Wild Flame (The Wild: A Rock Star Romance Book 2)

by Micalea Smeltzer

  “It’ll be okay after I punch you in the nuts,” I groan, my stomach rolling again.

  I’ve never experienced motion sickness in my life—but apparently pregnancy has made me super sensitive, because the moment the train started moving it was game over.

  “You don’t mean that,” he says and there’s laughter in his voice.

  I whimper and throw up some more.

  He bends down beside me, rubbing my back. I want to swat him away, but his comfort actually feels nice, and if he’s going to be a part of things, he should see the nasty side as well.

  “I can’t believe I’m kneeling on this dirty floor,” I groan, shuddering at how disgusting it is.

  The funny thing is, a few months ago I wouldn’t have hesitated to drop to my knees in a public restroom and give him a blowjob. We even fucked in public a number of times.

  Yet, here we are now.

  Oh how the mighty have fallen.

  There’s a knock on the door and I yell, “Go away, it’s occupied.”

  “Two people are not allowed in the restroom,” a shrill voice says outside the door.

  Rush rolls his eyes and sighs, unlocking the door and sliding it open to reveal a short tiny man in a uniform.

  “My girlfriend is pregnant and sick,” Rush explains with slight irritation. “Nothing illicit is going on here. Take your freak-out elsewhere.”

  The man looks at me on the floor hugging the toilet and snaps, “Just keep it in the toilet, please.”

  Rush slides the door back closed and locks it. He squats down again in front of me, gently running his fingers through my hair. It’s so tender, and he looks at me with such softness.

  “Girlfriend, huh?”

  I have the skills to ruin any sweet moment.

  He chuckles softly. “What was I supposed to say? The girl I fucked regularly until I knocked her up? My baby mama? That all sounds so … wrong, like I don’t respect you.”

  I snort. “Rush, there’s nothing respectful about the things we’ve done.”

  He grins widely. “That’s true, but I still respected you. We just have the same taste in debauchery.”

  “And look where it has led us,” I sigh, feeling the nausea hit me again. “Oh.” I press a hand to my head as I feel a wave of dizziness hit me at the same time.

  Rush stands and grabs some paper towels from the dispenser, dampening them in the sink.

  There’s another knock on the door and Rush curses under his breath. “This fucking idiot again. What?” he yells the last part as he slides the door open.

  “Whoa.” Mia holds up her hands innocently. “I found some peppermints in my purse. I thought they might help.” Leaning around Rush to see me, she adds, “Do you need me?”

  I shake my head. “Rush has it covered.”

  Surprisingly, he does. Even if having him here with me as I puke up my guts was awkward at first, it’s not completely awful. Despite his partying, drinking, and sex marathon ways, Rush is the kind of person who wants to help. He has a good heart.

  “Okay. If you need me let me know.” Mia walks away and he closes the door once more.

  “Here,” he says, pressing the damp wad of paper towels to my forehead. “This should help.”

  He holds it there and I place my hand over his. It’s strong and warm beneath mine.

  Meeting his denim blue eyes, I ask, “Why are you helping me?”

  He lets out a gruff laugh. “I thought we’d established this already, Kira. It’s because I care.”

  “But why do you care?” I probe. I’m desperate to know. I need some reason, some logical explanation for this.

  He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “I like you. We’re alike in a lot of ways. I get you and you get me. I was content to let us run our course, but now…”

  “Now we’re in this forever,” I breathe out the words on a slow exhale.

  I know a baby doesn’t mean we have to get married or even be a couple, but it does bond us together for the rest of our lives. There’s no changing the parentage of our child. I’m the mother, and he’s the father.

  He cracks a grin. “If I was going to knock up anyone, I’m glad it was you.”

  I give a small laugh. “You’re so weird.”

  “I wish I felt like I was good enough for you,” he confesses on a whisper. He looks surprised, almost like he didn’t mean to say the words out loud.

  “I wish I felt like I was good enough for anyone,” I admit back to him.

