“All right. Time’s up. The guys have got to get ready to go on stage. Thanks for coming. Enjoy the show,” Lila rambled, ushering the lingering fans out the door.
The moment the door closed behind them, Dawson made good on his promise to Lila. And he continued to fulfill every loving and dirty vow he’d made the rest of the night and every day after that as I toured with the guys…
AS MY EYES focused back on my computer screen and the image that said so much more than I ever even realized, my fingers traced my lips, remembering the way he used to brand them with his.
Would I ever stop missing it? Missing him?
♪ I’ll Still be Loving You by Restless Heart
CHAPTER 22
DAWSON
♪ Try Again by Kip Moore
T he days were starting to run together. Every day was roughly the same. Wake up, surf—sometimes the strange girl was hiding in the dunes—work on the song—sometimes with the guys, sometimes alone—interview people for positions within our newly formed record label, hold my breath as I check the mail, fall asleep to some memory of Izzy and the life I used to have, contemplate how to win her back, wake up, rinse and repeat.
Today, a colored envelope bearing a New York postmark appeared in the post office box we’d set up for our fan mail. I made myself wait until I got home before I ripped it open.
It was from her. Same magazine-ravaged words. More photo puzzle pieces. Sucking in a deep breath, I went to the table and unfolded the note all the way.
Dear Universe,
Tell Dawson he’s mine.
This is his sign.
He’ll see in time.
Love,
Me
AFTER THE GUYS had helped the other day, all the pieces of the photograph puzzle had been fastened to poster board with tape. It was incredibly difficult to assemble a puzzle without an image to guide us. But with their assistance, I could definitely see it was a photo from France. The pieces were arriving, allowing me to fill in the picture from the outside in. I could only guess as to what the focal point of it would be, me, because so far none of the pieces had people in them at all. My stomach turned, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at the new pieces of the puzzle.
Was she really just some obsessed fan? Or was she deranged and dangerous?
We hadn’t put security in place officially yet. We wanted Joe, and Joe had a few weeks left on his contract with our old label. He knew us. He was the best. I was willing to wait for him to be available to hire his team. So, I’d become extra vigilant—letting everyone know where I was, keeping the alarm set, shutting the blinds in the house, parking my car in the garage, looking over my shoulder, and not sharing anything on social media about my whereabouts. Some days it felt like overkill. But on a day like today, as I stared down at the myriad of colored magazine words glued to paper, it felt very necessary.
The walls were closing in. The air was thickening around me, making it hard to draw in a good breath. I opened the patio door and stepped out onto my deck, drawing in a lungful of salty ocean air. My head instantly cleared. Leaning on the railing, I peered in the narrow space between the two houses that were oceanfront. I could just make out the crashing waves. Watching them roll in calmed me. With each receding wave, a bit of my anxiety washed away.
I contemplated going inside to grab my guitar. I knew playing would ease my mind the rest of the way. Turning, I moved towards the door. Before I could twist the knob, the hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention, and a chill went down my spine. I stiffened as my ears strained for any sound other than the distant sea. Nothing out of the ordinary filtered in. I spun around slowly, cautiously looking around. Someone was out there watching me. I could feel it. Wasting no time, I went in the house and locked the door.
I grabbed my cell phone and dialed up my best friend. “Want to come hang out?” I huffed out anxiously.
“Sure, man. I’ll be there in fifteen.” Thankfully, Brooks knew me well enough to know something was bothering me without bombarding me with questions. I’d never thanked him for being my rock when everything in my life went to hell. I needed to remedy that tonight.
In no time, Brooks was ringing my doorbell. “’Sup, man,” he said as he pulled me into a one-armed greeting. That small gesture brought me a measure of comfort I hadn’t even known I needed.
When I didn’t answer, he shrugged and followed me to the kitchen. Wordlessly, I handed over the latest piece of stalker mail. A low whistle emitted from his lips when he finished reading. His eyes immediately went to the fractured photo.
