grabs a foot in each hand and slowly pulls them toward his crotch.
I pull my feet back as we both start laughing. His eyes crinkle in the corners as his chest shakes with laughter. It feels so good to laugh and be silly with someone. I can’t believe who it’s with, but it just feels so natural. Like we’ve been doing this for years.
We’re both quiet as we catch our breaths. A silence as easy as the laughter settles between us until I yawn. He stands up from the bed and walks over to his guitar. He grabs it by the neck and slips his notebook into his pocket.
“We should probably both get some sleep,” he says as he walks toward the door.
I stand up and follow him. “Especially you.”
“Come to my room for Pilates in the morning.” He opens the door but doesn’t go through it.
“What time?”
“Ten.”
“If I’m not writing, I’ll be there.”
He smiles, and my brain has left the building.
Then he does something so shocking I would never have been prepared for it.
He wraps his arms around me and pulls me to him, holding me in a hug that goes on just a little bit too long.
I don’t break the hold until he does, feeling somehow that he needs this even more than I do.
“Lock the door, little Archer. I want to hear the deadbolt turn before I walk away.”
“Yes, sir,” I reply with a little more sass than necessary. I yelp when he pinches my waist and then laugh. “Good night, Stone.”
“Sweet dreams, Hazel.”
I peek out the peephole and find him looking at the door, waiting just like he said he would be. Without taking my eyes off him, I reach over and flip the deadbolt locked. I watch him smile to himself and walk away.
What the hell happened tonight? I drift asleep attempting to convince myself that everything was just friendly. That I didn’t feel the heat between us multiple times. Because there’s no way he’s flirting with me.
The scent of amber and sin hits before I hear him.
“You missed Pilates,” Stone’s voice comes from over my shoulder as I scroll through my text exchange with Greg earlier.
I turn, surprised at how close he is to me. “I slept late.”
He looks down at me, eyes not dimmed a bit by the baseball cap pulled low over his face. “Guess you’ll have to make it up to me.”
“How so?” I slip my phone into my pocket.
“Watch the concert from backstage.”
“No.”
“Why?” He glowers at me.
“I have my reasons.” Mainly that I would rather die than have them all see me cry for the first twenty minutes of their concert.
“Give me one.”
“I don’t want to be a distraction.”
“What if you’re more of a muse than a distraction?”
I laugh. “A muse for who?”
“Me.”
“You’re such a shameless flirt.”
That comment brings a wicked smile to his face. “It’s one of my better qualities.”
The rest of the band, followed by Darren and Jade, come through the revolving door just as the SUVs pull up to get us.
Stone grabs my hand, linking our fingers, and pulls me toward the third vehicle.
Adam takes the front seat, and Dan takes the third row with the two of us in the middle two bucket seats.
“Do you know why she won’t watch the concert from the stage?” Stone asks Dan.
He looks back and forth between Stone and me. “I’m pretty sure I do.”
“Why?” Stone asks.
“I think it’s best if she tells you.” He pulls his earpiece out of his pocket and busies himself getting set up.
“You don’t like our music?” Stone guesses.
“What? Of course I do.”
“Then why?”
“You’re not going to let it go are you?”
“Nope.”
“I’m worried it’ll be too loud and overwhelming for me up there.”
He narrows his eyes. “I can get you ear plugs.”
“I don’t want to be in the way.”
“You won’t be.”
The door beside Stone flies open, and Tobias climbs in, effectively ending the conversation. Thank fuck because I’m running out of excuses. It takes him a minute to get settled into the third row because of his long limbs.
“I can switch with you if you want.”
“No, I’m fine.” He buckles his seat belt. “I’d ride in a clown car before I sit and listen to Xander and Jade argue about the same bullshit over and over again.”
Stone groans in solidarity. “They just need to fuck and get it over with.”
My brows lift. “What are they fighting about?”
“The list of what they aren’t fighting about would be shorter.” He taps his fingers on his thigh restlessly and stares out the window.
I take that as an indication that the conversation is over.
Tobias is rough around the edges, but one thing I have picked up on about him is his loyalty.
He’s cold and aloof, but he would go to the floor for the people he cares about.
As someone on the outside of that circle, I have to appreciate it.
To have such a tight knit group of friends is a gift. It’s something I’ve always wanted. I have my mom and grandma, and now I have Sierra, but most of my life has been spent focused on working and achieving.
I don’t need my therapist to point out that my focus on achievements over relationships is likely due to my lack of a relationship with my father.
Discovering his affair and telling my mother was the final nail in the coffin for me.
As a kid I always thought that maybe he’d come back, maybe he’d want me, if I got good enough grades, if I followed all the rules. But he never did.
Knowing I’ll be in the same city as him and my younger half siblings for the first time in years brings a mix of emotions. That same part of me that hoped being a high achiever would make me worthy of his attention, plants seeds of hope for the possibility of a reunion. Maybe just a conversation.
By the time we pull up to the venue, I’m ready to push all thoughts of my father to the back of my mind.
Luckily for me, the shows that Blue Sunday put on are always spectacular.
As soon as they start playing, I know I’ll be transported to a different dimension where the only thing that matters is the music.
I’ll cease to exist on an individual level as I’m absorbed into the energy of the crowd.