Built to Fall: A Rock Star Romance

by Julia Wolf

  Wrapped in a towel, I searched through my clothes and picked a dress. I tossed it on the bed, and Dominic picked it up, sliding the fabric between his fingers.

  “I like this one,” he murmured.

  “You haven’t even seen me in it.”

  “But I can tell how good you’ll feel wearing it.” He cocked his head, raking his eyes over me. “Wear something else.”

  I tugged his beard. “Not a chance in the world.”

  A half-smile ruined his attempt at being stern. “I didn’t think so. You’ll just have to let me get my hands all over you before you go. And after.”

  “Always.”

  If always meant the next forty-eight hours…

  I dressed with my audience of one, my own personal fan club who never failed to remind me how goddamn hot I was. Before I slid on my heels, I climbed onto the bed, straddling Dominic. I ran my thumb over the crease between his dark brows, then touched my lips to his. A wave of wistfulness hit me so hard, I clung to Dominic’s neck so I didn’t get knocked down.

  I’d miss this when it was gone.

  “What are you doing tonight?” I asked.

  He squeezed my ass, growling against my neck. “Thinking about you in this dress.”

  “Do something productive. At least write a song about me in this dress.” I was purely joking, but the way Dominic’s eyes lit up, he liked the idea.

  “Stay with me, Claire,” he crooned. “Your lips are like honey, your smile is my air.”

  My eyelids fluttered, and a corset tightened around my chest. “I’d stay, you know. If you asked me tomorrow, I’d stay.”

  I hadn’t meant to say that, but how could I not? If I walked away without bringing up the possibility of us being together after the tour, I’d regret it forever.

  Dominic’s arms flexed around my middle, and he buried his face in my neck, but he didn’t say a single word. And that was answer enough.

  I finally tore myself from him, and Marta and I hopped in an Uber to the bar. Adam leaned by the entrance, waiting for us. When our car pulled up, he opened the door, helping Marta and me out.

  “Immaculate, Claire.” He let out a low whistle, looking me over.

  “And what about me?” Marta demanded.

  Adam grinned wide. “Fucking hot. Gorgeous. If I wore glasses, they’d be steamed up.”

  Marta flipped him off. “Way too much, lover boy.”

  The inside of the bar was a true dive, but in a hip, gentrified way. The wood floors were scuffed from being trod on for decades by combat boots, and the walls were decorated in old neon beer signs with Sharpie scribbles in between. Loud rock music only added to the vibe.

  Perched on the end of the bar was Rodrigo, sitting cross-legged with his beer in the air. If he were anyone else, I would have said he was already drunk, but he wasn’t anyone else.

  I stopped in front of him. “What are you doing up there, silly?”

  He booped my nose. “Waiting for you, preciosa. What are you doing down there?”

  I pointed to my feet. “I thought this was where the booze was. Am I wrong?”

  From behind him, the bartender handed him a light pink drink in a glass, and Rodrigo held it out to me. “Here you go. Vodka cran, light on the ice, just like you like it.”

  I took a sip, a smile splitting my lips. “My man. What would I do without you?”

  He shrugged. “You’d be so damn thirsty.”

  He hopped off the bar, and we joined the rest of the group. Adam’s friends were a loud bunch of dude-bros and a few really hot women. Introductions went around, but I was more interested in talking to Iris, Marta, and Roddy than making new friends I’d never see again.

  “What happens when you get back to New York?” I asked Iris.

  She held up two fingers. “We have a couple weeks at home, then we’re off to Europe. When we come back, we’re doing a music festival. I don’t think we’ll be home for longer than a month until next year.”

  Rodrigo bounced in his chair. “It’s gonna be so lit.”

  Adam swooped down on me, bending over so he could hug me from behind. “Are you ready for another drink? I’m the drink fairy tonight.”

  I swirled my half-full vodka cranberry. “I’m still good, but I’ll sprinkle some pixie dust in the air when I’m ready for a refill.”

  He kissed my temple before I knew it was coming. “All right. When you get a chance, I want to talk to you for a minute.”

