12. Callie
12
CALLIE
The inside of Sav Loveless’s house is surprisingly understated.
Not at all what I expected for a spoiled rock star. Nothing looks overly lavish or dramatic. Nothing screams opulence or wealth. It’s homey. Comfortable. It makes me dislike her more because it’s exactly the way I’d want my own home to feel if I could ever afford to own a house.
The inside is a hive of activity. There are security guards moving about, lugging suitcases out a side door. Wade Hammond, the manager, is barking into a phone and scrolling on a tablet, and Sav and Mabel are nowhere to be found. Jonah, however, is digging through a refrigerator on the far side of the open-concept floor plan and my eyes lock on him. Something about seeing a rock star bent over with his head in a kitchen appliance helps to calm my nerves a little.
I didn’t pay much attention to Jonah when I was at Torren’s apartment, but if he knew who I was, he didn’t let it show. He was never on my radar before. It makes sense that I also wouldn’t be on his. For some reason, the threat of Jonah remembering me seems less daunting than Torren. Maybe it’s because it feels less likely. Or maybe it’s because, if Jonah remembers, the worst thing I’d be is embarrassed. Not humiliated and heartbroken.
Oddly enough, Jonah feels like safe, neutral territory, and my feet lead me to him without prompting. He’s closing the fridge when I step up beside him, and he turns to look at me. He nods but says nothing, then hands me a bottle of water before opening the fridge again and pulling out a new one.
“Thanks,” I say, then I uncap the bottle and take a drink without taking my eyes off him. He does the same.
He swallows, and my eyes fall to his Adam’s apple. The anatomical heart tattooed on his throat bobs with the motion, almost like it’s beating. I flick my eyes back to his to find him watching me. Without taking his eyes off mine, he brings the bottle back to his lips as if he knows what I was thinking. I drop my eyes back to his throat and he proceeds to take several more swallows of water. My eyebrows rise in appreciation. The heart definitely looks like it’s beating.
“Cool,” I say.
He doesn’t respond.
I find Jonah easier to look at than Torren, so I do it openly. I run my eyes over his face. I study his hair—long and bleached blond—and his build—toned and lean. I drop my gaze down his body, then back up, noting the faded jeans and vintage-looking band T-shirt.
He doesn’t move. He keeps his face blank but lets me look.
Briefly, I wonder if I’m being rude, but something tells me he doesn’t mind. I’m about to spend three months in very close quarters with Torren. I can only assume Jonah will be around constantly, and I need to know who he is to feel comfortable.
I’m ashamed to say I never paid much attention to Jonah before now. I don’t have his tattoos memorized the way I do Torren’s. I didn’t even know his eyes were such a striking blue until right now.
He’s got a small hoop in his eyebrow, a small hoop in his nose, and a watch on his wrist with a faded leather band, but the rest of his accessories are inked onto his skin. He’s similar to Torren in that way. No added frills because they’re basically walking canvases.
“Verdict?” he asks, raising his eyebrow. I purse my lips.
“Jury is still out.”
He nods. “Welcome to the band, Callie.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I say nothing. Then Hammond steps up next to me and breaks whatever silent stare off Jonah and I have fallen into.
“Miss James?—”
“Callie. ”
“Callie. If you wouldn’t mind, we’d like to get some shots of you and Torren outside.”
I narrow my eyes at Hammond. “Are these to leak to the press?”
“They are.”
I take a deep breath and glance at Jonah. He’s not looking at me anymore, suddenly engrossed in something on his phone. I don’t know why I thought he might save me from this task—it is my new job, after all, and I’m nothing if not a model employee.
“Okay,” I say with a nod. “Lead the way.”
I follow Hammond as he leads me back out the front door and into the circle driveway. Torren’s leaning on the rear of his car, his hands in his pockets and his focus on the ground. When he hears us coming, though, he looks up. He’s wearing his sunglasses, but I feel his attention on me, and my stomach flips. I can’t stop the scowl that follows. Goddamn stomach. Stupid nervous flips. Then Torren arches a brow, and I narrow my eyes.
“What?”
“You’re going to have to work on that expression every time you see me. No one’s going to believe we’re dating if you always look like you want to stab me in the throat.”