  “We’re quite the mess, aren’t we?” He sits down on the floor, awkwardly since he’s still holding the towel to my forehead. I haven’t moved my hand off of his. I should, but I don’t want to.

  “I’d rather be a mess, than neat and orderly. That’s nothing but an illusion, everyone is a mess when it comes right down to it.” I pull his hand away from my forehead, letting the towel drop onto the floor, and I squeeze his hand tight in mine.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “I don’t know,” I answer honestly.

  My thoughts are jumbled and chaotic. There’s no possible way I can sort through them.

  I’ve always known what I wanted and didn’t want. Life was simple. It was predictable.

  Nothing about Rush has ever been predictable, now here we are.

  “Are you feeling better?”

  I nod. “A little. Give me one of those peppermints.”

  He hands one over and I pop it in my mouth, letting the taste of it seep onto my tongue. At first I’m afraid it’s going to make me sick, but as the flavor melts across my tongue I finally feel my stomach settle.

  “Think you’re ready to head back out?” he questions, leaning his back against the door.

  I shake my head. “Give me a few more minutes to make sure it has passed.”

  The last thing I want to do is leave the bathroom only to projectile vomit all over the train and passengers. I would never get over the trauma of it.

  Rush stands up and flushes the toilet free of my sickness and then washes his hands.

  “Do you ever think we’ll be brave enough to be honest with each other? About our pasts?” I blurt.

  The words tumble free of me, unstoppable. As soon as they’re out I wish I could bottle them back up like marbles escaping a glass. They sound too pushy, too desperate. But the fact is, I realize now with the baby there is no getting rid of Rush. He’s determined to be in our child’s life, I didn’t believe him, but he’s still here … and if he continues to stick around it seems necessary we be honest with each other.

  But I think we both have trouble with that pesky word; honesty.

  Lies are easier.

  If you ignore the truth for long enough, you can make yourself believe a lie.

  I think we’ve both been doing that for a long time, lying to ourselves and believing those lies.

  You know the ones.

  I’m okay.

  Nothing’s wrong.

  I’m going to make it through this.

  One more day.

  Everything’s fine.

  On and on the list goes. One lie after another, until your entire foundation is built on them.

  “I don’t know, Kira,” he answers on a breath, shoving his fingers through his hair, pushing the blond strands away from his eyes.

  “Me either. Help me up,” I plead, holding out my hand.

  He grabs it and helps me up. My feet bump into his boots and I fall into his chest.

  His arms wrap around me and he holds me close. I’m not sure he even knows he’s holding me like this.

  My fingers splay against his shirt and I tilt my head back, looking up at him.

  Time seems to stretch thin.

  “Hi,” I breathe.

  He cracks a small smile. “Hi.”

  Still, he doesn’t let me go.

  Being held like this by him feels good, almost too good. I wish I wasn’t this comfortable with him. It would be easier to push him away, to keep him at arm’s length, if I didn’t feel
so safe with him.

  “Let me go, Rush.” My words are a barely-there whisper.

  “I don’t want to.” His voice is as hushed as mine.

  “Why?”

  He lowers his head to mine, until we’re nose to nose. “Because I’m pretending.”

  “Pretending what?” My throat locks up. With fear? Anticipation? I’m not sure.

  “That I’m just a guy, a normal guy. One who’s nice, the boy-next-door type. That I don’t drink too much or do shit I shouldn’t. I’m pretending I’m someone worthy of the good in the world. Love and a family. For a minute, just let me feel like I’m not a complete and utter screw up.”

  “You’re not a screw up.”

  He smiles slightly. “That’s nice of you to say, but I am. I started down a path I don’t seem to know how to come back from. Drumming is the only thing that’s kept me sane for so long until…”

  “Until?” I prompt.

  “Until you,” he professes.

  “Me?”

  “You.”

  I don’t know what to make of his declaration. It both scares me and exhilarates me. I should pull away from him, put distance between us, but I’m caught in his stare and I’m helpless to move.

