Never Leave a Rockstar (Never Trust Book 4)

by Sarah Darlington

  His face changed as he looked at me. It softened. He stood, and he wrapped his muscular arms around my neck. “You look good. You smell so clean,” he whispered against my ear.

  His simple words spread heat all through me. Being in his arms was affecting me in ways that were way too intense for a populated boat. “Does that mean I didn’t smell so clean on the island?” I asked, making a joke as means to deflect.

  He chuckled. “Nah, you always smelled nice to me.” He kissed my shoulder—of all places my shoulder—and pulled away. I didn’t know how to interpret that. He was a sex addict, yet he was kissing my shoulder?

  I stared at him for a moment, in a daze, before I snapped back to life. “Here,” I said to the girl, handing over her toiletries bag. “I used your stuff. And your toothbrush. Thanks.”

  She gave me a horrified look. “Um, ew.” That must have repulsed her enough because she stood up and walked away.

  Ollie had this grin on his face when I sat down next to him.

  “What?”

  “I used her toothbrush too,” he admitted.

  I couldn’t help but smile. Pinching my eyes shut, I leaned into him and he put his arm around me. Oh God, what was happening between us? I felt something there. Something taking ahold of me. Something so strong and undeniable. Something that was filling my entire chest.

  I wanted him.

  Not just for sex either. I wanted to be with him. To spend more time like this together. To wake up with him, island or no island, tomorrow morning. And then the morning after that and after that.

  These things I wanted, these feelings that washed over me—they were terrifying. I didn’t want to fall in love with a man who couldn’t love me back for the second time. Nothing was worse than that.

  “I’m done with the Bahamas for a while.” Ollie said. “I just want to get the hell back to the US. I need a phone. I’m going to go try to find someone who has one.”

  He stood up, and he spent the rest of the snorkeling excursion going from person to person, asking to borrow a phone. Plenty of people had phones, I watched from my spot on the bench, because everyone he talked to wanted to snap a quick picture with him. But no one seemed to have cell service that worked all the way out here. It wasn’t until we were heading back into Nassau where he got a phone call out.

  “Michelle—” I overheard him say. I knew from Emma that Michelle was Sunset Revival’s manager. “I’m in some shit. I need you to come out to the Bahamas and do damage control. No... not like last time. This is worse. Much worse. Wait, what? No... no, I hadn’t heard that... Sunday? Okay. I’ll have to deal with that back in Tennessee. Can you book me a hotel in Nassau... whatever is good. No, the Radisson works. Okay... yeah... see you soon.”

  Ollie returned the phone to the man who had kindly lent it to him. He then sat down next to me just as the boat was beginning to dock. “I don’t want to share this with people,” he muttered under his breath.

  For a second I thought he meant me—us. But then I quickly realized he meant the kidnapping.

  “Michelle—she can know, obviously. I trust her. Our families too. But I don’t want this past week on the island to turn into TMZ’s next big story. Can you keep it a secret with me?”

  “Sure.”

  “Thank you.”

  I felt uneasy as we stepped off the boat. I didn’t mind keeping our island adventure our own personal secret. I was cool with that. I didn’t want the media attention. But I was confused about where Ollie and I stood. On the island, whatever we’d shared made sense to me. Now, it felt threatened somehow. Would he tell people about us? Was there even anything to tell? How long before he returned to his regular, Rockstar whirlwind of a life? How long before I got left behind?

  I swallowed hard.

  Ollie was young. It wouldn’t be long. Besides, with all my breast cancer gene issues, things I was too terrified to discuss with him, I knew I couldn’t compare to other girls in his life. Not after I had the surgery that would take my breasts away. A guy like Ollie most certainly wouldn’t be able to handle something as serious as that.

  I needed to get home.

  I needed an out.

  I needed distance from him before my feelings grew even stronger.

