Chapter Five #2
“Are you offering privacy?”
“I’m offering lunch, water, and ninety minutes before wardrobe call.”
“That’s nearly romantic.”
“You’re eating before you perform.”
His smile softened. “I know.”
The crew reset around us as I escorted him from the platform.
Rafi waited in the corridor. “The suite and immediate route remain clear. Isabel still doesn’t have the final check-in sheet.”
“Has anyone left the media section without an escort?”
“No.”
“Any credential problem?”
“Nothing reported.”
Melanie Keene remained a likely threat with potential access. We still didn’t know whether she was inside the venue.
Shane followed me into the artist suite.
The room had a lighted mirror, a padded chair, a narrow sofa, garment racks, and a long dressing counter beneath the mirror. A private bathroom opened near the rear wall. Sealed catering containers covered a small table beside water, electrolyte drinks, fruit, grilled chicken, rice, and wraps.
His performance clothes waited on the rack under clear garment covers.
I made another pass through the bathroom and closet while Shane washed his hands.
“You watched three agents search this room,” he said.
“I’m supporting their excellent work.”
“You’re checking it again.”
“I’m still responsible for the room.”
“Is that why you’ve become very interested in the closet?”
I closed the closet door. “Eat.”
He uncovered a chicken-and-rice bowl. “You’ve been quieter since the piano.”
“I’ve been working.”
“You were working when you informed an entire stage that I can’t count.”
“You couldn’t.”
“I was half a beat early.”
“That’s another way to describe counting wrong.”
Shane studied me while I opened a wrap.
I focused on the food.
By nightfall, every empty seat would hold someone waiting for him. After the concert, cars would take him to interviews, recording sessions, and whatever came next.
When this assignment ended, I would go back to the Beacon and the life I had built in Sunbreak Harbor.
I didn’t know whether he wanted a place in it or only one more night before he left.
Shane ate several bites before speaking again. “Are you planning to leave the second the assignment ends?”
My fingers stopped against the wrap.
“You have a show in a few hours.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“It’s the question you’ve chosen to ask while wearing rehearsal clothes and eating rice.”
“I’ve been told I’m good at timing.”
“You were told the opposite.”
He set down his fork.
“I’m asking now because you got quieter every time another piece of the show came onstage.”
I took a drink of water. “That’s a lot to pull from one rehearsal.”
“You weren’t worried about the music. You liked the music.”
“I said you were good yesterday.”
“You said it once and refused to repeat it. I’ve treasured the memory.”
I almost smiled.
Shane leaned back in the chair. “You’re doing that thing where you get practical because you don’t want to answer.”
“I’m always practical.”
“You can be practical and still tell me whether Friday ends tomorrow.”
A knock sounded at the door.
The relief agent waited outside.
My scheduled break had started.
I opened the door and gave the handoff with Shane beside me.
“The protected corridor and suite are clear. The media roster remains outstanding. Melanie Keene is the likely sender, but her active presence hasn’t been confirmed.
Shane stays in this room until wardrobe call unless Rafi or I clear movement.
The bathroom and closet have been checked. Catering and sealed drinks are inside.”
The agent nodded. “I have close contact and the corridor. Rafi is ten yards east at stage access.”
“Call me immediately if the roster comes in or any route changes.”
“I will.”
I removed my earpiece and secured it in its case. My radio and compact gear followed.
The agent stepped into the corridor. “I’ll hold outside the door.”
I locked it behind him.
The relief agent stood outside, and Rafi held stage access ten yards away. I had ninety minutes before I took the detail back.
Shane stood near the catering table and waited.
My heart beat too fast against my ribs.
SHANE CROSSED THE ROOM without hurrying.
“You didn’t answer me,” he said.
“I noticed.”
“Do you think this ends tomorrow?”
I folded my arms, then dropped them.
“I think we’ve known each other since Thursday.”
“We’ve covered a lot of ground.”
“You were nearly trapped in a restaurant, someone left photographs on your patio, and we had sex after I moved you into a cottage with one bed. That’s not a normal three days.”
“I’m not looking for normal.”
“You’re also a rockstar with another city waiting after this weekend.”
“None of that disappeared Friday night.”
“That’s part of my point.”
He waited.
I moved toward the dressing counter and rested my fingers against its edge.
“You have a public life built around movement,” I said. “You tour. You record. People photograph where you eat and who leaves your hotel. You’ve had plenty of casual relationships, and you’ve never pretended otherwise.”
“I haven’t.”
“I work at SBS. I live here. My schedule is built around assignments, training, and being able to reach the Beacon when SBS needs me.”