I roll my eyes, then force a smile. From the look on his face, he’s not impressed, so I try again. I bat my eyelashes and saunter up to him, smiling sweetly. He doesn’t move from where he’s leaning on the car, and he doesn’t take his hands out of his pockets. When I’ve reached him, I place my hands on his chest and look at my reflection in his mirrored sunglasses.
“How’s this, boss?”
He cocks his head slightly to the side. “Boss?”
“I’m employed by you, am I not? This is a professional relationship; therefore, you are my boss.”
“Hmm.”
He takes his hands out of his pockets and pushes his sunglasses to the top of his head, then pins me in place with his gaze. I was doing so well until he had to go and bust out those green eyes. They’re lethal.
I force a swallow as he bounces his eyes between mine. When he drops his attention to my lips, I wet them on impulse, and the small smirk he gives me makes my breath hitch. I can’t look away. I find myself curling my fingers into his shirt, pressing my palms more firmly into the fabric so I can soak up the warmth from his skin underneath. My heart is beating fast in my chest, but his feels so steady. So calm.
He brings his hand to my face, brushing my hair behind my ear, and then his lips follow.
“That’s better.” My eyes fall shut as his breath tickles the shell of my ear. “That’s so much better, Calla Lily.”
I release a shuddering breath as he drags his knuckles over my jaw and then tilts my chin up so he can press a soft kiss to my neck. I stifle a whimper, but I can’t hide the way my body shivers. Suddenly, I find myself imagining glitter and music. I smell smoke and paint. I feel four years younger and just as na?ve. When he presses another kiss below my ear, the whimper I swallowed moments earlier returns with bolstered determination, and I can’t fight it.
“That’s it. You do it just like that, and we’ll have everyone fooled.”
I snap my eyes open, reality crashing over me like a tidal wave. It was a show. It was all a show, and fuck me, but my heart sinks. I stiffen, and then I hear a sigh. When I look toward the sound, I find Hammond staring at his phone.
“We got a few good ones, until you lost it,” he grumbles. “Let’s get one with a kiss, and then we’ll be done.”
My eyes widen and jump back to Torren. He must be just as against the idea as I am because he shakes his head and addresses Hammond without looking away from me.
“No kiss.”
“An almost kiss, then.”
Torren raises his eyebrows, nonverbally asking for my consent, so I shrug. He nods. “We can do an almost kiss.”
“Make it believable, please,” Hammond says, and I shoot him a glare.
“I’m not an actress, and I’m not an escort. If how I’m doing it isn’t good enough for you, go find one of those.”
Hammond blinks at me like he’s waiting out a tantrum. I realize that’s probably how I look when Glory is in one of her moods, and that pisses me off. Hammond says nothing—he just blinks and waits—so I roll my eyes and turn back to Torren.
“Fine. Let’s just get it over with. ”
He nods curtly. “Close your eyes. It might be easier for you.”
I obey immediately. It is easier, and I’m grateful he suggested it. Anything to not have to look into those green orbs of sorcery again.
“I’m going to put my hand around your neck, okay?”
I nod, and soon his warm hand is cupped lightly on the side of my neck, his calloused fingers teasing the hairline at my nape.
“Can you put your hands on my chest like you had them before?”
I do as he asks, but I don’t curl my fingers into his shirt again. My hands hover more than anything else, but he doesn’t say anything to correct me. I take a deep breath through my nose and immediately regret it. Leather and tobacco and ginger. Why does he have to smell so good?
“Can you tilt your head to the left for me?” I do as he asks, and I feel his thumb lightly caress my jaw. “Good. Can you part your lips for me just a little? Yeah, just like that. Now I’m going to lean in really close, okay?”
“Okay,” I whisper, and then he’s invading my space.
He closes the distance, shading me from the sun and grazing his nose against mine. I feel his mouth centimeters from my mouth. His breath tickles my lips as he inhales and exhales. His thumb once again rubs over my jaw, and chill bumps rise on my arms.
His proximity is unnerving. I don’t know if I want to close the small distance between us and press my lips to his, or if I want to take three giant steps backward and then bolt away, but luckily, he makes the decision for me.
Too soon, he leans back, exposing my face to the sun and giving me space to breathe once more. I open my eyes and blink a few times, avoiding Torren’s face, and then the person watching us from the front stoop grabs my attention. Sav Loveless.
