17. Stone
Ihad to blow off Isaac after practice. He was telling me all about the Saturday night party tomorrow, like he expected me not to have plans. Which, in all fairness, would have been correct in the past. But tomorrow was different. Tomorrow I had plans.
Emerson and I were going to make our relationship public.
After our impromptu walk through downtown Nashville, where I almost did the stupidest thing and kissed her, I spent the rest of the week avoiding her. Sure, I smiled at her when we met on the landing on our way out the door. And I had Hayden deliver an easter egg and a cornicello to her for the gigs she picked up. But that was all the interaction I had with Emerson.
I’d needed a break from her, or I feared what I would do once I had the green light to touch her. To kiss her. To show her what it felt like to be loved by a man.
And that desire was eating me alive.
I spent Friday night on the couch with Oscar in my lap, eating Chinese food and watching football. Emerson texted me at ten, reminding me to come over tomorrow around three to go over the game plan. She was acting like I was going to forget. If she only knew.
I passed out in my bed after I sent her a thumbs-up emoji, but as the sun started peeking through Gran’s drapes, all I could do was toss and turn until I finally got out of bed and went for a run.
I finished with a thirty-minute jump rope session on the landing. I must have been making some noise, because at minute fifteen, Emerson peeked out of her door. Her gaze landed on me, and she shook her head as she disappeared back into her apartment.
By the time I showered and dressed in a white t-shirt and dark jeans, Hayden had sent me a text to say she’d secured the pig charm and was sending it to Night Spirits.
I’d talked to Troy earlier this week to see if he could squeeze Emerson in tonight. He was hesitant but had agreed. After eating lunch and lounging around on my couch, trying to read a book, it was finally three. I grabbed my wallet and keys and pulled open my door. I crossed the landing and knocked.
Seconds ticked by before the door opened. Emerson stood there in a satin robe. Her hair was pulled up into curlers, and her eyes were wide as she stared at me. I had to use all my self-control to keep my gaze trained on her face and not the way her body looked in the satin material.
“Wow, you’re right on time,” she said as she leaned back to glance into the kitchen.
I shrugged. “When you’re always running by network time, you learn to be punctual.”
She glanced over at me and nodded before stepping back so I could come in. “Well, I am on musician time, so I’m always running behind.
“Noted.” I waited as she shut the door and then turned to face me.
“Well, I’m going to go finish getting ready. You can make yourself at home.” She waved toward the living room.
“Great,” I said as I stepped further inside.
She passed by me, and my gaze drifted down her back. Her hips were swishing, and her bottom…
“Stone?”
“Yep,” I said as I ripped my gaze away from her body. My entire body felt as if it were going to catch on fire, but I hoped she didn’t notice. I prayed she didn’t notice.
“I wrote out some rules.” She pointed toward the coffee table, where a piece of paper sat.
“Rules?” I asked, frowning.
“Yes.” She leaned forward. “You know, for the fake dating.”
“Ah.”
“Yeah, so if you could go over them, that would be great.” She smiled, but it felt forced. “So that we are both on the same page and know what to expect from the other person.”
I studied the piece of paper from where I was standing, trying to determine if I really wanted to go over there and read it. By the time I turned to talk to Emerson again, she’d left.
Now alone, I sucked in my breath and closed the space between me and that blasted piece of paper. Might as well get it over with. I dropped down onto the couch and leaned forward to pick up the paper.
The first rule stuck out like a sore thumb.
Rule #1: No kissing
Ha. Fat chance. There was no way the public would believe that we were dating when we didn’t kiss.
Rule number two was just as insane: No touching.
“They won’t believe us,” I called back toward Emerson’s room.
“What?”
“They won’t—” I cut off. There was no point trying to shout at her from across the apartment, so I stood and made my way into the bedroom. Emerson was sitting at the vanity in her bathroom, her gaze snapping to mine in the mirror.
She looked beautiful, sitting there with the lights all around her. The desire to tell her that rushed through me, but I hadn’t gotten through all the rules. I was certain that if kissing and touching were at the top of the list, compliments had to be further down.
I leaned one shoulder against the doorframe as I held up her list of rules. “The public won’t believe that we are in love if we’re not all over each other.” I cocked an eyebrow just so she knew that I was serious.
Her cheeks flushed, and I inwardly smiled. I loved that I had this effect on her. It was vindicating since my insides always twisted into knots when she was around.
“I think they will be fine,” she said as she returned to rubbing a brush around on her face.
