“Let’s try Periscope for live streaming, since you have more followers there, even though I only know enough to get by. I’m better on Twitter and Facebook.” Pressing the button at the side, I woke up his phone. “First off, this doesn’t require a password. If you lose it, anyone can access your entire life.” I rolled my eyes at him, because believing he was an idiot kept the growing lust at bay. “All anyone has to do is turn it off and then you can’t locate it. If this gets into the wrong hands, all our hard work could be undone. Add a password.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned.
My irritation amused him? Whatever. I downloaded the Periscope app, then opened it and logged him in, then flashed him the screen. “From the little TV icon, you see the red button? Click it.” I hit the button, then turned the screen toward him again. “Next, you type in the name of the broadcast. We’ll go with something like… Full Throttle’s Sebastian Trevino chilling at home.”
He nodded. “Then what?”
“You click ‘start broadcast’ and talk. But just a couple things first, so you know how it works. Not that I’m an expert.” I quickly searched for a current broadcast that might be even remotely interesting and then clicked on it. I readjusted the phone to make sure he could share the screen with me. “See how you tap it and you can send hearts? And right here, you can type stuff. See the comments popping up?”
“How am I going to read that crap while I’m in the middle of writing a song?”
I blew out a resigned breath. “I’ll help you until you get the hang of it.”
“Great.” He hunted up a pad of paper and a couple pencils, then retrieved his guitar on the other side of the couch. “Let’s do this.”
I aimed the phone at Sebastian and hit the button, giving him a thumbs-up so he’d know he was live.
“I’m Sebastian Trevino. You might know me as the guitarist from Full Throttle.” He squinted at the screen and laughed. “Thanks, I’ve been working out. A lot, actually.” He shook his head. “No, not dating anyone. We’re going on tour in a couple of months. My jeans?” He squinted. “I’m not into clothes at all, kinda old school. Usually just whatever seems good at the time.” He looked closer at the questions popping up, then burst out laughing. “No, not taking them off for this broadcast. My workout routine? It’s hard core right now. I do weights every other day, usually run four miles the other days. But I do a lot of other stuff in between, like planks, salmon ladder.”
“I think we all want to see you on the salmon ladder,” I said. No way was I going to pass that up. “Really, I think everyone needs to see that and get it out of the way so we can concentrate on what we’re here for. Come on. I’ll read the questions for you while your hands are busy. Where’s your gym?”
His head swung side to side. “You guys don’t want to see some guy on a salmon ladder, do you?” He stared at his phone and his shoulders drooped. “Seriously?”
Guessing all the comments were urging us to the gym, I flashed him a triumphant smile. I was confident that writing a song and creating a melody would have garnered a lot of viewers, but working out with that body? They’d stick around. And that’s what we wanted—witnesses to him being involved in a clean activity.
With the camera aimed on his muscular backside, I trailed behind him as he led us to his gym at the other end of the huge house. I made the camera pan the room, showing the audience two treadmills standing in one corner. Next to it were various sets of weights and benches. I aimed the camera at the other side of the room where a wide ladder sat with rungs set about ten inches apart and a long pole resting horizontally on one of them. I was dying to watch Sebastian on that thing, working up a sweat.
“Hey, I just realized women love seeing men work poles.” I snickered.“We just like them horizontal, while men want their women on a vertical pole.”
“Very funny.” He stood under the salmon ladder, glancing over at me and the camera.
“Tell us how it works,” I said.
“The idea is to jump the pole to the next higher rung. You have to create a little momentum.” He wrapped his hands at each end of the pole, pulled himself up and swung back and forth. His legs moved back again and forward, building momentum, and then he jumped the pole up the next notch. His stomach bunched and bulged, making my lips part, as he swung again and then moved up the next rung. He dropped to the ground.
“That’s how it’s done, folks,” I said, still aiming his phone at him. My heart beat a little faster and my stomach fluttered. “But I think they need to see that again, Sebastian.”
“You gotta be kidding me.” He gave me the stink-eye and snatched the phone from me to look at the screen and read the comments. “Fine, one more time.”