  ~ CHAPTER 21 ~

  OLIVER

  “I want to go home,” Luce said to me. We’d just left the US Embassy, sorting out her missing passport situation. It would take my manager Michelle a couple hours to buy a plane ticket, catch a flight from Tennessee, and get to the island. I wanted to wait for her before talking to the local police. She knew how to handle police and sticky situations a hell of a lot better than me. It was her job.

  “Now?” I asked. We hadn’t even eaten anything. “I had Michelle book us a room at the Radisson.” What I really wanted to do was lock ourselves inside that hotel room. Close the curtains. Crank the AC. Stay tucked away for at least the next two days. Order room service. Eat everything on the menu. Shower with her in whatever big-ass, five-star shower was in the Radisson’s bathroom.

  More than all that.

  I wanted inside her.

  It was all my mind could think about since the moment she came from the bathroom on the snorkeling boat. I’d held back on the island—I still wasn’t sure why. But now, all I wanted was to be closer to her, to explore every inch of her skin, to taste her mouth and the sweet spot between her legs. I needed her. I needed her to flood my system. That need was overwhelming.

  Fluffy robes and clean sheets. And Luce curled next to me. Nothing had ever seemed closer to heaven than that.

  “I’m worried about my family. My sister, mostly. I’ve been gone longer than I ever planned. She needs me.”

  I didn’t know that until this second, but I respected it. “Okay. You want to leave now. Go straight to the airport?”

  “I think so.” Her blue eyes locked on mine as we stood there on the street outside the embassy. This couldn’t be the end.

  “Can we eat first?”

  She nodded. And I took a breath of relief. It almost felt like she was trying to get away from me. The taxi that had taken us to the embassy still waited, we returned to the car and climbed back inside. “Can you take us to a restaurant?” I asked the driver. “Something good.”

  “Something vegan,” Luce added.

  “I know the best vegan restaurant,” the man answered.

  What? How did I not know she was vegan? I was with her day and night on the island. We’d talked about a million random things, especially random things pertaining to the food we weren’t eating. She’d never once mentioned it. She never once mentioned her family either.

  “I didn’t know you were vegan,” I commented as the man started to drive.

  “I know. I ate the snails. Don’t tell anyone.” Who would I tell? “It’s something I do with my sister and dad. Sometimes Emma tries with us, but I know she cheats with your brother. I figured now that we weren’t going to starve to death, I should stick with my principles again.”

  “Okay.” Vegan wouldn’t be my first choice at the moment. A big juicy burger, with cheddar cheese, pickle, and bacon... my stomach growled just thinking about it. “I’ll eat whatever.”

  “I mean, I like meat. I’d love a hamburger right now,” she said reading my mind about the burger. “But it is what it is.”

  She looked at me—nervousness behind her words. She rubbed at her arms like she was cold when it wasn’t cold at all in the taxi. What else did she keep hidden? Because this felt like more than a simple diet thing somehow. If she liked meat, who was she eating vegan for? Her sister? Her dad? They did it together?

  The man stopped in front of something very trendy, very tropical, very much on point with what my Instagram followers would be into. I’d take whatever I could get right this moment. Inside, we ordered bowls of some kind. Really, I didn’t care. And then we sat to eat.

  “Oh my God,” she said, inhaling her food, scarfing down bite after bite. I wasn’t far behind her. The pl
ace was actually really good. After eating only snails and non-poisonous berries over the past week, anything was good. But I had this pit in the bottom of my stomach I couldn’t shake, one that had nothing to with hunger.

  I set down my fork with half my food left. I couldn’t even eat. “What happens next? You go to the airport? You go back home, back to your life? And me? What about me?”

  “You talk to the police, right?”

  She wasn’t understanding. “No, what happens next for us?” Because separating now didn’t feel right. And I had anxiety flooding me just fucking thinking about it. I sat back, locking my hands behind my neck, needing her to tell me I wasn’t crazy or alone in my feelings. I’d never felt this before. This ache. This pain. This nausea in my stomach. She was going to return to her life and where the fuck did that leave me?

  She held her fork mid-bite. She set it down slowly. “It was just a kiss,” she whispered.

