Chapter 6
six
. . .
Dillon
Tonight’s show surpassed all of Dillon’s expectations. He was flying high because Blind Fury left behind a legacy that would live on for decades. Whenever anyone talked about farewell performances, Blind Fury’s exit was sure to make the top of the list.
The interaction with Lizzy on stage was everything Dillon hoped for.
The only problem is that now Lizzy was quiet.
Too quiet. She’d showered and wore a simple tank top paired with black jeans and ankle boots and minimal makeup.
Her appearance was as subdued as her demeanor.
She sat in the corner seat of the limo and stared through the window up at the night sky.
He didn’t know how to read her silence. She was always boisterous and loud and the first one to express her thoughts, whether you wanted to hear them or not.
This introspective side of Lizzy was different.
Quiet time and reflection were traits that he never witnessed before.
He thought he knew her so well, but there were so many parts of herself that she never shared.
He assumed the sparks that were igniting between them on stage would carry over to the limo ride, but Lizzy didn’t even notice he was in the car. This was his last chance. In the morning, they would be boarding a plane and probably go their separate ways for good.
He slid an inch closer to her. “You saved the show tonight.”
She turned toward him like she just realized he was there. “Me?”
“Yeah.” He slid a tiny bit further in her direction. “You were awesome, Lizzy. I knew you would kick ass, but I never expected you to slay that shit the way you did.”
She laughed, and some of her old rowdiness returned. “You mean, you thought I was going to suck!”
He’d heard her singing through the walls of her hotel room many times, so he knew she was gifted. So had Sid, which is probably why he never let her near the mic. Jealous bastard.
“I wasn’t afraid you would suck, but I didn’t think you would embrace the stage like that,” he told her. “You sang like you’ve been doing it your whole life.”
“I have,” she said, defensively. “But I haven’t had the opportunity to do it for Blind Fury before.” She sat back and then suddenly burst into a fit of laughter. “Did you see Zach punch Sid in the face? Man, I hope somebody backstage recorded it and it ends up on social media!”
Dillon laughed along with her because Sid deserved a punch in the nose a long time ago. “Are we terrible for laughing at him?”
“No. I should have punched him for all the shit he gave me over the years.”
Sid had often been out of line with Lizzy.
Zach wasn’t much better. Dillon had come to her defense in the early days, but it had pissed her off.
She had said that she didn’t need anyone to fight her battles, and she was right.
She had a sharp tongue and could take on both Sid and Zach without pausing for a breath or blinking an eye.
She was a tough chick. “I don’t know how the hell you put up with them. ”
She pursed her lips to the side and shook her head. “Neither do I sometimes, but what choice did I have? I couldn’t walk away from the band.”
Dillon slid closer to her, and she glanced down at the narrowed space between them. “Do you want to get a drink or something to eat when we get back to the hotel?” he asked.
Lizzy sat back, and her dark eyes caught a glint of the light from the passing traffic. She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “If you’re looking for a hookup, forget it.”
“Just a drink.” He held his hands up to proclaim his innocence, but he knew she didn’t buy it.
She accepted anyway. “One drink. I don’t want a repeat of last night.”
The bartender poured two glasses of Jack and Coke and placed them on cardboard coasters atop the mahogany bar.
Security stood on either side of Dillon and Lizzy, sandwiching them together like bookends, while several more bodyguards stood behind them.
A large group of fans were trying to enter the hotel bar, but additional security at the entrance turned them away and told them to come back later.
Dillon held up his glass. “To the future. Whatever it brings, I hope you’re in it.”
Lizzy clinked her glass against his and paused with it against her lips. She was hiding a smile behind the cocktail. “What are you going to do when you get back home, Dillon?”
“Home? For me, home has been on the road bouncing from city to city for as long as I remember.” The thought of staying in one place for more than a few weeks sounded monotonous.
He was used to traveling and living out of a suitcase.
Each day brought a new city with a new adventure and new people to meet.
It was going to be a big adjustment to be back home for more than a few weeks at a time.
“I have a couple of prospects lined up.”
“Please don’t tell me you’re going to take a job as a judge on one of those talent competition shows.”
“Hell, no. I need to play and perform. I love being on tour.”
She swirled the ice around in her glass and took a long sip. “Not me. I want to be home for more than a few weeks at a clip. I bought this huge mansion five years ago and haven’t spent more than a couple of months there. I haven’t even finished decorating the place.”
“Why didn’t you hire an interior decorator?”
She looked at him as if he were crazy. “Because it’s my place. I want to be the one to decorate it.”
“Lizzy Stone, homemaker. Who would have ever guessed?” He began to like the idea. Settling down in one place could be advantageous, as long as there was someone to settle down with.
She leaned her elbow on the bar and swiveled her stool to face him. “Why are you gazing at me with those puppy dog eyes?”
He could never hide his emotions. They were written all over his face like lyrics on paper. There was no use trying to hide his smile or his intention, so he slid off his barstool and took a step closer to her.
She drew in a deep breath, and her eyes grew wide.
“I want us to be together,” he said in a soft whisper. “It’s a new world now. We can be in it together without the pressure and ridicule of other people.”
Slowly, she let out the breath she’d been holding and momentarily closed her eyes. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. We’ve been through too many hard times. We have too much baggage. Too much history. It’s better if we just leave the bullshit behind and move forward with our lives.”
“That’s exactly what I want to do—move forward with our lives. Together. We finally have a chance, Lizzy. I knew that it would never have worked before. There was too much hostility all around us. Too much pressure. We only got sucked into it because everyone was at odds with one another.”