Struggling to keep a straight face and not drool, I trained the camera on him as he did it again. Up several rungs, then he lowered to the floor. “That’s enough for one day.”
I thrust the camera at him as he abandoned the salmon ladder. He leaned in to read the comments. “No, she’s not my girlfriend. Does she want to be?” He chuckled. “I doubt it. Yeah, she’s crazy. I agree.”
“Not everyone falls madly in love with you, Sebastian,” I said, taking on an irritated tone. “Some of us don’t date musicians.”
Grinning, he read the comments silently, shaking his head. Dying to read them myself and forgetting that our goal was keeping him in the spotlight, I flipped the phone around. The comments scrolled up and disappeared faster than I could catch some of them. But I got a few. “No, I’m not sleeping with him. Of course I don’t plan to. Because I’m not interested.” I propped the phone up against one of his clean towels on the shelf and spun around to find him over my shoulder grinning.
“They want to know who you are.” He glanced at me with a lopsided smile, probably grateful the attention was off him for the moment. “Tell them.”
“I’m just here helping him make some adjustments in his life.” I stepped out of the shot and backed up.
Sebastian picked up the phone and aimed it at me. “Not so fast. They have more questions.” He was barely suppressing his laughter.
“Then you answer them.” My gaze fell to his ripped stomach and how it shined with a light layer of sweat from that delicious workout he’d just had. I sidestepped out of the camera’s way.
“Ellie450 wants to know your name.” He glanced at the screen again. “And how you know me.”
I tried to grab the camera to get myself out of the frame, but he held it too high. Somehow he managed to keep it aimed on me. “Give it to me,” I demanded, leaping up again in hopes of snagging the phone.
He brought it closer, but blocked me with his other hand when I reached for it. I could see my face on the screen and hearts floating along the side. Still, I wasn’t convinced that I needed to be the center of anyone’s attention. I sprung up again, reached for the phone, but he swung his arm back and I missed.
“I’m going to hurt you.” My eyes went to the screen again as comments scrolled up faster than ever, a mass of hearts completely covering the side. This time, I jumped and grabbed with both hands, bumping into him. His naked chest pressed against my shoulder and a shiver began in my middle and spread out. I leaped back. “You’re dead.”
He snickered and adjusted the camera’s view. “Isn’t she pretty?” He eyed the screen as dozens of replies posted. “See? They agree.”
Heat swept over my cheeks. “Only because you put them on the spot.”
Sebastian shook his head as he scanned the comments more carefully. “No, you’re wrong. The guys are the ones mostly commenting and if they didn’t think you were hot, they’d just lay low.”
While he wasn’t watching me, I sprung again and snatched the phone. Twisting around, I moved forward to run, but Sebastian grabbed me by the waist and spun me around. With all my strength, I pushed off. He pulled me back but overcompensated and he lost his footing, sending us diving toward the ground. His back broke my fall, and I landed flush on top of him, my hip fitting perfectly again
st his.
God, he felt good, all firm and sexy. I froze. My lips parted and my gaze dropped to his mouth. His fingers wound through my hair and fisted, then he yanked me a tiny bit closer. Phone forgotten with no idea where it went, I pressed my palms against his chest and rolled off. Had I seriously almost kissed Sebastian? What was I thinking? Darting over to my right, I spied the phone and dived for it.
“And we’re back, folks. Would you like more Q and A with Sebastian or do you want to see him play guitar?” I shot Sebastian a smug look.
“Game on,” he whispered, skulking toward me.
My eyes stretched wide in horror, my palms flew up. “Hold on. I think they’d rather watch…” My gaze automatically drew to his gorgeous six-pack, “...what you have going on. I say we let the people vote.”
His lip curled up. “Deal. Let’s find out.” He sidled up to me and we shared the phone, our eyes devouring the comments to learn the verdict.
More salmon ladder… We want to see you both get sweaty… You two need to release some sexual frustration… That was some serious foreplay… Give her that kiss you both want… Less clothes… Lose the jeans… Whatever you did while we couldn’t see, do it again for us.
