17. Monroe
17
MONROE
C ash removes his finger from inside of me, pulling himself off of me smoothly. I’m still panting for air, every nerve ending in my body on fire. I feel like I’ll explode if he doesn’t get his ass back on top of me right fucking now. I clench my thighs together, trying to exhale slowly and catch my breath. It’s the first time I’ve felt so turned on by a man in years. I didn’t plan on hooking up with someone this quickly after ending things with Zade, but I’m not complaining about it. Our relationship was mostly for public appearances.
Whoever is at the door is struggling to open it. A string of curses goes through the air.
Oh no. It’s Danny.
Cash grabs my blanket from where it fell to the floor and gently tucks it around my entire body, avoiding eye contact with me. He moves to the door.
I can’t see him, but he calls through it, “Who is it?”
“It’s Danny. Open up.”
“She’s sleeping. Come back later. ”
“I need Fidel’s binder, asshole. Let me in. Key card is broken.”
Cash shuffles around the room before moving back to the door. I hear it open. They exchange the binder without speaking and the door shuts and he slides the second lock into place.
I sit up on the sofa, locking eyes with Cash. He’s still standing at the door, staring at me. His eyes are hyper-focused on my lips, a flash of anger crossing over his gaze. He looks down at his hand, at the finger that was just inside me. I hold my breath, willing him to walk back over to me and tear my clothes off. He clasps his fist tightly at his side.
He doesn’t come back to me. Instead, he turns into the adjoining room without a word or another look in my direction. My chest feels like it’s been cracked open, exposed to the elements of chronic loneliness that is this job and my life.
Now, he really is going to leave.
I collapse on the sofa, my cheeks suddenly wet with unexpected tears. He doesn’t want this life. He doesn’t want me. He just kissed me and left me here, wet and wanting. This has literally never happened to me before. I’ve never been rejected by a man, especially one who was hard for me only moments ago.
Who does he think he is? He can’t just up and decide that’s all he wants from me!
I jump up from the sofa, anger racing through my chest. I march back toward his room. The door is half open. I push through it, but the room is empty. The adjoining bathroom door is cracked, steam seeping out of it. I step closer, peering through to the opening, unable to stop myself. My heart pounds.
The shower is running. The mirror is beginning to fog, but I see him standing there, hands braced on the countertop. He’s shirtless, rippling muscles and tattoos covering his chest, the ink traveling down one arm. He’s staring down at the floor.
My jaw slacks open. I knew he was built because I could see his muscles under his clothes. But this is … his body is sexier than I ever imagined. His abs are defined, connecting to the V that dips down into his black Wranglers. A double R is branded on one of his massive shoulders, the jagged scar permanently marring him with his family’s ranch brand.
The slick arousal between my legs seeps out farther when I see him lift his finger to his lips, inhaling deeply before he sucks it into his mouth. His eyes drift shut, a sensual groan escaping his lips.
He’s tasting me …
I can’t breathe. My limbs won’t move. He’s not just tasting me; he’s savoring me. He sucks the finger completely dry, rolling his neck around before he reaches for his belt.
I want to keep watching—I really fucking do—but now, this feels too far, too personal. I’d be a Peeping Tom if I stayed here in his room when he doesn’t know I followed him in.
As difficult as it is, I spin around and silently slip out of his room. By the time I get to mine, I’m so turned on that I can hardly think.
He wants me too. Why is he denying himself?
I made the first move. I kissed him. I made it clear how into him I was, and he still rejected me. The professional relationship is shattered. I’ve never done that before either.
Cash Redford is making me break all my rules, and I’m still pathetically crushing on him.
“Get a grip! Ugh!”
I fall back onto my bed, covering my face with my hands.
He ignored me for the rest of our time in Australia. By the time we land in Paris a week later, I’m pissed off and beyond sick of wondering what Cash Redford is thinking or what he plans to do next.
I’m not this girl. I’ve never let a man occupy so much time in my head, distracting me from my world tour and the incredible, once-in-a-lifetime experience I’m getting. If he doesn’t want me, fine . I have plenty of options.
The European leg is what I’m most excited about. I’ve always dreamed of visiting places like Paris, London, and Switzerland. Now, I get to do it all while getting paid millions and singing for my fans. It’s a dream come true.