  No it wasn’t. She must have felt it, too. Right? I couldn’t be misinterpreting this so poorly. “You sure about that?”

  “I’m sure you kiss girls all the time.”

  “I do. But not like I kissed you. That was different. It was better.”

  A touch of pink hit her cheeks. I noticed her breathing change. Her chest moved softly up and down. “You probably say that to everyone.”

  “I don’t.” I leaned forward on the table. “I’ve never fucking felt what I feel for you—not for anyone. That isn’t something I want to back away from. Or brush off. Or blame on the island. I have my issues. I’m aware. But I feel something here, and I can’t even begin to deny that.”

  She inched back. “Okay. And what do you propose then? I give up my life, move to you. You give up yours, move to me.” She shook her head. “Both of those options sound ridiculous. And besides all that. You and I are so different. So different.” She took a sharp breath in. Suddenly she had tears swelling in her eyes. “I mean, we’re nothing alike. An ideal Saturday night for me is playing games at home with my dad and sister. Going to bed early. And ultimately, whatever it is you think you want from me… I wouldn’t be able to give it to you long-term. I don’t even want to try something if it wouldn’t at least have the potential of being long-term. And you know you’re not a long-term kind of guy.”

  She was angry with me for even suggesting anything. The tears in her eyes weren’t pain—they were frustration.

  “You’re right,” I said, feeling frustrated too. “I’m not the long-term type. Not usually. But what if you stayed a few more days. A few more nights. And we figured this thing out before we threw it away.”

  “If we did that, in a few more days I’d only feel more for you. It would only make leaving harder. I think I should go today. And I think that should be that.”

  She stood up. And my chest felt like she’d taken a hammer to it. So that was it. She was just going to leave. Her dad and sister at home suddenly felt like an excuse rather than an obligation.

  “Okay. I’ll take you to the airport then.”

  ~ CHAPTER 22 ~

  LUCE

  Leaving Ollie felt weird. I knew going from spending every second with someone to cold turkey quitting them would be an adjustment. I didn’t realize quite how much of an adjustment until I’d boarded the plane.

  The goodbye had been easy enough. A simple hug on the curb outside the airport. He wished me well. I did the same. And that was that. Or it should have been.

  But I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Like an itch I couldn’t scratch—my brain kept dwelling on ‘what if.’

  Ollie had his history with women. But people change. They grow up. Potentially, Ollie could too. Not sure if it was me who’d make him want to change, make him want to settle down with one woman. That was a long shot. But I knew, buried deep, he might figure his shit out for the right person. What if I was the right person for him? And vice versa. It was a crazy thought, but it wouldn’t leave me alone.

  We’d made a good team on the island. Could we make a good team off the island?

  Still, I’d walked away because I felt I had to. Soon I’d have the surgery to remove my breasts and lessen my chances at developing breast cancer. Ollie could have his pick of super models. There was no chance a guy like him, so clearly distracted by the next beautiful thing, would ever go for a girl who wasn’t whole. I was too chicken shit to even tell him, let alone find out what he’d say if he ever saw me like that.

  So I made the decision for him.

  Made it for us.

  It was easier this way. I just wasn’t prepared for how much it hurt. Because I felt raw and close to vomiting the entire flight home.

  My friend Ellie met me at the airport. Like Rhett, she was part of my core group of friends. Prior to Rhett’s wedding, I’d distanced myself from all our mutual friends because being around any of them became too much for me. But I’d called her from a stranger’s phone in Nassau because I needed someone to pick me up. I wasn’t ready to tell people exactly where I’d been the last week, and I knew Ellie would let me keep my secrets.

  “Hey, girl.” She smiled. She had short dark hair paired with the bluest eyes, and even more tattoos than myself. Many of hers were similar to mine because the same artist who’d done all mine had also done all hers. “You don’t have any bags? And are you wearing men’s boxer briefs?”

  “Yes and yes. I lost all my stuff.”

  “Good lord.”

  “No phone. No passport. No keys. I had to buy these flip flops at the airport gift shop. It’s been hell.”