She’s standing with her arms crossed and her head tilted slightly to the side as she surveys me. She doesn’t have to take off her sunglasses for me to know she’s sizing me up. It makes me feel small. It makes me jealous, too. I can’t help but feel like she’s pissed that I’ve had this moment with Torren. She knows it’s fake. She knows it’s for her benefit. But still...
The way she’s staring at me...
Were the rumors about their relationship just rumors ?
I narrow my eyes at her, a silent, subtle warning, and then I look back at Hammond. I bypass Torren entirely.
“How was that?” I ask Hammond, my voice cracking a little.
Hammond is quiet for a moment as he studies his phone, and then he nods once.
“It will work. Time to go.”
Hammond turns on his heel and disappears down the driveway. When I glance back at the front porch, Sav is gone, so I face Torren once more.
“Now what?”
“Now we go on tour. We’ll hold hands. I’ll walk you to Sav and Mabel’s bus. We’ll do a lovey goodbye for the cameras—don’t worry, no kissing—and then we’ll part ways.”
I nod twice, repeating over and over in my head that this is a job. This band employed me. I agreed to do this for my family, and I need to succeed. I stick my hand out toward him and wiggle my fingers.
“C’mon. Let’s?—”
“Just get this over with?”
I give him a ghost of a smile. “Yep.”
Torren laces his fingers through mine and leads me down the driveway.
“Your suitcase has already been brought to the bus, along with some other things. The big bedroom is set up for you, too. You should be all set until we get to Glendale, where we move into our hotel suites. We’re in Glendale for four nights, and then?—”
“You’re in Vegas for four nights. Then Arlington, Texas, then Houston.”
“You memorized the tour schedule?”
“Of course. I’m here for three months. You expected me to go into this totally blind?”
He huffs out a small laugh, and I see him shake his head in my periphery. “I don’t know what I expected, honestly.”
“I do. Someone who can fake it well enough for the cameras.”
I feel him shrug. “Yeah. I guess that was part of it.”
I roll my eyes. That was all of it, but he won’t say it out loud and offend me. To him, I’m a means to an end. This is a business agreement. This is a job. Nothing more .
I’m basically an independent contractor.
I frown to myself.
I’m basically a high-end escort but without the sex.
I want to groan, but I bite my tongue. I signed up for this. It might be a gigantic hit to my self-respect, but it’s for a good cause. Eighty thousand good causes, technically.
The bout of self-loathing doesn’t last, thankfully. When I see the mob of paparazzi across the street from Sav’s gate, all thoughts of everything else are forgotten. I squeeze Torren’s hand on instinct, and he squeezes back, then releases my hand and moves his to the small of my back.
“I got you, Callie. Just keep your head down and I’ll guide you. You don’t have to look at them or talk to them, okay?”
“Kay.”
“Put your arm around my waist. It looks more natural.”
I do as he says. I wrap my arm around his waist and keep my eyes on the ground. I trust him to lead me to the tour bus, and he does. Once we’re there, he spins me slowly and backs me up against the side of the bus, then props his forearm above my head. He leans into my space once more, the closeness no easier to handle than earlier. God, I hope this gets easier.
“I’m going to make it look like I’m saying goodbye to my girlfriend,” he whispers, reaching up to trail his knuckle over my jaw. “Loosen up. Put your hands on me. You need to look like you’re in love with me.”
“I’m not a miracle worker,” I grumble, but reluctantly, I place my hands on his waist and try not to think about the abs I know he’s hiding under his shirt. He smiles.
“Good.” He hooks his index finger under my chin and lifts my face up so I’m looking into his eyes. “Tilt your head to the left, and I’m going to move in to kiss your cheek. Don’t flinch.”
I frown in his direction but once more do as he says. This time, I hold my breath when he closes in on me. His soft, full lips land on my cheekbone softly, and then they linger. He nuzzles me, then kisses me again. When my heart starts to race and I can’t hold my breath any longer, I clear my throat.
“That’s enough,” I say, and I feel his lips stretch across my skin into a small smile. When he finally releases me, though, the smile is gone.
“I’ll see you in a few hours, Calla Lily. ”
I sigh. “It’s Callie.”
He takes two steps backward, then gives me a sexy wink that once again initiates vertigo-inducing déjà vu. It’s for the cameras , I remind myself. It’s all for show.
“See you in a few hours, Callie . I’ll be waiting for you.”