Built to Fall: A Rock Star Romance

by Julia Wolf

  * * *

  A few hours later, Adam tapped on my door. I answered, still in my pajamas, my hair piled on top of my head. He’d obviously showered and changed, with his wet hair and fresh smell.

  “How was your show?” I asked once I let him inside.

  “Great. Good crowd. We played well.” He rocked back on his heels and glanced around my room. “I royally fucked up last night.”

  I canted my head. “In what way?”

  “Claire,” he sighed. “I like you a lot, and I acted like such a dick. I was drunk and I did a line, but that’s not an excuse.”

  “Adam, it’s fine. You don’t owe me anything.” I folded my arms around my middle. “Maybe close the door next time you’re hooking up, though.”

  He groaned, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Dammit, I hate that you saw that.”

  I scrunched up my face at the mental image of the writhing and tongues and...oh, if I could Eternal-Sunshine-of-the-Spotless-Minded one memory from my brain, it would be that one. “I kind of do too.”

  He held his arms out to the side, then let them fall like heavy weights at his side. “Where do we go from here?”

  I raised my shoulders. “We’re good, Adam. I’m not mad at you. Last night was cringey, but that’s all.”

  He took a step toward me, dipping his head like he always did when he wanted to be on my eye level. “If the situation was reversed, I wouldn’t like it very much.”

  He had no idea how reversed the situation had become. If he knew what I’d let Dominic do to me, he wouldn’t be feeling an ounce of remorse. I couldn’t really be mad at him anyway. Seeing him last night had awakened something inside me that had made me brave enough to stop holding back.

  “We’ll be friends, right?” I rubbed my lips together, not to tempt him, but to gather my wits. “I want that.”

  He brought his hand to the center of his chest, leaning his head away from me a bit. “I kinda thought we might be more. But yeah, guess I flushed that down the drain.”

  “Sorry that being my friend is such a disappointment.” I rolled my eyes and swiveled away, taking two steps toward the bank of windows along the far wall. Adam caught me by the arm and spun me back around, making me laugh.

  “See?” He pointed to my grinning mouth. “Those vibes are immaculate. Of fucking course I want to be your friend, Claire. Who wouldn’t?”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Idiots?”

  “Exactly. If we’re meant to be friends, I accept that. Maybe I’ll get to show you I’m not a gigantic douchebag along the way.”

  “I don’t think you’re a gigantic douchebag. Just a minor one.”

  He squeezed my arm once more before releasing me. “I deserve that. I really do.”

  “I know you do. You gave that girl way more beads than me. I mean, jeez, Adam, break my heart why don’t you.”

  It was easy to make a joke of it now, but I couldn’t lie and say I hadn’t been hurt last night. Not heartbroken, but certainly let down. And after everything I’d been through with Derrick, being let down by a man, even in a small way, knocked some wind out of my recovery.

  Adam snorted and looked away, scrubbing the corners of his mouth. “God, I’m such a screw-up. I’m really sick over knowing you saw that. Rodrigo has been going after me all day.”

  That knowledge warmed me like a cozy blanket. Rodrigo was the real deal. Crazy, bouncy, out of his mind, but true to his word, and at this point in my life, a man being true to his word meant a lot.

  “Good. He promised he would.” I tipped my head to the armchairs on the opposite side of the room. “Can we be done with this conversation and watch TV or something?”

  He exhaled in relief and offered a crooked smile. “Hell yes. I’d love that.”

  We flipped around for a while until settling on a rerun of The Golden Girls. Adam’s choice, not mine, since I’d never seen it. I was dubious until I met Sophia and Rose for the first time, then I was in love.

  “How do you know about this show?” I asked.

  “It’s kind of iconic.” He shot me a bemused glance. “You’ve really never seen it?”

  “Never. My parents were weird and made us play board games and do crafts together. We hardly ever watched TV.”

  “That is…” His shaggy hair moved with his head shake. “That’s really wholesome. But it doesn’t surprise me.”

