Chapter 15
Chapter fifteen
My bags are packed, and the hotel room is empty.
Tomorrow I fly back to San Diego, and then the second wave of the tour begins.
Outside, I toss my luggage in the back of the minivan next to the brand-new security system.
Before I close the hatch, I put my band hoodie over the top.
I don’t want her to see what’s back here—or anyone else—especially while the car is parked.
Since I’m hoping she’ll let me sleep over, I can install the system easily.
The best part is going to be checking on her anytime I want.
This will make being away from her easier, since I need to know she’s safe at all times.
The rest of this tour is going to break me. I wish I could take her with me.
I make the turns like I’ve done it a thousand times, even though it’s only been a handful of practice drives. When I arrive at her house, I park right in front, then stroll up the front walk like I live here. I’m dripping with confidence as I sit down on the front bench and text her:
Me: Come out and play, little muse.
A few minutes later, someone who is not Vivienne—but I instantly recognize as the girl she was with the night of the concert—throws the door open, pokes her head outside and scolds, “You might be a rockstar, Cas Wilder, but you’ll behave like a gentleman and come to the door if you want to date my bestie. ”
She slams the door closed. I pull myself off the bench and trudge like a sad little puppy dog to the front door, where I knock twice. This time her friend answers, smiling.
“Hi, Cas—“ She waves. “Come on in.”
Great, I’m dealing with a psychopath best friend. It’s not the first time. I smile at her. “Thanks, where’s Vivienne?”
“Oh she’ll be along. She’s just finishing up. Why don’t you take a seat and the two of us can chat?” Her friend motions for me to sit in the living room.
I really like her house. It’s totally her in a way I can’t really describe.
It just feels like somewhere she would live.
I glance around, mentally mapping everything I can see and filing it away with the floor plans I already memorized.
I’ve definitely scoped out a few different camera placements.
No blind spots. The friend clears her throat.
“So what time are you bringing our girl home, and where are you going?” she demands.
I can’t help it. I laugh. “What’s with the third degree? Don’t you trust me?”
She crosses her arms and glares at me. “I absolutely do not trust you with my best friend’s heart, Cas Wilder. You better be good to her or I’ll tell the entire fan Discord channel. That’s right, I’m on the inside.”
I throw my hands up in defeat. “I promise. I won’t hurt her.”
“Good, that’s what I want to hear.” She sticks her hand out to shake mine, and I take it. She grips my hand firmly, leans in, and says, “I’m Roxy. Her dad died a little over a year ago, so I’m filling in. I’m glad we had such a nice chat. You two have fun tonight. But not too much fun.”
I nod my head. I think I have a new level of respect for Roxy. That takes balls—to infiltrate my fan club and then blackmail me with it. I’m pretty sure she’s trying to intimidate me too. Not that I’d ever risk hurting Vivienne.
“Vi,” she hollers down the hall, all the while side-eyeing me, “we’re done with our chat. You can come out now.”
I stand up, putting on my best gentleman act—not because I was told, but Roxy’s right.
Vivienne deserves my best. When she comes around the corner, I can’t help the giant grin that creeps across my face.
I was planning to give her the smolder, but she looks hot in an effortless, sexy way.
An oversized bleach-washed black tee hangs off one shoulder, exposing a splash of sun-kissed skin.
She must be putting that pool to good use because she’s tan compared to the last time I saw her.
I can’t wait to trace her tan lines with my tongue.
I’m just about to tell her when I remember Roxy’s still here.
Fuck it. Let Roxy hear.
I take a step toward her, my eyes roaming over the long, never-ending legs that greet me until they find the hem of her skin-tight black shorts. “Hey,” I say, reaching for Vivienne, pulling her into my arms.
She lands against me with a soft thud but doesn’t push away.
The addictive smell of her perfume sends me over the edge with need.
Her body melts against mine as if she wants this just as much as I do.
Her hands land against my chest, and fuck if I don’t wish Roxy was gone.
It feels so good to hold her. I’ve been thinking about this moment since I landed.
“Hi,” she whispers, a little shyly, and it’s fucking irresistible.
“I’m going to enjoy tracing your tan lines later,” I whisper back.
“Good,” she answers with an adorable giggle.
I need to get a grip because she just leaned right against my crotch, and now I’m seconds away from fully moving in on her. I could just say fuck it—again—Roxy can watch.
Right on cue, she clears her throat. Vivienne jumps out of my arms, and I take a step back. “Um we should get going. We have reservations.”
