by Rae, Rachel
He turned to walk away looking back at me he smiled before saying, “You sure you're ok?”
“Yes sir, I'm ok. Thank you again.”
“Anytime.” He tipped his hat and walked down the stairs.
Where the hell was I going to go? I was kind of afraid to go downstairs to even hail a cab in case he came back. My cell phone started playing the theme to I Love Lucy, my default ringtone. I looked down to see Sloan's name across the screen. I slid the bar across the screen to answer.
“Hey, Sloan.”
“Hey, girl. What are you up to?”
“Oh, packing up to go to a hotel. Drama over here tonight.”
“Hotel? What? I thought Tatum was out of town.”
“Yeah, she's still out of town.” I filled her in on the whole story, and I told her that I was going to stay at a hotel for the night.
“No you're not. I would say you could stay with me, but my boyfriend's parents are in town for a while, and I would not subject you to that torture. Van is out of town with the band doing press and photo shoots. He wouldn’t mind at all.”
Oh my god. No freaking way was I going to stay in Van's penthouse after I'd rejected him. No way.
“Sloan, thank you, but I couldn’t possi—” '
“Nonsense. You can and you will. I will call him and let him know. Seriously, he'll be totally cool with it.”
“But Sloan, really I can—”
“Tinley. You are going to stay at Van's, and that’s final.” She was demanding, yet sweet. I could tell that Sloan didn’t like to hear the word no, and I was sure she probably got her way all the time.
“Now,” she said, “I'm on my way over with my driver. Be there soon.” She hung up abruptly.
I stood there, staring at the phone. I threw some clothes and toiletries in my bag and grabbed my phone charger and e-reader. I paced back and forth contemplating leaving and just going to the hotel. I mean, was I really going to stay in his apartment? That was just odd. Since I spent forever considering my options, time to ditch her ran out, and Sloan called to let me know that she was downstairs. She asked if I wanted her driver to come walk me down, but I declined.
I got downstairs, walked out the door, and over to the black Mercedes sitting at the curb.
An older man got out and walked around to my side. He smiled as he opened my door.
I smiled back, thanking him as I climbed in the seat next to Sloan.
She looked flawless as always in designer jeans, a royal blue pleated shirt, and a white blazer.
She gave me a hug and pecked me on both cheeks as I'd seen countless elite people do.
“Tinley. Are you sure you're ok?”
“Yes, I'm fine, really. Thank you. But really, Sloan, you can just take me to the hotel down the street. I Googled, and there’s one less than a block from here.”
“Tinley, you are going to Van's. I want you to be comfortable and safe. He has security and everything.”
I sighed. “And he's ok with me just staying in his house while he’s gone?”
“I couldn’t get a hold of him for some reason but don’t worry, I've spoken to Carl, the head of security at the building, and he's aware and waiting on us.”
“Oh. Ok.” This all seemed too big of a deal. I really didn’t want to put anyone out.
On the ride to Brooklyn, I was quiet as I tried to listen to Sloan fill me in on her boyfriend's mother and how much of an anal bitch she was, but all the while my thoughts kept going back to Van and how I kind of wished I had taken him up on that date offer.
It was weird to be in Van Rock God's enormous newly remodeled guest bathroom about to take a bath. It felt odd, but at the same time, it felt kind of comforting. I just hoped he didn’t come home early.
Sloan had tried texting and calling Van numerous times while we drove to the house, but he was still not answering or texting back. Carl, head of security or something like that, was a pleasant but humongous man who actually scared me a little. He was so nice and his eyes were so gentle, that I felt instantly at ease. He walked us into the Penthouse and made sure all was secure. Sloan made sure I was settled before she left. Once she was gone, I felt very odd being in his home. I had ultimately rejected him. I tried to remind myself that he was out of town and that she said he would be ok with it, especially under the circumstances.