  I snorted a laugh. “Because I come across as wholesome?”

  “Nothing wrong with that. But no, I guess I’d say you come across as whole, more than anything.” Again, he shook his head. “God, I’m tired. I don’t even know what I’m saying.”

  He sees me as whole and not broken. I wonder if that means Derrick didn’t really shatter me into a million pieces…or maybe I’m just really good at faking it.

  “It was something nice, I promise.” Even if I didn’t exactly believe it to be true, I’d take it.

  I walked Adam to the door, and he lingered right outside of it. He raised his hand and cupped the back of my neck, gently squeezing.

  “Is it still sore?” he asked.

  “Sometimes. But I’m okay right now.”

  “I’m glad.” His hand slipped to my shoulder. “We’re gonna hang out again, right?”

  “Obviously.”

  With a happy grin, he ambled off, not noticing the men coming from the other direction. Dominic and his two bodyguards were about to pass my room, so I raised a hand and said, “Goodnight”. Before I could even turn to retreat into my room, Dominic took two long strides, slapping his palm against my door.

  “Claire.” The warm honey of my name became molten on his fevered tongue.

  I blinked at him and sucked in a breath. “Sir.”

  He nodded once at his security, dismissing them, then pushed into my room without another word.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Dominic

  Claire’s room was neat as a pin. Her bed was only slightly rumpled, and like before, there weren’t any clothes tossed around or random tissues on any surfaces.

  Her scent was everywhere, though. Honeysuckle invaded my senses, scrambling my synapses. Memories were becoming mixed up with the here and now. I’d always associated honeysuckle with warmth, love, safety. Now, I couldn’t seem to separate sex from it. Maybe that was what drew me to Claire. She was sexy as hell in this completely unexpected and really fucking exciting way, but she also reminded me of a time where everything was simple and easy—when life hadn’t gotten away from me and pain didn’t squeeze at my edges.

  Claire folded her arms under her chest. She wore pajama pants with cherries printed on them and a loose White Stripes T-shirt. She wasn’t trying to entice me, but now that I knew what she looked like under there, I was fully enticed.

  “Did you need something?” She sounded impatient, which she probably was, since I was standing, uninvited, in her hotel room, at midnight.

  “I saw you in the hall, thought I’d stop by and make sure you were resting up as ordered.”

  I saw her in the hall, being touched and caressed by a kid with hearts in his eyes.

  Her lips quirked in the corners. “I did, thank you. I haven’t left the room all day. I’ve fully recovered.”

  “Did you rest with the kid?” I hated myself for asking. I hated myself for wanting to know. A big part of me wanted her to say yes, to say she was fucking him, so I could put her back in the box I’d originally set her in: employee and nothing else.

  “We watched The Golden Girls, so I don’t know, does that count as resting to you?”

  “Why?”

  Her head tipped to the side. “Why what?”

  I shoved my hands into the side of my hair. “Why the hell did you watch The Golden Girls?”

  “Is that really what you want to ask?” Her throaty voice dropped to a low, soft tone. Once again, she’d made me feel like I was the clueless one here and she was gently prodding me in the right direction.

  My gaze snapped to the bed without intention, th
en back to her. Her tired eyes moved slower, following the trail I’d left behind before returning to mine.

  “Why’d you come to my room last night?”

  My question took her by surprise. Her hand pressed to her throat, and her eyes widened.

  After a long, pregnant pause, she said, “Because I was just drunk enough to lose a lot of my inhibitions.”

  “I get that.” I moved closer, tipping her chin up with my knuckle. “But why my room? Why not Adam’s? The kid follows you like a fucking puppy.”

  She didn’t jerk away from my touch, but she held so still, I had to wonder if I was scaring her. I uncurled my fingers and dragged them along her soft jaw, then let my hand fall to my side. She breathed easier the moment I stopped touching her.

  Claire swallowed hard. “I came to your room for something I knew I’d only be able to get from you.”

  “What?”

