Chapter 19
Ari
I’m lying in bed, trying to stop thinking about Erica and the way it felt to have her body in my arms. I shouldn’t be thinking about how my body responded to carrying her to her room, waiting for her to change in the bathroom—knowing she was naked right on the other side of the door—and then tucking her in when she was ready for bed, kissing her on the temple and bidding her good night before I left.
I don’t know when I fell asleep last night, but the sun is already sliding through my window and across my face. Shit. I fully intended to wake up early enough to bring breakfast to Erica’s room so we could eat together this morning.
Scrambling out of bed and into clean clothes, I move around the room in a blur. I want to get to her to show her that that kiss wasn’t enough for me. I want more. I want her. I’m ready to kick this thing off, even if it’s not the way I planned. She seems to be the thing bringing down all my plans.
When I finally make it to her room, I lightly knock on the door and wait patiently for her to answer.
After a few seconds of nothing, I start to turn away, thinking I missed her when she opens the door, peeking through the crack.
“Ari?” she says, her voice cracking from what looks to be its first use of the day.
“Sorry, did I wake you?”
“Mhmm, but it’s okay . . . I didn’t mean to sleep that long.” She runs her hand over her face and tries to get all the sleep from her eyes.
Shuffling my feet, I push through the nerves that I’ve only ever had around her and ask her if she wants to get something to eat with me.
Actually, my exact words are, “Would you want to have coffee . . . or breakfast . . . or I guess brunch or lunch . . . or something with me.” It took a considerable effort not to bang my head on the wall after that, but her sleepy giggle of an answer was worth making a fool of myself.
Is this a mate thing? I have played sold-out concerts and stadiums all over the world, not having felt the nerves of it since that first year. But with her eyes on me and that body within my sight, I come apart. Words stop making sense, my mind turns to mush, and all there is, is her.
I’m leaning against the wall opposite her door, waiting for her to get ready to go.
She offered to let me into her room, but if I was in there with her while she was getting dressed, there is no way I would have survived it.
We would never make it out of that hotel room.
She seemed to be thinking similarly because she almost looked disappointed when I politely declined.
When will the sight of her stop knocking the air from my lungs?
She walked out of her room wearing ripped up cargo pants, combat boots, and a black lace tank over a black bra. The unloc’d part of her hair is in two little messy bobbles on the top of her head, and she left her locs hanging down her back.
She approaches me, smiling, and gently lifts my chin, shutting my mouth where my jaw must have been hanging open. As I recover, I take her hand, pull her into me, and kiss her hard, right here in a hotel hallway. I couldn’t wait another second.
She meets my fervor without delay. When I pull away, she moans softly and I remember the part where we’re in a very public place.
Not that I don’t want people to see her, I just don’t want her to be immediately overwhelmed with the rockstar life more than she already is from being with us.
The last thing she needs is her face in a shitty social media post or news article.
“Let’s go.” I say, her hand still in mine as we make our way to spend the day together.