  Idly, I wonder if he can feel my heart threatening to beat out of my chest. I haven’t figured out yet if the strenuous beat is caused by his proximity or his words, or even whether it’s in lust or fear.

  Lately, I’m nothing but a wound bundle of nerves and emotions I can’t untangle.

  He presses a tender kiss to my forehead and my eyes close. It’s at odds to how we were. Any time we were together we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. We were a tangle of limbs, barely knowing where one began and the other ended.

  Now, here we are, standing calmly in one another’s arms. There’s no tearing at clothes, or smashing of lips. It’s just us, and the tender feel of his lips lingering against my forehead.

  I’ve run from this feeling my whole life—of safety, of comfort, because the people who were supposed to give me that only left me living in fear.

  All these years, I’ve done well in my practice of staying away from any chance of catching feelings. I’ve been smart about it.

  Now, this one man might be my complete undoing.

  “We should join the others now,” I say, desperation leeching into my tone, because I need space from him before I do something stupid.

  Like kiss him and mean it.

  He nods slowly, looking slightly disappointed. “Yeah, we should.”

  I step away from him and he opens the door. I follow him down the narrow aisle and to our seats. Our seats are together, so there’s no chance of escaping him entirely, but this time he takes the window seat and I give him a grateful smile.

  Watching the scenery pass by us outside the window is not going to help my sickness.

  Mia sits in front of me with Hollis and she turns around in her seat to look at me.

  “How are you feeling now?” she asks, her blue eyes full of worry.

  “Much better. Thanks for the peppermints.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m so sorry you got sick. It shouldn’t be much longer until we’re there.”

  “Where is there exactly?” I blurt.

  Her brows furrow. “Rush didn’t tell you?” She shoots him a look.

  He makes a noise of protest and covers her mouth with his hand. “Don’t say a thing, Red. I want it to be a surprise.”

  She rolls her eyes as his hand falls away. “You’re so weird, but whatever.” Looking back at me she gives an apologetic shrug. “Sorry, Kira. Guess, I’m not allowed to spill the beans.”

  In two seats across the aisle from us Cannon and Fox sit. Fox leans over and says, “I’ll tell you.”

  Rush presses a hand to my chest, holding me against the seat so he can speak directly to Fox.

  “I’ll drop kick you so hard everyone will know what the fox says.”

  “An insult and a joke rolled into one. I’m impressed.” Fox smirks, fighting a laugh.

  “Leave him alone,” Cannon warns in his tone that brooks no room for argument. “If he wants it to be a surprise for her, let it be a fucking surprise.”

  “I feel like I’m being scolded by my father,” Fox grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. “He’s a scary dude when he’s mad.”

  Sometimes, hearing the guys talk about their family and lives is super weird to me. I’ve gotten used to the fact it’s always the four of them that it seems like, well, it’s only the four of them. The fact they have lives, family, and friends that exist outside of here is weird.

  I glance over at Rush as he watches the trees passing by outside. With us heading north only a few are beginning to sprout buds for spring.

  There’s so much I don’t know about him, a whole life, and now here we are making one with each other. I idly stroke my stomach. Yet, we don’t talk about things.

  I refuse to open up to him, because the minute I do it makes things real.

  And real … real feelings, real thoughts, a real acknowledgement for more … it’ll change things in a way we can’t come back from.

  24

  Rush

  Watching the look of awe on Kira’s face as she spins around, taking in all the details of Grand Central Station makes keeping our destination a secret well worth it. She takes in every tiny detail, from the floors, to the ceilings, to even the light streaming in through the windows high above.

  “I’ve never been to New York before,” she says to no one in particular, still spinning around and around. I silently worry her nausea might return if she keeps it up. “This is incredible.”

  “And it’s only the train station,” I add in amusement.

  It’s cute the way she’s taking in everything, as if every small detail matters to her.