  “Sunset Revival,” she read off the front of my t-shirt.

  Oh shit. I glanced down, shivering in the cold air. I’d grabbed the first thing I’d found in Ollie’s closet before we’d escaped from his boat. I’d never even bothered to read what was printed on it. I saw now that it was one of his band shirts.

  A smile crept over Ellie’s lips, and I knew she knew. She was super intuitive like that. I should have realized she’d be able to figure this out in two seconds flat.

  But she didn’t press it. “Well, let’s get you home then. You’ve got to be freezing your tits off.”

  I was. “Thank you.”

  I climbed in the passenger seat of her car, thankful she already had the heat on full blast. She handed me a sweatshirt that she happened to have on the floor of her backseat, which I gratefully put on.

  Suddenly she gasped. “What happened to your legs? Jesus. Christ.”

  “Bug bites. I’m okay.”

  “Is there something I should know?”

  I swallowed hard, feeling shaky. “I just want to go home. Please, Ellie.”

  She reached over the middle seat, and she squeezed my fingers. Her way of trying to comfort me. Then she eased into traffic and started driving through the airport loop, toward the highway back home. “I’m sorry. Luke Mills is a fucking idiot. You’re better off without him.”

  “Luke?” Why would she assume I’d been with Luke, Ollie’s oldest brother, the guitarist in their band? Just because he was the safest bet among the Mills brothers?

  “Not Luke? Then who?”

  “Ollie.”

  “No fucking way. Ollie Mills? You and Ollie Mills? How old is he? Isn’t he like twenty-one and a man-whore?”

  So much for picking my least judgmental friend to come get me. I suddenly felt defensive of Ollie. I pulled my hand out of her grip. I knew she’d been trying to comfort me, thinking I’d been fucked over by a man. But I hadn’t been fucked over by anyone other than maybe myself.

  “Ollie Mills is amazing. And I left him,” I muttered. I covered my face with my hands. “He’s protective and sweet and a really good kisser. He’s the kind of guy who holds you at night and fucking means it. Because I’m pretty sure he’d never do anything he didn’t want to do just for the sake of doing it. He listens—really listens. There’s a whole other side to him I don’t think he shows anyone. A side I got to see. So yeah, he’s pretty fucking great, and I walked away from that.”
<
br />   I sunk down the in the passenger seat, bringing my knees to my chest. Emotion burned in my eyes. Well there we go—I went ahead and did it. I had freaking feelings for Ollie Mills. I was so scared of that happening, of falling for him, I’d walked away. And it still happened just the same. This felt like hell.

  “I’m sorry,” Ellie said. “I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t have stereotyped him. You know how I hate that sort of thing, and I went and did it with one of my best friends. You shouldn’t let my opinion, or anyone’s, stand in the way of something great. You want me to turn the car around?”

  I sniffled. “No. I missed my chance. I need to get home. And shower. And get my life in order.”

  “Trust me, if he likes you at all, you didn’t miss your chance.”

  ~ CHAPTER 23 ~

  OLIVER

  It was only a day later, but I felt like I’d aged five years. I sat on a plane, flying first-class back to Nashville, Michelle in the next seat over.

  “We should postpone this meeting. Your brothers and Dani will understand.”

  “No, it’s a good time for a meeting.” I took another swig of water from a crystal glass. The flight attendant working had done an excellent job of keeping said glass full. I stared at it, swirling around the ice cubes, thinking about how much I would have loved some ice on the island. I wondered if Luce thought the same thing on her flight home yesterday. I wondered if she was even thinking about me at all. Or if she’d eased back into her normal life today as if our time hadn’t ever happened.

  “I think the police will find your boat. You shouldn’t be worried about that.”

  We’d spent the entire day yesterday with the local Nassau police. They’d put out arrest warrants for April and the two others who stole my boat. The officers had assured me repeatedly they’d find my boat. I told them I didn’t want this incident to go public. They seemed to agree. But really, they probably just thought the kidnapping of a celebrity would be bad for local tourism.