Her raised brows challenged him. “Really? You think the only reason we fought was because everyone else was fighting?”
He gave her a crooked smile because they did bicker ridiculously, and there had been some major fallouts between them over the years, but they got through it. There was never any real hostility between them. “For the most part, yeah. It was all bullshit, Lizzy. You know that.”
“Dillon . . . it’s not a good idea.”
He felt the hesitation behind her words, and he couldn’t blame her for being leery.
They didn’t need any more bad press and speculation about why the band really broke up.
Rumors had been circulating for months, citing everything from an alleged band member’s terminal illness to a mental breakdown.
The simple truth was too ordinary. The paparazzi wanted something to sensationalize.
She stared down at her glass and then took a big gulp, swallowing half its contents. “Look around. We can’t even have a drink in public together without being flanked by bodyguards. Is that how you want to live?With all our personal business on the front page of every gossip rag?”
He turned toward the entrance to the bar, now totally blocked off by security, and saw that the small number of people already in the bar when they arrived were relegated to other areas, so they had a wide birth of privacy.
There was a small army of fans and paparazzi waiting outside.
One drink together, the first time anyone had seen two members of Blind Fury socializing on a personal level in years, alerted every pair of eyes in the immediate vicinity. “We gave up privacy a long time ago.”
Lizzy downed the rest of her Jack and Coke and pushed her glass across the bar. “There’s your one drink.”
She turned to leave, but he stopped her. She stared down at his hand wrapped around her upper arm, her eyes slowly looked up and met his, and he saw her weaken. Her full, red lips were slightly parted, and she let out a small sigh. “Don’t,” she whispered. “Let’s just get out of here.”
He reluctantly let go of her arm. It was rare that Lizzy didn’t hide behind the wall that shielded her emotions, but, for a brief moment, he saw the vulnerability in her eyes when she looked at him.
Just as fast as her softer side made an appearance, it vanished, and she beckoned to the security guards that accompanied them at the bar. “I hope you brought your riot gear, because there’s a herd of people in the lobby.”
Extra security stepped in, and the entourage shrouded them toward the elevator in a tight bubble. Walter always booked the entire hotel floor for the band and had security stationed in the hallway 24/7, so they were safe once on the elevator.
Noise from the goodbye party taking place in one of the rooms flooded the hallway as soon as they reached their floor. It came from Walter’s suite. Dillon motioned toward the loud music and chatter. “Do you want to stop in for one more round?”
She gave him a wry smile. “You don’ t give up.”
He smiled back. “I just want to see if Zach and Sid showed up, or if they took the first flight out of here.” He nudged her with his elbow. “Come on. Do you really want to miss seeing Sid with two black eyes?”
“Zach was already booked on the first flight out, and you know Sid would never show up with a broken nose. He’s probably having his own private celebration with some professionals that Walter procured for him.” Her provocative smile returned. “I think you’re just trying to get me drunk again.”
“I can’t fool you for a minute,” he teased.
He wasn’t trying to get her drunk, but a little extra alcohol would let her relax.
She was always so wound up. He wanted her to know that she could be herself around him and not on edge.
She didn’t need to be Lizzy Stone, kick-ass heavy metal maven, all the time.
“You don’t have to walk me to my room, Dillon. I’m not going to get attacked by a crazed fan. Only VIP invitees made it up here for the party.”
The words weren’t out of her mouth for more than 30 seconds before the door to Walter’s suite opened, and a very drunk couple stumbled into the hallway. The two zig-zagged past Dillon and Lizzy toward the elevator, periodically bouncing off the walls.
“See?” Dillon pointed his thumb at the inebriated pair. “A stalker could have crashed the party and could be waiting in your room right now. I better check and make sure it’s all clear. ”
He got her to laugh, and she handed him her room key. “Go ahead. Play the hero.”
He slid the card across the screen and walked inside first, making a show to eyeball the surrounding living area and kitchenette.
He spotted a bottle of champagne on ice and a gift basket full of sweets sitting on the credenza against the wall and headed toward it.
He’d ordered the champagne earlier and instructed it to be delivered to Lizzy’s room, but not the gift basket.
“You had this all planned,” he teased. “The champagne. The snacks. You had every intention of inviting me back to your room again.”
“I never invited you into my room last night.” She snatched the little card off the gift basket and studied it. “It’s from Walter. You probably have one just like it in your room.” She looked at the bottle on ice. “I know Walter didn’t send this. Are you responsible for the champagne?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She saw through his ploy and shook her head slightly, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Thank you for making sure no one was lurking in my room,” she said, dismissively. “Good night.”
“It’s all clear out here.” He motioned to the open area of the suite. “But I should probably check the bedroom before I go.”
She rolled her eyes. “I think you’re just not used to having to work so hard for attention.”
“You’re a hard nut to crack, Lizzy.”
“Good night, Dillon.” She guided him toward the door with one hand on his arm and one hand on his back .
He stopped in the open doorway and turned back to look at her.
Her face was blank and unreadable, but her eyes said everything he wanted to hear.
They were blazing at him, inviting him to stay, but she was fighting it.
“Stop listening to what your stubborn head is telling you and listen to your heart for once.”
She blinked, surprised at his statement but didn’t reply, so he continued.
“You can trust me.” He wanted to kiss her, but if he moved too fast, before she was ready, he’d blow it and probably never get another chance.
She needed to make the next move, which would decide their fate.
Good or bad, it needed to be her decision.
As he gazed at her, waiting for what would happen next, her cheeks turned a pale shade of pink, and her breath grew heavier.
And that was the sign he was waiting for.