by K. K. Allen
“C’mon,” Melanie says. “Come hang out with us. We all missed you, and it’s the last night we can hang out before Florida.”
“Will you be in Florida too?” I ask, surprised. I thought it was a band-only thing.
Melanie’s eyes widen. “Oh my God. Wolf rented the biggest house. You know about it, right? We’re all going. You have to stay with us. We can be roomies!”
“In the house?” I ask, then shake my head. Perform Live called me before I got to the concert and told me they needed me in Miami with the band, so I’ll be in Florida against my wishes, but there’s no way I’m going near that house. “No. I’m staying in a hotel. I wasn’t going to go at all, but the tour company would rather me be close to the band while we prep for Europe.”
Her eyes sparkle with mischief. “We’ll see about that.”
I lean back to study her. “What do you mean?”
She shrugs. “Just that I highly doubt you and Wolf can be in the same city and not find your way to each other. Anyway, come hang out tonight. We always do an all-nighter on the last night of tour. It’s tradition, and you’re a part of our dysfunctional family now, whether you like it or not.”
I give her my best sideways glance, already giving in.
Melanie laughs knowingly. “We’ll be at the hotel in an hour, and then it’s party time. You’re coming, even if I have to tell everyone the party is at your place.”
“Jesus, fine,” I groan, burying my face in my hair to hide my smile. I like Melanie. I like this crew. And I’m part of this group now, whether Wolf forgives me or not. My time spent with them will be much more enjoyable if I step out of my Lyric and Wolf bubble to enjoy them.
When we arrive at the hotel, Doug’s already there waiting with our hotel room keycards. I linger behind, letting everyone else get theirs first so I can have some time alone with him. It’s nice to see a friendly face.
“Good to see you, darlin’,” Doug says as he scoops me up in his arms.
His hug is long, strong, and comforting, an embrace that almost brings me to tears. “Good to see you too,” I say into his shoulder.
He pulls away, smiles, and gestures for me to follow him to the elevator. He presses the button for our floor and waits for the door to close to speak. When he does, it’s with an upward curl of his lips and sideways glance. “Glad to see you and Wolf were able to speak civilly to one another.”
I cringe. “Don’t start.”
He chuckles. “I’m just giving you shit. It was pure entertainment on the bus with Crawley after that. Wolf kicked him off his bus days ago, but Crawley couldn’t wait to give Wolf a piece of his mind. Wish you could have been there to see it.”
Groaning, I lean against the wall and fold my arms. “I’m surprised Crawley’s still here after everything.”
“Well, rumor has it he won’t be around for long. But I’d stay clear of him if you can.”
“Ha. That won’t be a problem. I’m just a ride along now.” After everything that went down, I have no intention of getting anywhere near Crawley.
Doug looks like he’s bracing for impact, taking a deep breath and tensing up, like he’s about to drop a bombshell on me. “Looks like I’ll be headed out after tomorrow’s show. They need me on Tony’s tour. And Wright thought it would make you happy to have your job back.”
“What?” Why wouldn’t Wright call to tell me that? After the shouting match between us the other day, I was certain the last thing he’d ever do was give me what I wanted. And as grateful as I am to have my job back, I’m a little sad to know Doug won’t be around. I was looking forward to spending time with him again. He’s always been like a second father to me. Someone that had my back when I wouldn’t let my father help me. Someone who kept his eye on me when I was sixteen, working odd jobs around the tour company to experience everything I possibly could.
“Job’s all yours again,” Doug confirms. “There’s something I should tell you, though.” His warning tone hits my gut. I’m so over bad news.
“Out with it.”
He gives me a sympathetic look. “Your father will be in Miami.”
“No way.” My jaw drops and I shake my head. “Is this a coincidence?”
Doug shrugs. “Kind of.”
I narrow my eyes, pissed because I know Doug way too well to accept that answer. “Kind of?”