“Where are you going?” Roxy asks protectively, pinning me in place.
“It’s embarrassing. I’m not telling you,” I reply.
“Well, now I need to know what could possibly be so embarrassing about dinner with my bestie.”
Vivienne rolls her eyes but turns on me, taking Roxy’s side. This isn’t going to end well for me. It’s two against one, and I don’t stand a chance. “I’m also curious.” She smirks.
“Fine,” I sigh, annoyed. “My manager’s assistant messed up everything. He rented a stupid minivan, made dinner reservations at BananaBees, and bought us movie tickets for later tonight.”
“Oh my god!” they both squeal.
“Chicken penne is the best!” Roxy shouts.
“I know!” Vivienne squeals.
“I’m totally ordering this for dinner now,” Roxy replies with a laugh.
“Twinsies,” Vivienne says.
Then Roxy asks, “So why is everything messed up?”
“A minivan. Do I look like I drive a minivan? You know what, never mind, don’t answer that. I also had to fly…on a normal airplane instead of the record label’s jet.” Before I can finish, Roxy interrupts me.
“Oh, poor baby. The rockstar had to fly with the peasants. Everyone feel bad he wasn’t on his private jet.” She tosses her hair over her shoulder.
Vivienne watches to see my response.
“I’ll have you know I was trapped in the middle seat, and that’s not even the worst part. There were these people three rows up who spent the flight taking hundreds of photos of me.” I expect them to admit defeat but instead I’m met with more snickers.
At this point, I’m totally taking credit for BananaBees—I guess Arty was right. Women will never understand what it’s like to get between a man and a fast car.
“Fine, I see how it is. Laugh it up. Since you aren’t worried about being seen with Cas Wilder in a minivan, let’s go.” I gesture to the door.
“Bye, Roxy. Lock up for me please,” she calls over her shoulder as she grabs my hand and drags me out the door behind her.
“Nice wheels,” she teases, pointing to the van. “Cas Wilder, I need to know—what’s your favorite safety feature?”
“Cas Wilder doesn’t do safety.” I laugh, right before I scoop her over my shoulder and jog off to the van. “I’m kidnapping you, by the way. You’re going to be stuck with me for the rest of the day.”
Vivienne laughs and squeals. “Cas Wilder, you better put me down right now. I don’t need to be kidnapped. I’ll go willingly.”
“Now that’s what I like to hear,” I growl, setting her down so I can press her against the passenger-side door.
When I lift my hand to bring her face to meet mine, I find her already waiting. Lips parted, with desire burning in her eyes. I kiss her once, lightly—our lips barely brush together before I pull away—leaving her dazed.
She reaches for the door, but I push her hand away. “I’ll always open the door for you, my passenger princess.”
Vivienne rolls her eyes, allowing me to open the door for her, then climbs inside.
I stroll around the van, waving at Roxy.
She’s on the front porch watching us. She points to her eyes, then at me.
I nod, and she drags her finger across her throat, then hangs it to the side with her tongue out.
That’s comforting—I think I’m terrified of her in a good way.
At least I know when Vivienne is with her, she’s safe.
BananaBees isn’t far from her place. There’s a mall and movie theater ten minutes away, which both makes our drive short and keeps us on time for the reservations. Not that I’m actually worried about reservations. I’m more worried about being spotted or disturbed by people who recognize me.
“How has your trip been, honestly?” she asks, tracing her finger over my arm muscles.
“It’s not a big deal,” I answer, avoiding the question.
“Why did you come?” She pulls her hand back, uncomfortably.
I reach for her hand, parting her fingers with mine. She doesn’t resist, but she’s still not looking at me. It’s so hard to get past her walls of protection. If a glimpse of vulnerability is what it’ll take, then I suppose I can give her something real. “I came back to see you.”
There she is, like a magnet drawn back to me. I suppose it’s hard for her to understand why someone like me might take an interest in someone like her, but I’ve been fucking obsessed since the moment we met.
We’re at a stoplight. I pull her hand over, bringing it to my lips then turn my signature smolder on—the one the cameras love. “Don’t doubt my intentions, little muse. They’re nothing but sincere.”
She smiles. “We’ll see.”
“I guess we will, darling. I love a challenge.”
She bites her bottom lip, trying to turn away before I see. Fuck! This is exactly why I’m so damn obsessed with her.
I pull into a parking spot and shut the car off. “Don’t even think about it.”
She laughs. “Am I allowed to unbuckle myself, or are you in charge of that too?”