I slid the bar on my iPhone and clicked on the music icon. I selected some old school Toni Braxton, my favorite, and put my headphones on. I dipped my toes in the water. Scalding hot, just the way I liked it. I lay in the tub and closed my eyes, jamming out and singing to Toni for God knows how long, because the water was pretty cold. I opened my eyes just as the door flew open. I screamed and then locked eyes with that sexy rock god I may or may not have been thinking about while singing love song after love song. Goodness, I was lame.
He stared at me for a second but was a total gentleman, because he didn’t even allow his eyes to roam over me. Damn it.
He looked away muttering an apology and slammed the door behind him.
Oh. My. God.
I felt like a total fool and jumped out of my not so relaxing bath. Stupidly realizing that I had left my clothes in the guest bedroom. Nice, Tinley. Good thing it was just next door.
Luckily, Van's towels were huge, and quite comfy, I might add. I grabbed a giant white towel and wrapped it around myself a few times, and then I opened the door and peeked my head around looking for any trace of him. None.
I hurriedly walked to the bedroom, closing the door behind me. I grabbed my black yoga pants and a vintage Astroworld t-shirt. There goes my bra-less evening. I brushed my hair and threw it up haphazardly in a clip. I grabbed my phone and my bag and walked to the elevator to head downstairs, so I could apologize and then leave.
I got to the elevator feeling like an intruder and decided to take the stairs instead.
When I entered the living room, Van sat on the couch, drinking a Guinness, staring out the window with a puzzled look on his face. He looked immaculate. He wore dark jeans with a brown belt and a deep gray thermal shirt. His shaggy hair looked pristine, styled in a messy faux-hawk. He looked positively yummy.
He looked up when he heard me step onto the hardwood floors at the bottom of the stairs. The gray eyes were even more distinct with that shirt. He stood up and shook his head.
“Tinley. I am so sorry. I got home early, and I heard someone belting out some tunes. I had no idea where the hell it was coming from.” He smiled that thousand-watt perfect smile, making my embarrassment fade a little.
“Oh my gosh, Van. No, I'm the sorry one. I had an issue at our apartment, and Tatum is gone, and Sloan insisted I stay here. Really, I was going to go to a hotel, but your sister is pretty persistent and wouldn’t take no for an answer. She said she was texting you and calling you to make sure it was ok. I'm sorry. I'll get out of your hair. So sorry,” I said heading toward the front door.
“Wait.” Van started walking toward me. “You don’t have to be sorry. At. All. I lost my cellphone at some point today and didn’t realize it until just a little while ago. I haven’t had time to get a new one yet. Hold on. What happened at your apartment?”
“Some guy, one of Tatum's one night stands or whatever, decided to be a crazy stalker, and he came banging on our door and trying to break it down. She's out of town,” I said shivering. That really was some scary shit.
He grabbed me and gave me a hug. He cupped my face and looked me up and down, rubbing his thumbs along my cheeks. His tall frame towered over me. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”
I laughed a small laugh. “No, I was about to call the police when our super came and kicked him out. I'm ok. Thank you.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. What the fuck? Did you get a good look at him? Do you know who he is?” he said pacing and rubbing his face in frustration.
“Umm, no.”
“Well, you're not going back there. You're staying here until Tatum gets back, and then we'l
l get you two into another apartment.”
“Van. I can’t—” I started, but he cut me off with a kiss to my forehead.
“No. I'm serious, Tinley. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
He looked at me intently, and my knees started to buckle.
“Ok.” I said. My voice meek.
“Ok. All right. Now that we've established that, when does Tatum get back?”
“Thursday. But Van...”
“Sweetness...” he warned.
I flushed, and then I got kind of irritated. “So, what? You just expect me to live here with you for four days?” I crossed my arms across my chest for emphasis.
He smirked that delicious smirk. “Of course, I do. Now, come on. You must be hungry. Come sit down. Chinese will be here soon.”
“You ordered me food?” I asked incredulously.
“Of course, I did.” He sat down and patted the seat next to him gesturing me to sit down.
I stood there shocked. Who did this guy think he was making me stay here and ordering me food? It was sweet and kind of hot. Just being near him had my stomach flipping and desire coursing through me. I had never felt this way around a guy. Ever. I wasn’t sure how I would keep my raging hormones in check while I stayed here, but I was damn sure going to try.