“He asked about you. I told him where you’re going to be, and he made arrangements. I just didn’t want you to be surprised. He wants to see you.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “Doug. Seriously? I already have too much drama to deal with right now. I can’t spend this time mending my relationship with my father, too. That one goes way too deep. What’s up with everyone lately, anyway?” I uncross my arms and toss my hands in the air. “First Destiny and now Mitch. I just can’t deal with this.”
Doug tilts his head. “What about Destiny?”
With a half-sigh, half-groan, I bite my lip. “She basically harassed me until I agreed to meet her for lunch, so I saw her earlier today. She’s still a bitch.”
He throws his head back and laughs. Doug only has loyalty to my father. He dislikes Destiny just like everyone else who’s gotten close enough to see past her bullshit exterior. “Let me guess. She asked you for a favor.”
I smirk. “Turns out the label is relaunching her career. Rebranding or some shit. She’s looking for new material, and guess who she thought would make the perfect songwriting partner?”
“That woman has some steel balls, doesn’t she?”
“I told her no, of course. I don’t even know how she found out I was in town.”
We exit the elevator on the ninth floor, and Doug hands me the folder in his hands. Inside is all the room information for tonight’s hotel stay. It occurs to me that I could find Wolf’s room and go to him. But it might be less destructive if I happen to run into him at the party instead.
“All yours now,” Doug says with an encouraging nod.
I smile. “Thanks. So, Mitch will be in Miami. You sure?”
Doug walks me to my room and pauses outside my door. “He’ll be at the studio. But you know him, Lyric. He’s not going to push, but he will try to see you. Make time for him. He’s your father, and he misses you like crazy. Your silence is killing him. I get why you hate Destiny, but your father doesn’t deserve the silent treatment.”
“You don’t understand, Doug. It’s all just one big ball of pain. The only way I could cope with it over the years is by cutting off ties with them both. The moment I let my father in, I inadvertently let my mother in too. I need to stand on my own two feet right now, and I can’t do that with them hovering over me, constantly telling me what I’m doing wrong.”
“But your father would never tell you what to do. He’d never steal from you, Lyric. He’s only ever wanted the best for you, but he would never try to control what that meant to you. That’s all your mother.”
“No, he wouldn’t steal from me, but he’s the one who sent me off to live with the witch. He was too selfish to see how wrong it was.”
Doug nods. “Now that I’ll agree with. He was being selfish to an extent, but he also wanted what was best for you. And you touring with him while you should have been in a real school, making normal friends… It wasn’t the life for you. He knew that. He didn’t realize what would happen when he sent you to live with her.”
I push my door open, ending the conversation. “I know. Thanks for the warning. I’m going to get cleaned up and over to Melanie’s. You going to the party?”
He makes a face and shakes his head. “No, thank you. Those days are over for me. I’m all about the bathrobes and overpriced, late-night room service.”
I smile. “Okay, see you tomorrow.”
He smiles one last time before turning to walk down the hall. “You’re the boss.”
It’s midnight and I’m stepping out of the shower when my phone rings. I haven’t attempted sleep. As soon as we arrived at the hotel, I ran to
my room, changed, and went to the gym. I knew there would be a party, and I also knew Lyric would probably be there, so I decided not to go. I just need to stay busy. Knowing she’s here is enough for me right now. Building up the courage to actually talk to her is a whole other story.
I ignore the call and immediately get a notification, so I check the text.
Derrick: Where are you? Hedge is trying to shove his tongue down Lyric’s throat. At party. Room 912. Come now.
What the fuck?
All my calm instantly goes out the window, and I’m forced to throw on a pair of shorts and a shirt. That didn’t take Hedge very long. I know he has the hots for Lyric, and let’s be honest; there isn’t really a girl he doesn’t try to bone if given the opportunity.
I fly down the hall and pound on the door of Room 912 until someone opens it. I’m too blinded by my rage to notice who. I push my way through the crowd and through two adjoining rooms to find her. She’s there, leaning against the bed’s backboard, knees up, a red cup in her hand, and a smile on her face.