“It’s fine with me if you want to go through all of this work only to not have the public buy it. But if no one buys it, no one will be talking about it. Which means no scout will see you, and no contract will be signed.” I shrugged as I turned my attention to the list. “After all, normal couples call each other pet names. If you don’t want to be a normal couple…”
I could feel Emerson’s stare on me, but I didn’t look up. This whole fake-relationship thing was more for her benefit than for mine. Sure, if she did get discovered, we had the potential to pack the stadium with fans interested in our relationship. An NFL player and a singer would make for great content. It was well known that a player who packed the stadium got preferential treatment every time.
All of that hinged on if we could get people to believe that we were in love. If we stood next to each other like cousins, no one was going to believe our lie.
I watched as the uncertainty my words bred raged in Emerson’s gaze. I could tell that her first instinct was to say no. But she knew that I was right, and it was eating her alive.
“Are you worried that if you kiss me, you’ll like it?” I made sure my voice was innocent, even though I knew exactly what I was doing.
She sputtered and pulled her gaze away. “Yeah, right.” Her cheeks were flushed as she stared at herself in the mirror. Then she flicked her gaze up at me. “I’m worried that if you kiss me, you’ll never be satisfied with another woman again.” She glared at me like she was daring me to respond.
What she didn’t know was I already wanted to kiss her. Daring me to kiss her only made me want to do it more. I knew kissing her would change things for me. But I was already tortured every moment of every day by this girl. Adding a little more to the pot wasn’t going to make a difference.
I shrugged. “I doubt that.” I widened my smile. I may be miserable, but I was content with being alone in my misery. No need to have her suspect anything.
Emerson’s lips parted. I could see the fury in her gaze. It was taking every ounce of her control to not march over to me. I wanted to keep pushing her, but this wasn’t how I wanted our first kiss to go. I wanted her to want to kiss me. Not to feel goaded into doing it.
I sighed. “I think we should do what comes naturally. We’re both adults. We can handle a little kissing or hand holding.” I held up the paper. “I promise not to take advantage of it if you do the same.”
Her gaze drifted to the paper before landing back on me. She was chewing her bottom lip now, and it was taking all of my control to stand my ground and feign a platonic relationship with her.
“Okay,” she whispered.
“Okay?”
She nodded. “The rules stay but can be broken occasionally with purpose.” She swung her legs out from under the vanity and walked over to me with her hand extended. “Deal?”
I eyed her slender fingers and soft skin. I didn’t want to touch her. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I knew that as soon as I did, the memory would haunt me forever.
She looked expectant, so I slipped her hand into mine and gave it two exaggerated shakes up and down, before I dropped it and shoved my hands into my front pockets.
“I’m glad we got that out of the way.” Then she glanced around. “I’m gonna get dressed, so if you want to…” She nodded toward the door.
“Oh, yep,” I said as I turned and headed back out to the living room.
I tried to keep my mind blank as I sat on the couch. I didn’t need to think about kissing her or the fact that she was changing on the other side of the wall.
I forgot to breathe when she walked out of her room. She was wearing a brown off-the-shoulder dress that hugged all of her curves. She’d put a cropped denim vest over it. Her hair fell past her shoulders in soft waves. When I stood, her strappy heels made her only a few inches shorter than me. I wanted to tell her that she looked amazing, but I bit back the compliment. Instead, I just smiled at her, and when she moved to pick up her guitar, I beat her to it.
“I can carry it,” I said, hating that when she moved, I was surrounded by the smell of her perfume. It made my heart pound harder.
She glanced over at me, her entire body tensing from my proximity. I hated that she still reacted this way. I wanted her to feel comfortable around me. Why did she always act like being near me hurt her?
“Okay.” She straightened and then glanced at the clock on the wall. “Ooo, we’re going to be late,” she said as she crossed the room and slipped on her purse.
“Wanna ride on my motorcycle?” I asked as I followed her.
She gave me a pointed look. “I don’t think I can get on in this getup.” Her dress was tight against her legs and went down past her knees. “Plus, it’s not that far.”
We could make it work with my motorcycle, but with the way I was feeling, it was probably best for me to keep my hands to myself. I just nodded and walked out onto the landing when she opened the door. I waited for her to lock up before we started down the stairs.
We walked in silence for a few minutes as we made our way to the sidewalk. I glanced over at her, wanting to ask her so many questions, but knowing I wasn’t allowed to do so.
Finally, the silence felt like it was going to kill me, so I glanced over at her. “Are you nervous?”
She paused before meeting my gaze for a moment. “Kind of.”
“Do you normally get nervous?”