  I shifted away from his hot beer breath. I really didn’t want to have a private conversation with Adam, but he’d been decent to me through the tour, so I’d listen to what he had to say. I’d also put it off as long as possible.

  “Find me in a little bit,” I said.

  He let go of his hold on me and squeezed my shoulders. “Don’t run away.”

  I smiled. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

  He moved back to his friends and flirty girls, and I refocused on mine. Rodrigo challenged me to another round of Rock, Paper, Scissors, and I once again trounced him.

  Despite Adam’s claim of being the drink fairy, Roddy turned out to be my supplier. I never got thirsty when he was around, and neither did Marta or Iris. The night wore on, and we line danced to rock music and played darts with a picture of a rat with a mohawk as the target.

  On my third drink, I finally got the dirt on Callum, the ever-absent band member.

  Iris shook her head. “Callum is…”

  “Shy,” Rodrigo supplied.

  “He’s shy and not very good with people.” Iris stretched an arm behind her head, revealing a wide swatch of tight, tattooed stomach. Marta barely looked for more than a second or two. Even I looked longer than a second or two.

  Roddy nodded vehemently. “He’s a good, sweet kid, though.”

  Marta slung her arm around my shoulders. “So, he doesn’t hate Claire and me? He hasn’t been actively avoiding us this whole tour?”

  Iris laughed. “Oh, he’s actively avoiding you, just like he’s actively avoiding the rest of the world. That’s just Callum.”

  I put my drink down on the table and snagged Marta, dragging her to the restroom with me. She gave me crazy eyes once I shut us inside.

  “Are you over Iris or what?” I demanded.

  Marta tucked her hands in her pockets and casually leaned against the wall. “She’s a friend.”

  I wagged my finger at her. To be fair, I was half-drunk. “More information needed. Don’t even try to escape my inquisition.”

  She shrugged. “We messed around again, but the spark wasn’t there. It’s sad because she’s hot as hell, but on the sexuality spectrum, I think she leans more toward men. Another loss for the team.”

  “Boo. I’m glad you’re not heartbroken at least.”

  “No, because you’re going to hook me up with your sister.” Her eyebrows shot up and down.

  “Come see me when we get back and I’ll make it happen. Annaliese will give you a run for your money, girl.”

  Marta rubbed her hands together. “Why do I like her already?”

  We spent a few more minutes in the bathroom, then headed back out. Adam was hovering just outside the door with an expectant look on his face.

  “Can we have that talk?” he asked, holding up a drink for me. It had too much ice, but I took it without complaint.

  “Sure.” I told Marta I’d catch up with her, and the face she made behind Adam’s back was nearly my undoing, but I kept it together.

  I leaned against the back wall of the bar, Adam beside me. His eyes were heavy-lidded, the aroma of beer was strong on his breath. “We haven’t hung out much lately,” he said.

  “I know. I think because we haven’t been staying in the same place lately—”

  He reached out and tugged one of my curls. “I like you.”

  “I like you too. We’re friends.”

  Shit, I was terrible at this. I’d never been faced with rejecting a man before. I’d been with Derrick so long, it had never been an i
ssue. But I had a dreadful feeling that was where this was going.

  “Yeah, we are.” He inched closer, turning so his chest brushed my arm. “But we vibe when we’re together. I’m not the only one who sees it. Even my friends feel it.”

  I glanced at Adam’s overgrown frat-boy friends. They were nudging each other, red faced and laughing as they watched us together.

  “They’re laughing at us,” I said.

  “At me. They’re laughing at what a fucking pussy I am. I’ve been into you for two months and I’m too chickenshit to make a move.” His hot, damp hand slid over my jaw. “Well, I’m not throwing away my shot.”

  “Stop.” I pressed a hand to his chest. “You’re drunk, Adam.”

  He leaned in, running his nose along mine. “Come on, Claire-bear. I like you.”

  Derrick’s nickname coming from Adam was like nails on a chalkboard. It made me want to curl into a ball and cover my ears so I never had to hear it again.