I pinch myself when I see the Eiffel Tower in the distance from the window of my suite. A gentle wave of sadness washes over me when a memory of my mother rushes in. When I was little and she still had big dreams for herself, she used to tell me stories about how we’d one day come here together and go shopping, eat pastries, and take pictures at all the cool places, like the Eiffel Tower and the Notre-Dame Cathedral. Now, I barely hear from her unless she wants something or I reach out first. When I was a child, living in a lonely small town, with a mother who grew more distant, the older I got, Paris felt like the one place I could see us being happy together again.
And I won’t let this stupid crush ruin it.
I set my jaw and turn from the window. I’m writing him off. If he wants to make what we did a one-and-done thing, so be it. I don’t need to talk it out. Closure is overrated. I didn’t need it with Clint or Zade.
One kiss with my bodyguard shouldn’t cause me so much distress. I will enjoy this time. I will also ignore his existence.
“Ah, we’re finally in the City of Love. We need to do some exploring before dinner.” Ember sighs as she hangs up some of my clothes in the closet.
I try not to scoff audibly, but it slips out.
Ember’s eyes widen. “Is everything okay?”
I really don’t feel like talking. If I say anything, I’ll probably start spewing profanity or crying about how I have a childish crush on someone who’s rejected me for an unknown reason.
“Nothing. You know what? You’re right. We should go explore the city. Let’s get dressed! Maybe we’ll meet some hot French men.”
Ember nods, a tentative smile on her lips. “Yeah, okay. Let me just tell the bodyguards.”
Panic rises in my chest. “We don’t need them. I’ll wear sunglasses and a hat.”
She chews the side of her cheek and lowers her voice. “What about the stalker? ”
I wave her off. “He hasn’t shown any sign he’s still chasing me. I’m suffocating with everyone being so overprotective. Also, we just got here! No one even knows we landed in Paris three days before the show.”
My insecurity from rejection is causing me to make reckless decisions, clearly.
Ember taps her foot for another minute, but she can’t actually tell me what to do. None of them can, even though one specific Texas native tries his hardest.
“Come on. I’ll change and then we can go.” I start stripping down from my travel outfit and don a pair of flowy tan pants, a white V-neck undershirt, and a long black trench coat.
“It’s raining still, but it’s not a total downpour,” Ember remarks, looking out the window as she runs a brush through her hair. “Are you sure we shouldn’t just get Brooks to come with us? He would keep his distance if we asked.”
“Ember, please. I just want to grab a croissant in a cute little café without someone telling us we can’t sit so close to the door. We’ll be gone for a couple of hours, tops. No one knows I’m here. It’s not like LA.”
The more I talk about it, the more determined I am to sneak away without a bodyguard. I just want to be a girl in Paris, exploring with my best friend and wishing I still had a mom who gave a shit.
“Ugh, okay, fine! We’re gonna have to sneak away. I think Danny is on shift. I’ll distract him while you go down to the lobby.”
I smile at her while slipping a black baseball cap over my curls. Even though she’s my personal assistant, Ember is a true friend.
After we’re both done getting ready, Danny is still in his room. She leans her ear up against his door and listens for a minute. I’m standing by the exterior door and holding my breath.
Finally, she rushes toward me. “Okay, he’s talking to his girlfriend about how he can’t wait to suck on her boobs, so I bet we have at least ten or twenty minutes until he finishes. Let’s go!”
Excitement sweeps through me. We poke our heads out the door, looking both ways down the hall before exiting. There are only a few other doors on this level, and I have no idea if my team is staying in them or if they’re on a lower level. Ember grabs my hand and pulls me over to the elevator. We exhale in unison when the doors open and it’s empty.
“If we get caught, I’m telling them you threatened to fire me if I told anyone you were leaving,” she whispers.
I giggle. “Deal. Do you have any money? I haven’t seen my wallet since we got here.”
She nods. “I got you. Put your sunglasses on.”
Ember has access to my entire life. She’s a life saver. I slide the thick black frames over my eyes just as the elevator doors open to the lobby. She loops her arm through mine as we walk under the crystal chandeliers and pass by the crimson velvet furniture. The doorman nods at us as we exit.
“Au revoir, mademoiselle . ” He tips his hat.
I squeal as soon as we’re out on the street. A steady rain falls as pedestrians stroll by. We’re staying in one of the historic districts, per my request. The ancient buildings around us make it feel like we just stepped onto a classic movie set. We flip our hoods over our heads.
“This way!” Ember turns and pulls me to the left.
“Do you know where we’re going?”
“Nope, but I feel like heading toward the Eiffel Tower is good luck!”
We start walking in the rain, elbows looped together and smiles plastered on our lips.