I sat next to him on the couch, and he draped a blanket over me.
I smiled at him, and he grinned down at me.
He took a swig of his beer and clicked a button on a remote, and the immense mirror hanging on the far wall adjacent from the couch started changing into a baseball game.
“Wow, that’s freakin’ awesome,” I said in awe.
Van laughed. “Yeah, I don’t like to spend money unless it’s on electronics or real estate. I thought this was a mandatory purchase.”
“Um, yeah.”
The doorbell rang, and Van went to answer it. I felt safe with him. Why did I judge him like I had? He was always so nice to me. Weren’t rock stars supposed to be man whores? He hadn't brought a girl home tonight, so maybe he wasn’t that big of one. Or maybe he already had one somewhere before he came home.
He walked back into the living area holding a huge brown sack and two drinks.
I smiled and grabbed the drinks from his arms.
“I didn’t know what you liked, so I just got a bunch of different stuff.”
“Oh yeah? That’s great. Thanks. I'm pretty easy to please.” As soon as I said it, I felt the innuendo hanging in the air.
“I bet you are.” He grinned at me before rummaging through the bags to set out the food.
I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped me.
We sat down to eat, and he handed me the remote.
“Sorry. You can turn on your housewives or Teen Mom or whatever you want.” He smiled as he crunched into an eggroll.
Damn, he was even sexy when he was being a messy eater.
I turned it to Dumb and Dumber. A movie I was sure he would like. Who didn’t like Dumb and Dumber? We started to laugh uncontrollably when we both started to quote a particularly hilarious part of the movie where they pee in beer bottles while driving down the road. He was so easy to be around. I suddenly found myself staring at him while he laughed and twirled Lo Mein around his fork. He put the fork to his lips and looked at me. I could see the desire in his eyes, and I knew mine looked the same. I wanted him. I wanted him now.
He dropped his fork and grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me to him—oh so slowly. He licked his lips as his eyes darted from my eyes to my mouth. My breathing picked up, and my stomach was fluttering. He smelled so good. Like Chinese food, beer and soap. He brought his lips to mine and gently licked my bottom lip. A moan escaped me as he bit and sucked on it ever so lightly. I opened my mouth, and his tongue slipped in to tangle with mine. He groaned, and his tongue grew more urgent inside my mouth. His hands moved from the back of my neck to the small of my back under my shirt. He started rubbing circles there as he kissed me. His lips moved from my mine to gently suckle and kiss my neck. I moaned embarrassingly loud. He edged from my neck to my collarbone and placed small kisses all over it. I was getting so worked up by just this little bit of action that I was sure, if we kept going, I would give up the goods. No. Way.
I placed my palms on his chest pushing him away gently.
Breathlessly, I whispered, “Van. I can’t do this. I'm sorry.”
He instantly backed up looking apologetic, and a little hurt. “I apologize. I thought you…”
“I did—I do. It's just—I don’t really know you, Van. I thought we were going to get to know each other.”
“You're right. I'm sorry. I got carried away. You just looked so fucking sexy, and I just wanted to get lost in you.”
“It wasn’t just you,” I smiled.
He smiled a smile so perfectly sweet that my womb contracted, and I instantly wanted to punch myself in the face for stopping him.
He gently kissed me on the forehead, before getting up and carrying the trash from our dinner over to the kitchen.
I was suddenly very tired.
He walked back over to the couch as I yawned a huge yawn. He lightly put a hand under my knees and one around my waist and hoisted me up, carrying me as if I were something precious. We rode the elevator as I laid my head on his shoulder. I wanted to glue myself to him just like this. He smelled so good. He was so warm and strong. I was seriously getting in over my head. I barely knew this man.
When we got to the second floor, he opened the door to the guest room and, ever so lightly, he placed me on my feet next to the bed. He pulled back the covers and motioned for me to lie down. I did, and as I placed my head on the pillow and got comfortable, he covered me up and leaned in, kissing my forehead, then giving me a small kiss on the lips. He walked to the door and switched off the light and whispered, “Goodnight, Sweetness,” as he closed the door behind him. I was out before I could even admire how adorable that was.