  Her eyes flicked to mine, and there was no fear there. Fatigue, yes, but she had fire burning deep inside her. It had probably always been there, waiting to be stoked.

  “Something dirty and hard. Something I’ve never, ever done. Something bad for me.” She tugged on her T-shirt, but didn’t look away. “I knew I’d get that from you, and in my drunken mind, I thought you’d be willing to give it to me.”

  “Jesus.” Her words had me twisted up and spinning in every direction. The biggest part of me wanted to toss her on the bed and show her last night had been nothing. But I was old enough and wise enough to hear everything else she’d said. I’d be bad for her. She’d never been done dirty and hard before. That should have made me hesitant. Take pause. But the shame of it was, her confession had twisted me up even worse.

  “I’m sorry.” Her lashes lowered to her cheeks. “I know. I’m being wildly inappropriate, and I have no excuse tonight other than a need to be honest.”

  “You should always be honest.” Her lower lip trembled as she took in a deep breath. “Open your eyes.”

  Her eyelids fluttered open. “Hi,” she whispered.

  That made my lips twitch. “Hey. You tired?”

  “Really tired. You?”

  I breathed out a chuckle. “Exhausted to my bones.”

  “Then we should say goodnight.”

  “We should.” I rarely did what I should do, but tonight, I would. Claire followed me to her door, staying a step or two back. I cracked it open, but before I left, I turned back to her. “Wildly inappropriate suits you.”

  “Does it?”

  “Yes.” I brought the back of my hand up to her cheek, gliding it over her smooth, silken skin. “I hope to see it again sometime soon.”

  She leaned into my touch like she was starved for it, not like she feared me. “Dirty and rough suits you, Dominic. But this part is pretty nice too.”

  My grip on her door tightened to the point I swore I heard the wood cracking. I wanted this girl so bad, I had to get out. This kind of need wasn’t me. It wasn’t wanted either.

  “This shouldn’t happen,” I choked out. I couldn’t bring myself to say that it couldn’t, only that it shouldn’t.

  Her satiny cheek rubbed against my palm one more time, then she backed away. “Goodnight, Dominic.”

  I rapped my knuckles on her door twice. “Goodnight, Claire.”

  * * *

  Marta kicked my knee with her platform shitkickers. “You look so blue. I’m not used to you like this.”

  I huffed a humorless laugh. “Right. I’m usually a barrel of laughs.”

  We were on a plane again, this time flying across Texas to Houston. The quiet roar of the engines wasn’t enough to block out the oncoming dread filling my head. Marta’s presence at the rear of the plane wasn’t either.

  “You’re not, and I know you’ve got a lot on your mind. This city…”

  “Yeah.” I peered out the window. “This city.”

  I had a history with Houston I didn’t like to think about. I didn’t like it, but there was no avoiding these thoughts. The loss. The helplessness. I couldn’t stop myself from reliving it every time I came through, even though it’d been more than half a decade now since...everything.

  “Do you want me to come with you tomorrow?” she asked.

  “No.” Knee-jerk, gut instinct drove me to do this alone. It always did. “I’m good. Once I get this done, I’ll be square.”

  She folded her arms in her lap and pressed her lips together, obviously suppressing a strong opinion. Marta rarely held back, but on this topic, on this city, she tried.

  “Say it.”

  Her arms unfolded so she could rub at her legs. “You don’t have to keep doing this. It hurts you, and you don’t owe any kind of penance. You could take some time away, not visit the hospital—”

  I shook my head and turned back to the window. “I’m doing what I need to do, Mar. If I don’t go, it’ll be worse. It’ll be a failure.”

  “To who? Not to me. Not to anyone who knows.” Her words were a blanket in a cradle. If I let them, they’d lull and comfort me. The thing was, I didn’t want comfort. Not now. Not about this.

  “I don’t really have it in me to argue.”

  “I’m not arguing, Dom.”

  I jerked my chin. “Why don’t you go sit in the front with Claire? I’m going to close my eyes until we land.”