“No new pieces in the envelope?”
“I haven’t pulled them out yet. After I read the note, I started getting dizzy and lightheaded, so I went on the porch for some air. And someone was out there, dude.” I stuffed my trembling hands into the loose pockets of my lounge pants. I didn’t want Brooks to notice how shaken I really was.
“You saw someone?” His brow arched in disbelief.
I knew it was implausible that someone could spy on me with the fence and hedges protecting the property. Plus, it was dusk, and with the fog rolling in from the ocean, visibility was poor. But damn it, I wasn’t losing my mind.
Stalking to the fridge, I grabbed two bottles. “No, but I felt someone watching me.”
After handing Brooks one of them, I twisted the top off mine. I guzzled half of the ice-cold liquid. Setting the bottle on the counter, I swiped my arm across my mouth, collecting the water droplets that clung to my lips. Man, I wished it was beer. That would help calm my nerves. But I didn’t keep alcohol in the house anymore.
“You’re Dawson Anderson. Someone’s always watching you.” He took a swig of his water.
“True. After all this time being in the spotlight and living under a microscope, I’ve learned to ignore those kinds of eyes on me. You know what I mean. This was different though. It gave me bad vibes or something. I can’t explain it.” I shook my head, trying to shake away the uneasiness that settled in my gut.
I paced the floor and ran my fingers through my hair. “Anyway, I came inside and called you.”
“Let’s see what pieces the sicko sent this time.”
He settled at the table and shook the envelope, sending the pieces fluttering to the wooden surface. I didn’t touch them. I had this weird idea that by touching them, I was giving her some sort of psychic link to me. This girl was freaking me the eff out. As Brooks maneuvered the slips of paper around, I turned my back, unable to watch.
“Looks like the pieces today are from different parts of the photo. We’ve got a bit of water, probably from the pool. Then there’s something that might be the edge of flowers or something pink. And a scrap of blue jeans. Not much useful. But she’s running out of leftover pieces, so soon you’ll have the whole picture,” he filled me in since I had yet to turn back around.
Turning slowly, I looked down at the pieces that now floated in the empty space, just waiting for something to connect with. Foreboding filled me. I couldn’t put my finger on why exactly, but something about Brooks’ description didn’t sit right.
Brooks looked up into my face, concern filling his expression. “I think you need to see if we can get Joe lining up a team before he’s officially ready to take over. Dude, there’s no way we can show up at Elle’s show in a few weeks for taping without our own security.”
“Crap, you’re right. That had totally slipped my mind.”
Yanking out my phone, I tapped out a quick message to Joe and asked him to get up with me tomorrow about moving forward with hiring a security team for him to lead.
Sliding his chair back, Brooks stood. “Let’s work on the song. You look like you could use a distraction.”
“I totally could.”
We went downstairs to the soundproof room and let the music take us away. After we’d perfected “Dear Universe”, we started to work on some of the songs we’d written together over the years. Songs that had been pushed aside by our old label.
&
nbsp; In addition to the whole album we were planning to release next, there were countless songs we thought would never see the light of day. Anytime we played one of our creations for the label execs, they said the songs didn’t fit the image they’d invested all their time and money into creating for the band. The songs we wrote had too much feeling in the lyrics. The sound was very much us—gritty, raw and rocking—but the words weren’t. The melodies of our creations ranged from happy and catchy to desperate and torn. But our chart toppers, the songs that cemented our band into a niche forever, were songs purchased for us. They were superficial songs about living for the party, life in the fast lane, being out of control and adrenaline rushes. Nothing real or substantial. Now that we weren’t bound by their expectations of our sound, we could really explore who we were as artists.
“I was thinking we should see about teaming up with that orchestra again sometime. That Christmas special was epic and sold like hotcakes,” Brooks said as he fiddled with the strings on his bass.
“You mean Trans-Siberian?” I asked.
“Yeah. It was so much fun playing with them. Adding all those instruments to our sound was surreal. Made the songs so much fuller.”