I woke up, and I was startled as I remembered where I was. The guest room was as sparse as the master bedroom. All that stood in the plain room was the king sized bed I was very comfortably wrapped up in.
I instantly replayed last night in my head. That kiss was more than amazing. My heart ached at remembering the tender way he carried me to bed, and tucked me in. I laid there for a minute playing it over and over in my head, second for second.
I went into the guest bathroom, remembering to bring my clothes with me this time. I took a quick bath, and wrapped a towel around myself. I put on a little bit of makeup so I would look half-presentable and then I put on the only clothes I had brought with me when I threw my bag together. My favorite low-rise jeans, my best-loved t-shirt, and some flip-flops and then walked downstairs. Little nervous bubbles played in my stomach as I rode the elevator down to the main floor.
I saw Van sitting at the counter eating a huge, and I mean like, you could fit four full sized salads in it, bowl of cereal filled to the brim. What was it with guys and cereal? James always ate cereal. Anytime of day. And here was Van munching on some cocoa puffs like there was no tomorrow. For some reason though, seeing Van in his gray pajama pants hanging low on his hips, bringing out the intensity of gray in his irises, barefoot, and wearing a worn Michael Jackson shirt made me instantly warm. It felt a little too normal. Too comfortable, too perfect. He smiled that panty dropping smile at me, and he quirked his eyebrows down to my chest, his eyes dancing in amusement.
Instantly, I felt a wave of mortification. I bought the shirt from one of my favorite book blogs, because I was so obsessed with novels about bad boys and rock stars. It was adorable under normal circumstances, but I was actually in a rock star's house, and now he was smirking at my choice of attire. The “My heart belongs to rock stars and bad boys” V-neck tee that clung to my ample chest was the center of his attention. Was I ever going to gain any cool points around this dude?
“Like your shirt, Sweetness,” he chuckled around a mouth full of cereal.
I blushed and looked away mumbling sarcastically, “Oh, Lord. Thanks, Van. I really need to change. I didn’t even realize.”
“You are not changing, babe. That is hot.” He looked me up and down.
I blushed even more as he assessed my body. “Seriously hot,” he grunted as he drank the last of the milk from the bowl. Men.
He stood up, and placed his bowl in the sink before turning around to face me, bracing his hands behind him on the counter. “You hungry?
I shook my head. I hated breakfast. It may be the most important meal of the day, but just the thought of eating it so early made me want to puke.
“So, do you have plans for today?” he asked.
I stood by the counter he had just got up from, staring at the way he walked, the way he moved, and just how freaking insanely gorgeous he was, especially in the early morning in only his pajamas. Damn.
He smirked as he noticed me admiring him.
“I—uh—actually, no. I took off the week so I could run through my songs and lines before real rehearsals start next week.”
“Oh, so other than rehearsing, you're free all week?” he asked, hopeful.
My belly fluttering even more at the look on his face, I answered, “Yep, I'm wide open.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I flinched at the serious insinuation yet again.
Wow, Tinley, you are on a roll, dumbass.
He chuckled and walked over to the far side of the counter and placed his palms over the backs of my hands. “You don’t always have to get so shy around me. How are you ever going to get to know me, and I you, if you're worried about me seeing the real you. You are so adorable, Sweetness. Come on, Southern Belle, I want to take you somewhere.” He grabbed my hands and led me to the couch.
“Stay here, I'll go change, and I’ll be right back.”
“Ok,” I said and sat down on the couch.
When he came back, he looked even better than before, if that were possible.
A guy as breathtaking as Van could wear a trash bag, and women would still throw themselves at his feet. He wore a black VW hat, which I thought was pretty clever since the Volkswagon logo was his initials. He had on the same gray Michael Jackson tee from before with jeans and flip-flops. As he got closer to me, I smelled his cologne. He didn’t wear too much, just a hint, and it was yummy. So masculine and edgy. “You smell good,” I said smiling.