  “You’re making me really uncomfortable. That’s not what you do to someone you like.” My heart pounded like a wild beast in my chest. Adam had me caged in, both hands bracketing my head. He’d reduced my voice to a squeak and my fight to a mere scrap.

  “I’m just tryna show you how good we could be.” His hot breath pummeled at my lips, then his mouth took over, smashing against mine with no grace or finesse. He was sloppy, his tongue licking all over my lips and chin, alcohol dimming his aiming ability. His arms banded around my shoulders, molding me against him so tight, all I could do was squirm.

  He lifted his head to meet my eyes, and I saw realization there. “Claire-bear?”

  If he said it one more time, I’d scream the shaky walls of this dive down.

  “Get off me, Adam,” I rasped.

  “I’m not gonna hurt you,” he cooed.

  “I don’t want you to touch me.” Tears welled in my eyes as panic surged through my veins. We were in a public place. My friends were just around the corner. This wasn’t anything like the night Derrick knocked me unconscious, but telling myself that didn’t help—not when I was trapped and afraid. My body froze as fear rooted me in place.

  He brought his hand up to touch me, hit me, I didn’t know, because he never got to do it.

  Suddenly, I was free, and Adam had disappeared. I blinked, and Dominic was there, holding Adam by the back of his shirt. Dominic shook Adam hard, shoving him into a wooden high-top table and chairs.

  Adam turned around with his hands raised, but Dominic didn’t give him a chance to defend himself. His fist slammed into Adam’s face. The music was too loud to hear, but I felt the crunch of Adam’s nose.

  “You don’t get to touch her,” Dominic roared. His fist met Adam’s stomach, bending him in half, then Dominic brought his knee up, connecting to his chin, sending him back again.

  Adam’s friends came running over, surrounding us, yelling for Dominic to stop. Marta tried to intervene, but Dominic didn’t see anything but blood. He got two more hits in on Adam before the bartender and bouncer were able to pull him off.

  I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t stand still. Couldn’t be surrounded by the stench of beer, sweat, and blood one second longer. Mostly, I couldn’t look at Dominic raging violently. His face was so contorted, I barely recognized him.

  Was every man really a monster waiting to be unleashed?

  Iris was the one who got me out. She rode with me back to the condo, assuring me Marta was taking care of Dominic. She rubbed my cold, shaking hands, promising everything would look better in the morning. She cursed alcohol and testosterone. I appreciated she was trying to comfort me, but I barely heard a word she said.

  When I finally got back to the condo in the sky and had my first moment of silence, I slid down to the floor and sobbed. Adrenaline fled my body as fast as my tears flowed, leaving me listless.

  How could Adam have put me in this position—back in the place where I was let down and hurt by yet another man, after spending months clawing my way back to the surface? Was this how it was? How it would be? Trusting someone new was difficult enough without being on edge all the time, waiting for their mask to fall. I didn’t know if I could do this again.

  It took the rest of my energy to stumble into the first bedroom I passed. It wasn’t the one I’d been sharing with Dominic, but that didn’t give me a second of pause. Still in my dress and makeup, I curled up under the covers, exhausted to my very core.

  Before I fell asleep, I had enough presence of mind to text Isabela.

  Dominic was involved in a fight at a bar here in Chicago tonight. I can’t be sure it wasn’t caught on film. If this becomes public, I don’t think I’m capable of handling this situation alone. I’ll be in touch in the morning. I’m sorry.

  * * *

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Dominic

  “Claire!”

  Marta tugged at my arm. “Shut up, Dom. Stop yelling.”

  Panic stabbed at my gut with a dull blade. All the lights were off in the condo. The only noises were Marta’s shoes squeaking on the floor as she dragged her heels, attempting to slow me down. I was a bull, and the stark absence of Claire Fontana was my red flag. I charged through the sprawling space into our bedroom.

  Empty.

  “Where is she?”

  “I’ll check the other rooms. Iris said she came back here so she’s somewhere.” Marta headed toward her room while I went in the opposite direction.

  The door to one of the guestrooms was closed. Instinct told me Claire was in there and if I went barreling in like I had the urge to, I’d make everything worse.