She nodded. “Every time. But, once I get onstage and I start playing, all my nerves fade away. I know I just need to get out there.”
I laughed, and she looked over at me with a confused expression. I raised my hand. “I’m not laughing at you,” I said quickly.
“Really? ’Cause it kind of feels that way.”
I shook my head. “It’s just that I can relate.” I sighed as I pushed my hand through my hair. “It’s the same for me. I always get so nervous before a game that I want to throw up. But as soon as I get onto the field and I feel the turf beneath my cleats and the roar of the crowd… My nerves fade away, and all that’s left is me and the ball.” When I glanced up at Emerson, her eyes were wide as she stared at me.
“It’s just me, my guitar, and the song,” she whispered.
“That’s all that matters.”
She smiled softly as she nodded. “It’s a sensation that most people don’t understand.”
“I agree.”
The awkward tension between us seemed to fade away. Even though we were walking in silence, the air felt clearer. There was a bond between us that hadn’t been there before.
And I loved it.
When we got to Night Spirits, Billy was standing outside. He nodded at me, and out of instinct, I placed my hand on Emerson’s lower back to allow her to go first. I felt her back muscles twitch under my hand. My first instinct was to pull back, fearing that I’d overstepped, but Emerson didn’t glance back at me as if to ask what I was doing. She didn’t skip a beat. She just walked ahead, nodding at Billy as she passed by.
“No hat today?” Billy asked. I glanced to the side. The crowd that was waiting to get in was starting to whisper.
Normally, I’d pull my cap further down on my face but not tonight. Tonight, I was Stone Walker supporting his girlfriend. I really hoped that this was going to work. I wanted the world for Emerson. She deserved to have all the luck she wanted.
“Not tonight,” I said as I clapped Billy on the shoulder, waved at the crowd, and then moved to open the door for Emerson.
She glanced at me when she passed by. “Ready for this?” she whispered.
I studied her before a smile spread across my lips. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Once inside, I let her lead me. Tilly joined us near the back door that Billy had snuck me out of last time I was here. I could hear the murmur of the crowd as I walked by. I quickened my pace and slipped Emerson’s hand into mine. It felt amazing to claim her as mine.
Emerson’s eyes widened as she glanced over at me, and I ignored her as I nodded toward a table of middle-aged women who were staring at us.
“Ladies,” I said as I pulled Emerson a bit closer to me.
“What are you doing?” Emerson hissed.
I released her hand and wrapped my arm around her shoulder. I leaned in close, my lips millimeters from her ear. “You’re supposed to be in love with me, remember?” The feel of her body and the smell of her shampoo had my senses going haywire. It was both pure bliss and torture at the same time.
Even though I knew at the end of this I was going to be left with a broken heart, I didn’t care. I was going to enjoy every moment with her until I wasn’t allowed to touch her anymore.
She pulled away from me once we got backstage. Tilly led us to the dressing room. She kept grinning at me and telling me that the performance had been perfect. I wanted to tell her that it wasn’t performative for me, but that would negate the fake-relationship deal, so I just smiled and nodded.
I sat down on the far chair and watched as Tilly and Emerson interacted. Tilly walked over to the vanity and picked up an envelope. I recognized Hayden’s handwriting, and I waited to see what they were going to say about it.
“Another lucky charm,” Tilly said as she ripped open the envelope and handed it to Emerson.
Emerson flicked her gaze over at me like she was unsure if she should open it before she turned her attention back to the envelope. “Oh, that’s so sweet,” she said as she pulled it open and peeked inside. “It’s a pig.” A smile spread across her lips.
“What is that?” I asked as I leaned forward, so I could get a better look at what Hayden had bought.
“Somebody is sending Emerson lucky charms,” Tilly said as she moved to unclasp Emerson’s guitar case and flipped it open. After she pulled out Emerson’s guitar, she waved toward the charms at the bottom. “I think the dream catcher is my favorite.” Tilly pulled it out and let it hang from her fingertips.
I stood and walked over to the case to glance inside. “You really don’t know who is sending these?” I asked as I picked up the easter egg and studied it.
“No,” Emerson said, taking the egg from me and setting it back in her case.
Her fingertips brushed my palm, sending shivers up my arm. I glanced up to see her studying me like she wanted to ask me a question. I wondered for a moment if she suspected that I was the one sending her charms. But I didn’t know Emerson to skirt around an issue. If she thought I was sending them, she would just ask me.
Instead, she dropped her gaze to the envelope and shook the pig out into her hand. After she pulled out the card, she read the note that Hayden had written. “The pig is a lucky charm in Germany. It signifies wealth and fertility.”