  She cherishes everything, even if she doesn’t know she’s doing it. She’s not superficial like so many of the girls I’ve been with in the past. Yeah, she knows she’s gorgeous, and she likes girly things, but she’s not so obsessed with herself that it’s obnoxious. When we first started fucking, I knew immediately she wasn’t with me because she wanted to hang on a potential rock star’s arm. We shared a mutual attraction and that’s all she cared about. I wasn’t an accessory to her, or merely my name and the potential it holds. I was a normal guy.

  I wonder if she still sees me that way. I hope so.

  I want to be more than what I can give someone.

  Our friends have nearly reached the doors and look back.

  Hollis raises his hand, waving for us to join them.

  I shake my head no. I’m not rushing Kira. If she wants to stay here all fucking day and night, I will, as long as she gets her fill of everything she wants to see. I’ll even buy a tent and set it up right here amidst all the people if I have to.

  Hollis cracks a small smile, and I’m afraid I know what he’s thinking, but it’s not whatever he has in mind.

  Kira and I aren’t a couple, she’s made it clear she doesn’t want that, and I wouldn’t know the first thing about being a boyfriend.

  I watch them leave and then all my attention is on Kira once more.

  Looking at her is like a punch to the gut, because she’s right there, but it feels like I can’t reach out and grab her. Months ago, I wouldn’t have hesitated. Everything is different now that she’s pregnant. Not because I’m freaked out about it or anything, but because she’s made sure to put distance between us. I won’t push her for anything, I don’t expect it, and I don’t want her to feel obligated. For now, I’m content to stay by her side and watch from afar. I don’t know how long it’ll last, I haven’t gone this much time without fucking someone in … years. But right now it makes me feel sick at the thought of being with anyone else. She’s all I think about, all I see, and I won’t degrade her or my feelings for her by fucking someone to fill a void that only Kira can soothe.

  She lowers her head and looks over at me. Her brown eyes are warm, l
it with a light I rarely get to see. Normally shadows haunt those eyes of hers, but not right now. I don’t think she realizes what a gift she’s given me by allowing me to see her happiness.

  Her dark hair hangs down past her shoulders, curled on the ends, and with her coat on to ward against the early spring chill in the city I can’t see her bump, but it’s there.

  “Look at how beautiful this place is,” she murmurs, smiling at me. “Where did everyone go?” She frowns suddenly as she looks around and realizes our friends are gone.

  “They went on to the hotel.”

  “Oh.” Her frown deepens and I want to make it go away. I want her smile back. When she aims her smile my way it’s like seeing the sun for the first time, basking in the awe inspiring light and feeling the heat warm you all over. “I guess I’m being silly. I just thought this was so pretty.” Her shoulders slump, like she feels pathetic for being enamored with the architecture.

  I reach out and with my index finger I tip her chin up, forcing her to meet my eyes.

  “You’re not being silly. Not at all. Thousands of tourists flock here every year to see this place.” I motion to the design around us. “I wish more people stopped to appreciate things the way you do.”

  A little bit of that light returns to her brown depths, but not all of it.

  “How far is the hotel from here?”

  “Only a block, I think.”

  “Lead the way then. I have no idea where we’re going.”

  I start toward the exit, shrinking my stride so she can easily keep up.

  She keeps her hands in the pockets of her long coat, and I wonder if she does it on purpose so I can’t hold her hand.

  I’ve never cared about a girl’s past before, but I often find myself wondering what happened to her that makes her fearful and desperate to keep her heart closed off.

  I was never supposed to love again, not after the loss I suffered, but here I am now, already in love with the child growing in her belly, and I think I’m falling for her too. Maybe I have been all along and I was too fucking stupid to notice.

  Stepping outside, wind hits us and she draws her shoulders up closer to her ears. It’s sprinkling lightly, but not enough to get us damp. My backpack of overnight things is strapped to my back, one of her bags on my shoulder, and the other dangling from my left hand. No fucking way was I letting her carry anything.