I nodded as my mind flitted back to the other surreal things that happened in my life during that time…
WE’D BEEN TOURING for what felt like forever. I tried to be grateful. I was living my dream. But the dream had changed when Izzy and I decided to be more than friends. When we decided to be everything.
For three years, we’d been navigating being an us while the band soared to fame. Chasing my dream carried me further and further from home and caused me and Izzy to have to spend more time apart than together. It was hard. Harder than I ever imagined. Never more difficult than at the moment though, with Christmas just a week away and me stuck in Paris with band obligations until New Year’s while Izzy was home in South Carolina.
♪ Christmas Without You by One Republic
I WAS in a funk and had been since we arrived in the City of Love two days ago. As the elevator doors closed behind me, I was finally able to drop the cheerful façade I’d worn for our concert tonight. As much as the other guys and the staff begged, I just couldn’t find enough goodwill to tolerate the after-party. I had a date to FaceTime with my girl, and nothing was going to stand in my way. Joe stood in the corner with a smirk on his face as he escorted me up to my suite.
“What?” I growled at him. I’d hit the level of miserable where I wanted everyone around me to join me in my wallowing.
“Five minutes, dude. You’re going to hear her voice in five minutes. Calm down and find a smile in there somewhere for her. She doesn’t deserve your pissy attitude,” Joe scolded. He had a soft spot for Izzy, turned into a big teddy bear whenever she was around.
Sheepishly, I cast my eyes to the floor. He was right. It wasn’t the band’s fault or Joe’s or Izzy’s that I was stuck halfway around the world, away from the only person who mattered to me. I had to suck it up. Seeing her face, even on a screen, would heal some of the hurt in my heart. And maybe after sharing a few digital orgasms, I’d be in a better mood. They certainly wouldn’t hurt.
Joe took out his phone and tapped away for a few seconds, probably checking in with the rest of the security team. A glance at my own phone told me I had one minute to make it to my room before Izzy would be calling. The digital display of the elevator’s progress revealed I wasn’t going to make it. Damnit. I’d have to talk to her on my phone, rather than my computer. I really needed more than a tiny screen filled with her beautiful face.
Finally, the elevator slowed, and the doors slid open just as my phone went off in my hand. “See you tomorrow, Joe,” I said as I walked away from him.
“Have a good night, Dawson,” he responded as he stationed himself right outside the elevator.
Someone from the security team would stand guard to make sure no one got off on our floor who wasn’t on the list. Personally, I thought the label was being overly cautious. But a few years ago, one of their other bands had a stalking incident go bad. Very bad. Now they took no chances.
I swiped my finger across the screen to answer Izzy’s call. Her smile dazzled me. “Hey, Daw. How was the show?”
“It’s so good to see your face, baby. The show was good. I’m on my way back to my room now.” I picked up my pace, eager to be behind my own closed door.
“You skipped the party?” her voice was incredulous.
“Of course. I have a date with the girl who’s stolen my heart.” I gave her a wink.
“Should I let you go, so you can meet up with her?” she teased.
And just like that, my bad mood evaporated and was replaced with the lightness only Izzy could provide. With my key in hand, I inserted the card until the lights turned green and the lock clicked. I entered the darkened living room. Once inside, I toed off my shoes and stepped further into my suite. Not bothering to turn on the lights, I moved to the chair by the balcony and sank into it. My lips tipped up as I catalogued everything about her—the sparkle in her eyes in the dim lighting of her room, the pink of her cheeks, her messy colorful curls piled up on top of her head like she often did for bed, the thin strap of her sleep tank top, the white pillow propped behind her, the huge smile on her lips.
“Are you already in bed?” I asked. “What time is it there?”
Her eyes glanced offscreen. “It’s six in the evening. Not even the same day you’re on yet. But yeah, I’m in bed. I thought we could pretend it was bedtime for both of us.” She waggled her eyebrows at me. It should’ve been comical since it was so out of character for her, but the implication made the look so sexy on her.
