Chapter 22 Lily
TWENTY-TWO
LILY
I’ve been rotting for the last few days—it’s very easy to do that on a tour bus. No one bothers me when the curtain to my bunk is closed because they all assume I’m sleeping.
I’m really just lying in bed, doomscrolling, internally panicking at all the gossip about me, which is spreading like wildfire.
I have fan pages. Fan pages!
The tremble in my fingers seems to be permanent as I repeat everything I’ve read and seen in my head, torturing my poor, overworked brain.
Elijah warned me I might become an interest to the public.
His advice was to shrug it off and don’t let anyone or anything in my head.
I have failed miserably so far. I’ve been obsessing over completely false information about myself, spouted by strangers who don’t even know my name.
Self-doubt is like mold rotting on my bones, spreading more and more each moment I breathe.
Does anyone believe anything these people are saying? One gossip magazine declared I’m a fan that leeched on to the band, only to get famous; another says I’m a groupie they decided to keep around; and others say I’m being passed back and forth between the two brothers.
That just makes my blood boil, but what makes my heart feel like it’s being stomped on are all the accounts created only to pick apart my appearance.
Ew, her hair is too frizzy.
As if I wasn’t shopping around in one-hundred-degree weather.
No amount of makeup could fix that.
She looks tired. Must have been a long night with both Leonidas and Elijah.
Is she trying to look effortless? Because if she is, she’s failing.
Why would the band choose someone so ugly when they have so many other options at their fingertips?
I think to myself, Why are some girls so into preaching about positivity but filled with so much hate?
They don’t even know my name, but they’ve already made up their mind about me.
How does that make sense? It doesn’t.
I was warned about this and just shrugged my shoulders. Maybe I didn’t want to believe the world would be this cruel, or I was oblivious, but this kills.
For the next couple of weeks, my goal is to never be caught off guard or to never be seen in general. That sounds perfect.
“Sleepyhead, wakey, wakey.”
Before I can protest, my curtain is pulled back, and Elijah’s handsome face is peering down at me.
“Hey, you’re already awake. Don’t tell me you were avoiding me.”
Sitting up as much as the bunk above me allows, I ask, “What if I was naked?”
He wiggles his eyebrows and smirks.
“Ugh, men.” I rub a hand down my face at the sudden brightness. “I wasn’t avoiding you. I just like the dark, okay?”
He sees through my lie. “You became a vampire, and you didn’t invite me? That’s really rude. I would’ve wanted to be there.”
He scoots me with his hands, and next thing I know, he’s lying beside me and taking up more than half of my bunk.
“Do you want to tell me what is actually going on? Because I smell bullshit.” He stares up at the bottom of his bunk.
When he laces his fingers on his stomach, his cologne wafts into my senses, making me see invisible hearts in the air around him.
“I’m waiting.” He drags out his words, turning his head to stare intensely at me.
I shake my head, looking away. “You’re going to think I’m childish.”
I feel the bed shift, and from the corner of my eye, I see him on his side, elbow bent, with his head resting in his hand.
“I could never. Stop thinking so poorly of me and have a little trust.”
Says the man who upped and left me with no explanation.
He sees the look in my eyes and winces. “Shit, my argument doesn’t seem so promising right now. Please trust me. We’re in the middle of God knows where. Who else do you have to talk to? The trees on our pit stops?”
I smirk the same way he is, and he looks worried.
“Thanks for the suggestion. I happen to love Mother Nature.”
Plopping back down on his back, he snorts. “I thought people got more mature with age.” He shakes his head like he’s in denial. “Guess that’s another lie I was told.”
It’s my turn to face him, and I punch his shoulder. He closes his eyes and huffs in pain.
“Says the goofiest guy who has ever walked this world.”
He stares at me. “You think I’m goofy?”
I shrug. “Yeah. Why? Is that a bad thing?”
Oh no. Did I say something wrong? Why does he suddenly look so serious?
Fast like a cat, he yanks me into him. Hard. Landing on top of his solid body, I feel every ripple of muscle. When he tightens his arms around my stiff body, the feeling of his hard abs on my tummy makes me squeak.
“That’s the best compliment anyone has ever said to me.”
With my head squashed between his biceps and neck—which smells like citrus and is so comforting—he starts rocking me back and forth in happiness.
I stay as still as a statue, not sure if he realizes the intimate position we are currently in, but my heart has flown out of my chest and into the clouds.
“Are you dead?” he says breathlessly.
I nod, feeling his chuckle on my cheek.
He starts drumming his fingers on my arms. “Do you think my sexy singing voice would wake you up from the dead?”
I lift my torso, balancing myself on my arms on his chest to see his face, and his mouth pops open.
“I would rather be dead.”
“You don’t mean that,” he whispers, lost in a trance.
When I lean closer to his face, my lips almost graze his.
“I do.” My whisper ignites a shiver down his body. “I’d rather hear your brother.”
Elijah’s head jerks back. “Take that back.”
I shake my head. “Nope.”
A bump on the road makes our bodies jerk and collide, and his eyes close like he’s in pain.
“Take it back,” he rasps.
“No—”
As best as he can, given the space, he flips us, hovering over my trembling body.
A gasp escapes my mouth when his forearms cage me on either side of my head, his hands in fists.
His breath fans my face, warm and intense.
His wavy hair, which looks like he just rolled out of bed, hides most of his face, and he looks dangerous.
Am I ovulating?
“Take it back.” He says each word slowly, taunting me.
Younger me would be fangirling right now, with her childhood crush looming over her, looking hot and bothered.
She would also be screaming at me to do something …
anything. Yet I’m stuck in pause, baffled at the current position we are in.
It’s not like I’m a virgin; I have been with guys, but no one has ever been remotely close to him.
His pupils dilate, and a sheen covers his lips when he licks them. A hardness pokes my lower stomach when the bus jolts from another bump. I gasp as my eyes widen when he groans.
Like it physically pains him to get off, he rolls and falls on his back. “I hate you. I forgot how annoying you are.”
“Doesn’t seem like it.” I nod to the tent in his sweatpants.
A deep sigh leaves his plump lips.