Our eyes connect, and I’m unable to pull away. Her smile fades and her eyes bore into mine with hope. My chest burns from the look she’s feeding me, and I want to reciprocate.
Lyric always looks amazing, but I have a hard time controlling my dick when she removes her makeup and throws on sweats. And that’s exactly how she looks right now. Natural and perfect.
And then I remember the feeling she left me with when she got in that car, and all thoughts of stripping her down and ravaging her dissipate.
She’s shoulder to shoulder with Terese on one side, Melanie on the other. Hedge, Derrick, and Lorraine are on the bed too, facing them.
Everyone seems to glance at me at the same time. I realize I must look like a freak with my hair still wet and eyes as wide as a tarsier. Derrick raises his eyebrows, and the corners of his lips turn up in a smirk. And suddenly it becomes clear he was fucking with me. Dipshit.
The laughter starts. Derrick and Hedge are rolling all over the bed, holding onto each other and losing their shit. Melanie and Terese have their heads bowed together with giggles, and even Lorraine is smirking. By the look on Lyric’s face, I can tell she has no clue what’s going on.
“You asswipes are dead,” I growl. But I don’t pummel them now. I’ll get them later. Right now, I need a fucking drink.
“Where’s the alcohol?”
Lorraine hops off the bed and tugs me into the bathroom, her high, blonde, ponytail bouncing with each step. She mixes me some colorful shit that appears to be all alcohol, thank God, and hands it to me. She’s a good friend.
“You okay, buddy?”
Instead of answering, I knock my cup against hers, then take a drink. I wince as the liquid fire burns my throat. “Ah, shit. What is this?”
She chokes back a laugh. “I have no fucking clue. It’s potent though, ain’t it?”
I shake my head and take another drink, opening my throat and gulping down the liquid without tasting it. “Perfect.”
Lorraine smirks and walks out of the bathroom, leaving me to myself. Looking back in the mirror, I catch a glimpse of my fucked up hair and untidy stubble. I run a hand through my hair to make it presentable, but I know there’s nothing I can do about my face now. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves.
There’s a reason I’ve declined every party invite since Lyric left: the fear of drinking too much and doing something stupid when my heart still belongs to her.
Unlike me, Lyric’s not a big partier. She likes to go out and have drinks on occasion, but to get plastered in a hotel room with the band, the entire crew, and a bunch of random groupies is not her style. She would much rather curl up in my arms and watch a movie in bed. I loved those times with her. When the rest of the world would fade away. Our bubble was safe. Perfect.
I know how these douchebags get when they see a pretty girl. And Lyric is beyond pretty; she’s stunning. I should have gotten here sooner, just in case any of these douchebags really did get the wrong idea and start hitting on her. I might be angry as hell at her, but Lyric’s still mine.
Now that we’re both here, I’m not sure what to do. Leaving is out of the question, but after our last interaction, being in the same room is probably not the best thing for us.
I slam the rest of my drink and pour myself another. When I walk out of the bathroom, Derrick and Terese are making out on the bed with a yawning Lyric still sitting beside them, slouching awkwardly against the headboard. Hedge has disappeared, probably afraid of my fist—as he should be.
Melanie bounces up to me, liquid splashing from her cup. “Hey, Wolfman,” she says, slurring slightly. “See your girl over there? I think she needs a cuddle.” She giggles, and I roll my eyes. They must have started partying hours ago.
“I think I’ll pass,” I say, loud enough for Lyric to hear me. My words don’t really fire her up the way I want them to because the moment I look over at her, I can see her eyes drawing shut and her head tipping to the side.
“Shit!” I cross the room in three strides, catching her before she falls off the edge of the bed. “How much have you had to drink?” I ask as her eyes flicker open.
Her glazed eyes search mine, and the most beautiful, sleepy smile lights up her face. “I’m back, baby,” she says, reaching for my face and caressing it with the lightest touch.
Even in my pissed-off state, I can feel the tingles crawl over my body. For a moment, I imagine we’re back to our happy place, when I would take that beautiful mouth in mine and swallow her moans. And then her eyes stutter closed again, and she relaxes into my arms.