Oh, crap. “Sorry, folks, nothing happened. We just lost our balance and fell.”
“I got a nice handful of her ass, though.” He wiggled his brows. “Firm.”
I blinked, pivoted on my heel, then bolted and grabbed my purse on the way to the front door. Without even a goodbye, I flew outside, took the two steps at record speed and scrambled into my car. Making out with Sebastian was already a temptation without someone else voting me into it. I would never Periscope with him again. He and his perverted fans were on their own.
I started the engine of the Lexus and hurried through the gate as soon as it opened for me. When my car hit asphalt, I peeled away with my heart thumping.
A part of me wished I could stay and give in to the lust. I wanted to feel those lips against mine, but this time I wanted him sober and aware of every part of me that he touched. And every part of him I touched. A shiver teased my stomach and I pushed away the fantasy. Not going to happen. Musicians and actors were too self-centered and thought they were better than everyone else. Most of them didn’t even have a proper education and I didn’t want a partner who couldn’t keep up with me. I wouldn’t mind outthinking my partner once in a while, but not all the time.
I steered my car farther from his house, down the lush, tree-lined street and wondered if he had returned to his broadcast or signed out. With curiosity killing me, I pulled over, signed into my Periscope account and located his broadcast. His profile popped up on my screen and my stomach dipped.
Sebastian’s guitar neck lay on his thigh as he leaned over to scribble on a pad. Since he wasn’t looking at his screen, he didn’t see me join the broadcast. My lungs deflated in relief.
“You need a theme first. Otherwise, the song has no direction, no message. I suppose you could have a song with a bunch of words that don’t really mean anything. Some people get away with that. I prefer a little more substance myself.” He tapped the pencil’s eraser against his chin, then leaned toward his phone and eyed the comments. “My inspiration? Whatever makes me feel passionate at the moment, I guess. Songs can go all sorts of ways. It can tell a whole story, or deal with a specific problem or it can include a happy ending.”
Write something about the hot redhead…
Bad idea! But if I typed my thoughts in the comments, Sebastian would know I was watching. I gripped the phone in my hands, my knees clenched together, praying he didn’t write anything about me.
Sebastian’s brows lifted, an amused smile sneaking across his face. “That’s an idea. I think she’s worthy of her own song. Now, I can’t just say this girl is hot and that we’re not right for each other. We need more than that, so I have to pump it up, you know? Exaggerate it a bit.” Sebastian’s eyes darted to the screen for an instant before returning to his note pad. “Maybe something like… She’s testing my will… but I’ll resist until…” Sebastian studied the ceiling a moment, then jotted something on the pad. His fingers stilled, then he furiously scribbled out a bunch of the words, then began writing again. “She crosses that line, and I’ll make her mine.”
The screen flooded with hearts. I tossed my phone aside in disgust, not knowing if I could bear to hear him write an entire song about me. I doubted it would be favorable. Besides, I couldn’t sit on the side of the road forever. I needed to pee.
Putting my car into gear, my gaze drifted to my phone. Sebastian’s face smiled up at me and I reached over to turn up the volume.
“She’s liquid fire, brings on the hurt. She’s Satan’s hire in a mini skirt.”
Oh, he had to be kidding. My knuckles whitened as I negotiated a turn. I was going to murder him—in about an hour or so when he came over to meet with my dad for lunch.
“I’m giving up, and I’ve given in. C’mon, girl, don’t leave me hangin’,” a voice sang from my phone.
That didn’t even rhyme properly. Well, maybe, depending on how it was sung. Wait… he was writing that song loosely based on me. Did that mean I was his inspiration for the words? Was he actually attracted to me?
I might’ve resented him a little less if not for the fact that he’d already had his curiosity satisfied with me. He’d already been there, done that with me, yet my attraction to him hadn’t waned at all. If anything, it had become increasingly more intense. Maybe if he hadn’t been working out so hard these past two months, I may have been spared. But, no, he looked amazing.
My car rolled down the long driveway of my dad’s house and I parked it in front of the guest house. Once I’d made it into my little house, I slipped off my boots and then practically fell onto my couch. I didn’t even have the energy to find the remote, just stared at the blank screen on the TV.