  If I could have gone to the front of the plane and sat with Claire, I would have. But the way I felt, on edge and brutal, she wouldn’t have appreciated my company. She could say she liked it a little dirty and rough, but that wasn’t happening. Not today. Not like this. If I went up there and she gave me that look, the one she gave me whenever we got close, my tenuous control just might snap.

  Marta unbuckled herself and scooted forward in her seat. “Fine. I will. My offer stands, no matter how pissy you are or how hard you try to push me away. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Hmmm.” My brow tightened. “That paycheck is pretty sweet.”

  “Oh, shut up. You’re never going to reverse psychology me into working for free.” She flicked my ear on her way by me. “I love you like a brother, Dominic. A much, much older and annoying brother, obviously.”

  I squeezed her arm before she could move on. “Back at you, kid.”

  Her lips twitched into a smirk. “Oh, I know.”

  I closed my eyes, but I didn’t sleep. Instead, I pictured Dylan the last time I saw him healthy. Eight-years-old, freckle-faced, and a demon for music. Try as I might, I couldn’t keep the last time I saw him from creeping in. Gaunt and pale, barely conscious, still begging for music, in that Houston hospital that was way too big for a dying eleven-year-old.

  My hands fisted so tight, if I’d had longer fingernails, blood would have dripped between my knuckles. I longed for that, a slice of pain to pull my mind away from the very real pain of losing Dylan—a kid who hadn’t been my son, but could have been in another life.

  One day. All I had to do was get through one day in Houston, then I’d leave this place and these memories behind for another year or two. I could do one day.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Claire

  I bumped into a stony-faced Dominic waiting in the elevator bank with his security detail. We’d arrived late last night, and I’d crashed hard in bed. The past two days, I’d barely spoken to Dominic outside of work, but whenever we were near each other, I was always aware of everything about him. His breath, his scent, the cadence of his words, his moods. I wasn’t great at reading men—clearly, since I’d been with a lying bastard for so long without realizing it—but I truly believed Dominic was just as aware of me.

  He still scared me, but in a different way now. Now, he made me tremble like I did when a rollercoaster crested the top of the hill. The anticipation both killed me and made me feel alive. I wasn’t in a huge rush to see the other side of the drop, but I wouldn’t slow it down when it happened either.

  “We have to stop meeting like this,” I quipped as he steadied me by holding my arms.
<
br />   His hands lingered. “I’m starting to think maybe you like running into me.”

  “It isn’t the worst place to end up.” I pushed back from where I’d braced myself on his chest when he barely reacted to my pitiable attempt at flirtation. “Are you going to the hospital?”

  “Yes.” His nod was stiff, and the purple shadows beneath his eyes were almost as dark as the mood he appeared to be in. “Where are you headed so early?”

  “My parents live right outside the city, so I’m spending the morning with them. I haven’t seen them since I left my ex, so I’m not sure how things will be.”

  “Do you think they’re mad at you for leaving?”

  “No.” I shook my head hard enough my curls slapped my cheeks. “No, definitely not. They’re disappointed, but they don’t blame me, given the way it ended.”

  He took that in while we rode the elevator down, so I tapped on my phone to order an Uber.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Ordering my ride.” I glanced up from my phone to find Dominic leaning over me. “What are you doing?”

  “Thinking you should just ride with me. Depending on where you’re going, my driver can drop you off first or after they drop me off.” He closed his hand over my phone. “I don’t want you riding with a stranger.”

  The soft plea behind his order made me want to say yes, so I did.

  It turned out my parents’ house was on the way to the hospital, so we drove there first. Dominic spent the ride sitting across from me, staring out his window, one of my feet tucked between his. He hadn’t even looked at me when he’d done it. His large, brown leather boots had closed around my rose gold oxford and kept it there the entire way.

  Dominic finally looked my way when the car idled at the curb in front of my parents’ house. If possible, his eyes were even more black than normal.

  “What time will you be ready to go back?” he asked.