“Whose room is this?” I ask Melanie over my shoulder, but she’s nowhere to be seen. Fuck. I turn to Terese and shake her foot to get her mouth off Derrick’s. “Terese, whose room are we in?”
She shrugs, clearly annoyed that I interrupted. “Mel’s, I think.”
“Do you know where Lyric’s room is?”
Terese shakes her head and leans back into Derrick. “Not sure.” He pulls her beneath him and shoves his tongue down her throat.
I think I’m going to be sick.
Looking back at Lyric, I know I’m fucked. There’s no way I can leave her here, but I can’t exactly take her back to her room if I don’t know where she’s staying.
I curse under my breath. Lyric is weightless in my arms as I carry her out the nearest door and into the hall. As I’m walking toward my room, I steal a glance at her, and my heart thumps erratically in my chest. Her breathing is steady and there’s the smallest smile on her face. I’m not going to lie to myself right now; it feels damn good to be holding her in my arms again. No matter the circumstances, I’m crazy about this girl.
Her eyelashes hover over her cheeks. Her skin is as light and flawless as I remember. I could caress her soft skin for hours. There was a time, not too long ago, when I did just that. The feel of her in my arms is as familiar as the memories of me pressing her against the rooftop wall at the Aragon.
Damn, that was a good night.
I push my door open and carefully carry her to my bed. I lie her down on the sheet so her head is on the pillow. Then I kneel down beside the bed and just stare. Her breathing is deep and even. There’s no way she’s waking up anytime soon.
What the fuck am I supposed to do now?
I scan her body and see her slippers dangling halfway off her feet, so I remove them and set them by the bed. Lyric always gets hot at night and prefers sleeping in her underwear—or in the nude, which was always my vote, so I remove her pants next, careful not to check out her panties. As much as I want to take a gander, I know it’s not healthy for my dick right now. He’s already getting excited. I leave her tank top and bra alone because there’s no way I can deal with that, and then I tuck her body in under the covers.
After peeling off my own clothes and brushing my teeth, I curl up beside her and wrap my arms around her sleeping body. Before I can stop myself, I’m pressing my lips to the soft skin of he
r shoulder. Then I’m running them across her back, breathing her in and remembering how she would shake beneath me as I made her come. Every single time.
I groan into her hair, my balls already aching to the point that I think I might wake her up and make her beg for forgiveness, just to make her come again.
Why am I so pissed again?
Running my hands over my face and through my hair, I let out a frustrated groan. “Fuck.” There’s no way I can sleep next to her tonight.
I slip out of the bed, grab a pillow and blanket from the closet, and throw them on the couch at full force. Tossing one more longing glance over my shoulder at Lyric, there’s only one thing I know.
I’m in hell. Right now. This is hell.
It’s been two hours since I woke up in Wolf’s bed, confused and nursing a hangover, and Wolf is still dead asleep. I don’t dare wake him. Right now, I’ll take what I can get. If that means being as still as a board so that I can watch him sleep for the rest of the day, then so be it. I’ll watch him forever.
He’s usually a restless sleeper, kicking off the covers and reaching for something to hold onto. That something used to be me. Now, he snuggles with his pillow, squishing it so hard the seams just may come undone. One muscular leg hangs over the edge of the couch, and his mouth falls slightly ajar.
He’s totally adorable.
Impatience breaks me a few minutes later after memorizing every detail of his sleeping form. I rip the covers off me, wondering for the hundredth time how I ended up in his hotel room wearing nothing but my underwear and tank top. I climb out of bed, and my toes land on my pants, which are lying on the floor next to the bed. I frown. Wolf must have removed my clothes. Well, not all of them. My top and panties haven’t been touched.
I tip-toe to the couch and pull the pillow from his grasp, careful not to wake him. When I snuggle up beside him, his familiar skin warms mine. I didn’t even realize I was cold before now. He’s quick to wrap me in his arms like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like we were never apart and this is just another normal morning together.