**
Sandpaper scraped my eyes as I strained to lift my lids. Was someone knocking? I heard pounding again and leaped up to get the door, practically tripping over my shoes. My dad would’ve let himself in after a quick tap, which meant the knocker was someone else. But who? I rarely got visitors. I’d spent too much time in school and college taking extra classes, or enrolled in accelerated programs, to form any lasting bonds.
Still foggy in the head, I swung the door open. I automatically touched what must have been very messy hair, and stared into deep brown eyes.“What are you doing here?”
Sebastian rocked back on his heels. “I was going to ask you the same thing.” When I gave him a blank look, he pointed at his wrist. Except he wasn’t wearing a watch. “You’re late.”
I scrunched my nose up. “Crap. I fell asleep. I need to make sure I’m not scary. I’ll just be a minute. Maybe you should come in and make sure I actually make it the twenty yards into the house.” Sadly, I was serious. Without him right there, I would have probably returned to the couch and fallen asleep. I rolled my eyes at my own patheticness, turned, and left the door open for him to follow.
In my peripheral vision, Sebastian crossed the threshold, his eyes taking in the worn brown leather couch, the scuffed chest I used as a coffee table, and the antique dining room table made from a pine slab that had been left unfinished except for the dark staining. He slowed, his eyes becoming fixed on the brass spittoon on the wash table. “So not what I expected your place to look like.”
“What did you expect?” I glugged some water as I waited for his reply, taking that time to slough off the sleep.
Sebastian lifted a shoulder, his gaze lowering to the wide plank hardwood floors. “A lot of white, more modern…”
I scoffed, anger brewing in my chest. “You mean sterile and cold?”
“Uhm.” He shook his head. “No, just clean and light.”
“You suck at lying. This is the one place I can truly relax. I want it warm and friendly.” My stomach rumbled. “What’s for lunch, do you know?”
“Fish, I think.” He shrugge
d.
“Fish?” My stomach churned and I grimaced. “Sounds disgusting.”
Sebastian dipped his head to the side, narrowing his eyes. “Your dad said it was one of your favorites.”
“Was. Was my favorite. Not today.” I pressed my lips together, hoping I wouldn’t have to run to the bathroom. I was supposed to be getting ready and I was already late. I didn’t need to be delayed by a vomiting session.
Sebastian leaned forward and whispered, “Are you pregnant?”
I froze, my gaze riveting to his. “What?”
“I was around while Liam’s sister Faith was pregnant. She slept at random times, couldn’t hold much food down, and her appetite changed. And she was very cranky.” He shrugged, but he didn’t take his eyes of me. “Kind of like you.”
“I can’t be pregnant. Impossible.” Wasn’t it? I kept track of my period religiously and I hadn’t missed one. Since it had already been over two months since I’d been with Sebastian, I couldn’t possibly be knocked up. I shook my head. “No, definitely not. No way.”
“So you haven’t been with anyone?” He blinked and waved a hand. “Sorry, none of my business. Just wondering how you can be so sure.”
My mouth dropped open. Idiot! I’d been with him. I closed my mouth, trying to come up with a reply that wouldn’t blast him.
“Hey, I’m not trying to be nosy. If you weren’t with anyone, then you weren’t. I believe you. Like I said, none of my business. But if you can’t be pregnant, then maybe it’s something else and you should see a doctor.”
Oh. My. God. Sebastian didn’t remember our night of wild sex. My face hurt from the effort to hold back the outrage consuming me.
But how could I stay mad at him for ignoring something that he wasn’t even aware of? I’d been taking him far too seriously. I pulled air into my lungs, then released it and let my shoulders relax.
My relief was replaced by regret. I’d been punishing him and he had no clue why. Granted, getting drunk and having sex with me was his doing. But I’d been there too and had equal responsibility. And if I wanted a guy to remember me, I needed to make sure he wasn’t beyond wasted.
The Baby and the Rock Star (Rock Star Kisses Book 2) Page 5