“You called Sloane at seven this morning because your work matters to you.”
I turned toward him. “That wasn’t the point of the call.”
“It was part of what I heard.”
My grip loosened against the counter.
Shane stopped a few feet away.
“I know you want me,” I said. “I don’t doubt that.”
“Good.”
“You want a lot of things intensely.”
His mouth flattened, but he didn’t interrupt.
“I don’t know whether you want me after the threat is gone, the concert is over, and I’m not the woman standing between you and every door.”
He rubbed one hand over the back of his neck.
“That’s fair.”
I stared at him.
“You expected me to argue,” he said.
“I expected charm.”
“I can do charm after we finish the difficult part.”
“You’ve had casual relationships.”
“Yes, I have. A lot of them.”
He didn’t soften it or tell me the tabloids had invented his history.
“I liked casual,” he continued. “It was easy. We knew what we wanted, nobody asked for more, and I could leave before either of us had to rearrange anything.”
“That’s honest.”
“It isn’t flattering.”
“I didn’t ask you to flatter yourself.”
“I’m trying something new.”
I rubbed the bare skin at my wrist where the earpiece cord usually rested.
Shane moved closer.
“I haven’t asked another woman what happens after the weekend in a long time,” he said. “Maybe ever.”
“That doesn’t mean you’ll like the answer.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
He stopped within reach but didn’t touch me.
“What makes this different?” I asked.
“You know what I did at that party, and you didn’t use it to excuse me or punish me.
You watched me work and cared whether I was any good.
You protect me without making me feel helpless, and you tell me why a rule matters instead of expecting me to shut up and obey.
” He paused. “You’ve never asked me for access, a favor, or anything I could buy. ”
My chest tightened.
“That was a lot of honesty for one room.”
“I’ve been thinking about it since the beach.”
“You didn’t know we were having this conversation.”
“I hoped we were.”
He lifted his hand but kept it between us.
“I’m not asking you to promise me forever after two days,” he said. “I’m asking you not to decide for me that I’ll disappear.”
“What are you asking for?”
“A real conversation after the concert. No earpieces, no stalker, no show starting in three hours. Then I want a chance to come back and prove I meant it.”
“You don’t know what your schedule looks like.”
“I know it doesn’t control every day of my life unless I let it.”
“And distance?”
“We talk about it. We make plans. We see whether I can show up when there isn’t a crisis making the decision for me.”
I met his eyes.
“I’m afraid I’ll be the weekend that made you feel alive again,” I said. “Then you’ll go back to your real life, and I’ll become the woman you remember whenever someone gives you a security briefing.”
Shane’s hand lowered.
His face lost every trace of humor.
“Cassi, this is my real life.”
He stepped nearer.
“I want the stage tonight,” he said. “I want the music after it. I want you too. I’m not asking you to fit into the way I used to live. I’m asking you to let me find out what happens when I make room.”
My eyes burned.
I blinked before the feeling could become anything more dramatic than Florida humidity in an air-conditioned room.
“You still have to perform tonight,” I said.
“I know.”
“You still have a likely stalker somewhere outside this room.”
“I know that too.”
“And I’m going back on duty when the break ends.”
“I’m counting on it.”
His mouth curved slightly.
“Do you want me now?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Do you want me to kiss you?”
“Yes.”
Shane slid one hand into my hair and kissed me.
He didn’t wait for me to close the final inch. His mouth covered mine with a confidence that stole the breath I’d meant to take.
I gripped his upper arms.
He backed me toward the dressing counter while his tongue moved against mine. The mirror lights warmed one side of my face. His hands found my waist, then tightened when I pulled his lower lip between my teeth.
“Still yes?” he asked against my mouth.
“Yes. Keep kissing me.”
He did.
The edge of the counter pressed against my lower back. Shane crowded between my thighs without trapping me. His erection hardened beneath the light-gray fabric of his trousers.
I reached for the hem of his sleeveless top.
“Take this off.”
He pulled it over his head and dropped it onto the chair.
Sweat still gleamed lightly across his chest from rehearsal. His gold chain rested against his skin.
I ran both palms over his chest and down his abdomen.
Shane caught my chin and kissed me again.
“I’ve been thinking about what you did to me Friday,” he said.
“You’ll need to be more specific.”
His laugh broke when I opened his trousers.
“I was trying to compliment you.”
“You can finish after I do.”
I pushed the fabric over his hips.
His cock sprang free, already hard.
Shane’s breath shortened.
I knelt in front of him.
“Cassi, are you sure?”