  Carefully opening the door, the hall light illuminated a sliver of the dark room and the top of Claire’s head peeking out from the covers. Needing to see her more than I needed to take another breath, I kneeled beside the bed, finding my sleeping girl.

  Her nose was still red, and mascara tracked down her cheeks from crying. I almost reached out to touch her, to stroke her cheek until she opened her eyes, but I didn’t. What the fuck would I even say?

  That I couldn’t stand spending one night away from her, especially after she said she’d stay if I asked, so I took a chance and showed up at the bar?

  That seeing that kid, that asshole touching her, sent me into a blind rage?

  And then, when I realized she’d left, my heart hammered in my chest so hard from fear, I’d considered the very real possibility I’d been on the edge of stroking out?

  I couldn’t say any of those things. My insides were disfigured so hideously, I wouldn’t wish seeing them on my worst enemy. Instead, I looked at her for as long as I could bear, then retreated to the living room.

  Marta was waiting for me with a bottle of water, quiet music playing over the speakers.

  “She’s asleep?” she asked.

  “Yep. Out cold. In the guest room.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t demand she wake up and get her ass in your bed.”

  Marta knew me too damn well. It was exactly what I wanted to do.

  I shrugged, sinking down onto the sofa. “Sometimes, I’m actually able to fight off the devil on my shoulder.”

  Marta took a seat on the ottoman in front of me. She rubbed her hands on her jeans, lifting her head to look me in the eye. “You scared me tonight.”

  “I know. I scared myself.”

  “No, listen to me.” She jabbed a finger at me. “Violence has no place in my life. I survived loving a violent man, but that’s done now. You don’t get to react however you want with no thought of the consequences. This isn’t just your life, Dom.”

  “He was touching her, and she was trying to push him off! Where were you?” I hissed.

  “I couldn’t see them. If I had, I would have kicked him in the dick. But you sent him to the motherfucking hospital. He won’t be playing tomorrow night. I’m pretty sure you broke a few bones in his face. You went crazy, and for what? What the hell did you accomplish? Terrifying your girl and your best friend?”

&
nbsp; I whimpered at that on the inside. “I’d never hurt you in a million years, Mar.”

  “But don’t you see? A violent man is a violent man. You’re a volcano waiting to erupt.”

  “I know I overreacted, but I will not stand by while a man touches a woman who doesn’t want to be touched. Especially not a woman who is mine.”

  She blew out a long breath. “A woman who’s yours? Who the hell are you kidding? Your little entanglement is over in a day. That woman isn’t yours, and now she gets to walk away from another man who used brute force to express his feelings rather than…I don’t know, words.”

  She brought me to a halt. “What do you mean another man?”

  Marta flicked her fingers dismissively. “Claire’s angel of an ex-husband left her with a concussion as a parting gift.”

  “What?” Fury shot me to my feet. “What did you say?”

  “Sit down, please. I’ve had enough of your rage for one night. It’s giving me a headache.”

  I looked down at Marta, her hand pressed to her forehead. Guilt sapped my strength. My legs folded, sending me back down to the cushions.

  “She never told me,” I said.

  “I would have thought, with the way you’ve had her locked away with you for the last month, you’d know everything.”

  “Fuck.” I scrubbed at my face, frustrated and uneasy. “No, she said he was controlling, but never said a word about physical abuse. Claire…”

  Marta leveled me with an assessing glare. “You were thinking about keeping her, weren’t you? Dominic, were you going to ask her to be with you after the tour?”

  “Does it matter now?”

  Her glare hardened. “You tell me. Does it?”

  I hadn’t gone to the bar with an answer. I only knew when Claire said she wanted to stay together, I felt such a powerful sense of relief, I’d been silenced by it.

  My hands shook as I stared down at them. Nothing about me had changed. I’d let this beautiful woman in, to an extent, but I was still this deeply chaotic, damaged, unfit-for-human-companionship man. If I kept her, I’d ruin her. I’d hurt her and break her heart. Not because I would stop wanting her, but because I wasn’t any good at loving.