Chapter 15
15
“You want to do what?” Bryce asks, confusion evident in his tone.
“I want to record myself doing some mundane tasks and maybe some audios where I’m talking,”
“Is this for social media?”
“No.”
“Is it for some press thing?”
“No,” I grit. I thought I was the nosy brother but Bryce is giving me a run for my money. I haven’t been able to the ASMR incident earlier this week out of my head. I hate the idea that Ellie is turning to a stranger for comfort. I hate the idea that she needs comfort at all, but especially the turning to a stranger part.
If she’s on tour with us, we should be the ones comforting her. That’s the lie I told myself when I asked Bryce to help. He has all the gadgets and software I need to record audios for Ellie to listen to. So far, I have a handful of ideas.
“You’re not recording something for Only Fans are you?”
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter. “No. I want to record some ASMR videos for a friend. Can you drop the third degree?”
“Is that friend a leggy blonde who you can’t help but stare at every time you’re in the same room?”
Shit. Do I stare at her? I know I look at her, but I wouldn’t have classified it as staring. When my jaw tenses Bryce’s face lifts into a shit eating grin. Not dignifying his question with a response, I ask, “Are you going to help me or not?”
“I’ll help. Don’t get your panties in a wad.”
“You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?”
“A pain in the ass you can’t do this without.”
Damn it. He’s right. I could record them as voice notes on my phone but the quality will be much higher and more AMSR-y with his equipment.
Bryce helps me set up in my dressing room a few hours before soundcheck. Once I finish recording, he is going to edit out any interruptions and convert the files before putting them in a cloud folder I can send Ellie.
After recording a couple of sleep aids, I get the idea to record something to help with anxiety. Ellie seems to live in a constant state of stress and pressure. Whether it's from her parents or self-inflicted, I’d love for her to be able to bask in her accomplishments and positive traits without the need to do more.
She has no idea how impressive she is. I am constantly in awe of her. She may not think she has her life together, but I am low-key intimidated by all her plans and lists. As a go with the flow kind of guy, Ellie is my exact opposite. She thinks everything through before making a decision. I do most things off the cuff.
Her sharp wit always has me on my toes. She’s beyond beautiful and sweet as hell. Ellie is the total package, and I have no idea how she doesn’t see that. It’s a wonder no one has snapped her up. I guess I have her father to thank for making her skeptical of men. Lainey’s let it slip through the years about what an ass he is. I wouldn’t call him a sleaze ball, but he tends to take on clients that lean that direction. I can see why Ellie enjoys listening to emotionally mature, considerate men.
Whatever guy ends up with her is one lucky bastard. Not that anyone deserves her. I sure as hell don’t, but that hasn’t stopped me from wanting her. I swallow down the lump that forms in my throat at the prospect of anyone else being with Ellie. Aside from the few almost-kisses we’ve shared, nothing has happened between us and it needs to stay that way. But that doesn’t mean I have to like the idea of anyone else getting to kiss her or hold her or soothe her.
Ever since we danced together, I haven’t been able to get the idea out of my head. Every day without her, my need grows tenfold. With Lainey gone, it’s been even harder to hold back. Lainey is the reason I am making these recordings. If it wasn’t for her, I’d be demanding Ellie get her comfort straight from the source: me. But I have yet to figure out how to pursue Ellie without hurting Lainey or jeopardizing their friendship.
Even though I am naturally a yapper, I decide to drink an extra cup of tea after recording audios this morning. Unfortunately, I almost choke on that tea when Ellie stops by soundcheck in the tiniest neon biker shorts I’ve ever seen. She paired them with a tour shirt cut up the sides. Seeing my name across her body does something for me on a primal level.
Wiping tea from my mouth, I glance around to see if anyone noticed my jaw hitting the floor. No one is looking my way, but Declan is smirking to himself. I don’t know if it is from me or something he conjured up in his own mind.
While there are no eyes on me, there are plenty on Ellie. Half the men in the room are shooting her lecherous glances. Glaring at those I can, I call her name across the room to draw her to me.
Somewhat cautiously, she walks over the edge of the raised platform where I can tuning my guitar. “Can I help you with something?”
“Still mad at me, Wildflower?” I coo. She narrows her eyes at me but her cheeks pinken. I guess she is still embarrassed. I hate that she feels that way, but it is also adorable to see her shy. She’s so strong and badass most of the time that seeing her out of her element lights me up. I don’t want her upset though.
“What if I told you I had a way to make it up to you?” She purses her lips fully intrigued and waits for me to continue. “I have a present for you in my dressing room.”
“Last night you had a fake spider. What is it today? Snake hiding in your pocket?” At her words, she sucks her lips into her mouth as her gaze drops to my legs where there is most certainly a snake waiting for her. God she’s cute when she blushes. I want to trace the color all the way down her body. It’d be like a rainbow with the pot of gold at the end except the gold is—not something I need to think about right now surrounded by our entire band and sound crew.
“If this is another prank, I’m going to be pissed,” she replies. “I will call Lainey to help exact revenge.”
“No need to call in the big guns, you’ll like it, I promise.”
“Tell me what it is.”
“Nope.”
She pouts at my answer and that expression on her face combined with the way she peers up at me from the stage below makes my knees weak. Which is ironic because all the blood in my body is heading south. Ellie is gorgeous from every angle but sinful from this one. Thank God my guitar is here to hide my boner. I think the only thing more embarrassing than getting a hard-on from a pair of shorts and a little attention would be anyone else knowing about it.
Reaching for my tea, I take a large gulp to combat the sudden dryness of my throat.
“Little early to start drinking,” she teases.
“No whiskey in this one.”
“Is that my present, because I have to say, it’s not my favorite taste.”
“What’s your favorite taste?”
“Voodoo chips,” she says, ‘duh’ implied in her tone. “What’s yours?”
Pride envelopes my chest knowing she’s going to love her present. That change of emotion is enough to regain a minuscule amount of my composure. Although thinking about my favorite taste doesn’t take me too far out of my current headspace. I’m pretty sure even without trying it that my favorite taste is her.
She must catch the direction my thoughts are in because she turns even redder than before. So Goddamn cute.
“Go enjoy your treat, Wildflower.”
With a dubious expression and single nod, she heads that direction, waving to everyone on her way out. Glancing up, I catch Bryce’s eye. I flip of his smug face before slyly readjusting my dick behind my guitar.