I swallowed hard. “What about your parents? Aren’t they downstairs?” As much as I wanted to get naked and get off with my girl, I knew how loud she could get. I’d never be able to face her parents again if they heard us.
“Don’t worry about them. They’re not around right now.” She shifted a little on the bed.
I breathed a sigh of relief. “How about we get more comfortable, then?” I said, leaning forward and grabbing a fistful of my shirt behind my head. For some reason, whenever I took my shirt off that way, it got Izzy all hot and bothered. And I wanted her all hot and bothered.
Her sharp intake of breath let me know I was succeeding. “Why does it feel like I haven’t seen your skin in forever?” she whispered.
“Because every day we’re apart feels like an eternity. I’m so sorry I’m not home for Christmas, flutterby.” Try as I might, I couldn’t keep the sorrow and regret out of my voice.
Tears glistened in her eyes, and her throat bobbed as she tried to swallow down her emotions. I recognized the signs. I’d watched Izzy fight to be strong her whole life. My own throat tightened, and my heart ached.
“Why don’t you show me where you’re staying so I can picture it better?” she asked, changing the subject.
I stood, panning the phone around.
“Where’s that door lead to?” she asked curiously.
“My bed for the next, like, week and a half.” I turned the phone back towards me. “My cold, lonely bed.” I pouted.
“Show me,” she whispered huskily. “So, I can picture you in it.”
Anxious as always to give her what she wanted, I moved to the door and turned the knob. I frowned initially when light filtered from inside the room. I knew I’d turned it off when I left for the concert venue earlier.
As soon as I got the door all the way opened, my own shirtless image filled the screen, framed by an ornate doorframe. I dropped my phone to the floor in shock as my mind tried to make sense of the mirage beyond the doorway.
“What are you doing here?” I choked out.
“Surprise. You couldn’t come home for Christmas, so home came to you.” Her face softened as her eyes drank me in.
“How did you get in here?” I wasn’t a hundred percent sure she was real. Maybe someone had drugged me at the venue, and I was hallucinating.
“With some help from your bodyguard.” She giggled at my dumbfounded expression.
“Remind me to give Joe a raise,” I said as I dove onto the bed and kissed her passionately.
We became a tangle of lips and limbs, trying to tear each other’s clothes off. My brain screamed for me to slow down, to savor the moment. But my raging cock wouldn’t listen.
When her skin was wonderfully bare to me, I dragged my lips down her abdomen on a quest to the holy grail. Before I could reach my destination, her fingers gripped my hair and tugged sharply.
“Later,” she pleaded. “I need you inside me. Now.”
Normally, I prided myself on keeping a tight leash on my own needs. Making love to Izzy after a lengthy separation was always an exercise in extreme patience. Embedding my touch in every cell of her body, reacquainting myself with each and every one of her pleasure points, memorizing every instant of that initial reunion.
This time though, the desperation in her voice snapped my restraint like it was no more than a gossamer thread trying to contain a tornado. I allowed her to pull my face back to hers. Normally gentle fingers scratched my abdomen in their frantic mission to strip me of my jeans. Once the button and zipper were unfastened, Izzy shoved my pants and boxers down in one violent shove. My body strained towards hers. With a little help from me, she finally got me naked.
Bracing myself on my elbows, I hovered over the most beautiful thing in my world, my own Christmas miracle. I stared at her in amazement and disbelief for several long moments. Outside the window, the City of Love was dressed for Christmas. Its decorations cast a festive glow through the glass, bathing Izzy’s flesh in a scattered pattern of emerald and scarlet. It was hypnotizing.
♪ Crimson and Clover by Tommy James and the Shondelles
Her gentle caress along my torso made me shiver. Strong, sexy legs wrapped around my hips, drawing me slowly closer to home. A moment of infinity encased us as I joined our bodies in that timeless expression of love and passion.
Notes of the Heart: Book 2 of the Lyrical Odyssey Rock Star Series Page 28