“Ooo,” Tilly said as she bumped Emerson with her shoulder. “Fertility.”
Emerson’s cheeks flushed as she shot Tilly an annoyed look. Then she tucked the card back into the envelope and set the pig down in her case. My heart swelled at the sight. It was as if she were carrying a piece of me everywhere she went, and I loved that.
Even if she didn’t know that I had sent them in the first place.
There was a soft knock on the dressing room door, and a woman with a clipboard told Emerson that she had five minutes to go. Emerson nodded, and I could tell her nerves were getting the better of her. She wasn’t making eye contact, and her hands were shaking. I wanted to pull her into my arms until she calmed down, but there was no one around. I couldn’t use our fake relationship as an excuse.
Instead, I just stood there, watching her.
Once it was time for her to go out onstage, she led Tilly and me out of the room. I followed behind the two of them as they waited on the side of the stage to be introduced.
Henry rattled off her name and then extended his hand in her direction as the signal for her to step onstage. She smiled as she turned to the crowd and waved.
She greeted the audience, got adjusted, and strummed a few chords.
I could see her nerves melt away as she started singing. It was mesmerizing to watch her as she closed her eyes and felt the music she was playing. I wasn’t really paying attention to the words because my mind was so clouded with how beautiful she looked that I couldn’t concentrate on anything else.
I don’t know how long I stood there in a trance, but the sound of Tilly clearing her throat startled me. I glanced down at her to see her smiling as she stared at Emerson.
“You’re good,” she said, not bothering to look up at me.
“Excuse me?”
She gave me a look that said, don’t play with me. I wanted to reject her hypothesis that there was anything real going on between Emerson and me, but what was the point? It would be a lie, and from the hint of teasing in her gaze, I could tell she would see right through it.
“Don’t tell Emerson,” I whispered.
She pretended to lock her lips. “Your secret is safe with me.” She rocked a few times on her feet. “Just make sure you don’t hurt her.”
I shook my head. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
She glanced over at me, holding my gaze as if she were sizing me up. Then she reached down and grabbed a dozen roses from her purse. “After her set, bring these onto the stage for her.”
I took the flowers. “Okay,” I said.
She studied me. “Make the crowd believe that you two are together.” Her voice had turned commanding, and I had half a mind to salute her.
Instead, I just smiled. “I can do this,” I assured her.
Emerson played the last few notes of her song, and the crowd erupted into cheers. I wasn’t sure if I should head out onto the stage or if she was going to play another song.
Thankfully, Tilly pushed at my back and demanded that I get going. I stepped out onto the stage. Emerson hadn’t noticed me as she thanked the crowd and turned to leave. When her gaze locked with mine, my heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears.
Thankfully, I had enough experience faking confidence that I smiled as I zeroed in on her. We met halfway. I pulled the flowers out from behind my back and handed them to her. Her eyes widened as she took them.
“What are you doing?” Emerson whispered, glancing up at me.
I slid my hand around her waist and tugged her to my chest. I cradled her cheek with my other hand and stared deep into her green eyes. The hushed whispers of the crowd faded into the background. All that existed was me and Emerson. I leaned closer, my gaze drifting to her lips.
If she didn’t want this, this was her time to pull away. Otherwise, I was going to claim her lips as mine.
“I’m kissing you,” I whispered.
I closed the space between us, my lips finding hers. The moment our lips touched, the dam inside of me broke. My hand slid from her cheek, and I tangled my fingers in her hair. I waited to see what she was going to do before I deepened the kiss.
For a moment, I wondered if I’d done something wrong. She wasn’t reacting, she was just standing there like a statue. I moved to pull back—there was no way I wanted to force her to kiss me if she didn’t want to—but the feeling of her arms around my chest told me that she didn’t want me to leave.
That was all I needed. I teased her lips with my tongue, and she let me in. I got lost in the feeling of her body against mine, my hand in her hair, and her lips on mine. We fell into a dance as our lips moved in sync.
The roar of the crowd around us finally broke through the fog that blanketed my thoughts whenever I was around Emerson. Realizing that this was supposed to be fake, I pulled away. I was the fool that got carried away. I was the fool that wanted this to be real.
Emerson was just along for the ride.
Her lips looked puffy and her gaze glassy as she stared up at me. I grinned down at her as I turned to face the crowd, slipping my arm around her waist and dipping down to whisper, “I think they bought it,” in her ear.
She studied me before she glanced to the crowd. The flash of camera lights pinged around us. When she looked back up at me, she nodded. “I think you’re right.”