What is she doing to me? This is a first. It goes unsaid, but I know they’re all thinking it. Never have all three of us passed up a night out, especially at the beginning of a tour when we’re fresh. A night here or there, sure, but never all three of us.
“Ladies?” Kacen asks.
“I’m exhausted,” Logan tells him.
“I’m good with staying in as well. What’s in store for tomorrow?” Stacy asks.
“Interviews with the local radio station in the morning, sound check in the afternoon and then the show starts at eight,” Logan rattles off our schedule.
“Sounds like you all have an early morning anyway,” Stacy says.
“Right, well, we’ll see you in the morning.” Kacen, who is standing behind Logan, places his hands on her hips and guides her toward the bedroom.
“I’m going to watch a movie.” Gavin retreats to his bunk.
“Sleep,” Tristan mumbles, following along behind them.
Once again, it’s just the two of us. “What about you, sweets?”
Stacy sits on the couch. “I’m not tired yet. I think I’ll just read for a little while.”
I watch as she reaches into her bag and pulls out her Kindle. “Do you care if I watch TV? Will it bother you? I’m not ready for the bunk just yet.” It’s not a complete stretch of the truth. I’m not ready to leave her, and that’s something that is alarming, but not enough that I ignore the desire to spend more time with her. I like getting to know her, which is a new concept for me.
“Nope. When I’m reading, I can block everything else out.” She settles into the corner of the couch. I reach into the storage cabinet above her and pull out a throw blanket, unfold it, and drape it over her. The smile she gives me makes my heart race. She’s fucking beautiful.
“Thank you, Cole.” Her voice is soft.
I can’t speak, not without begging her to let me inside, so instead, I nod and sit beside her.
I scroll through the channels until I finally settle on the movie Speed. It’s older, but it’s a good one. And it stars Sandra Bullock which is a bonus.
I glue my eyes to the TV—at least, I try. I steal glances at Stacy and she’s oblivious, so engrossed in whatever it is she’s reading. I watch as she bites her lip and, a few pages later, a small smile graces her lip. She’s fully captivated by the world that author has created.
I try to focus on the movie, and it works for about twenty minutes or so, until I hear sniffles. Whipping my head around to look at her, I see tears flowing down her cheeks. Without thinking, I reach out and link my fingers through hers. This gets her attention.
A watery smile greets me as she chuckles through her tears. “Not a word, Hampton,” she warns me.
Refusing to let go of her hand, I turn to face her. My other hand cups her cheek and I wipe away her tears with my thumb. It’s fucking irrational as hell, but I hate seeing her cry. It’s the story, I get it, but that doesn’t mean I like it.
“I don’t like seeing you cry,” I admit.
She chuckles again as more tears fall from her eyes. “I can’t seem to help it. Some of these books, just . . . gut me. I love it, though.”
The tears cause her green eyes to sparkle. “You’re beautiful.” She blushes. This girl . . . she’s not like anyone I’ve ever met.
“How’s your movie?” She pulls her hand from mine and wipes at her cheeks.
I leave my hand where it falls, on her thigh. “I’ve seen it before,” I tell her.
She glances up at the TV. “Yeah, this is an oldie but goodie.”
That smile.
“Are you finished with your book?”
She nods. “Yeah, another happily ever after.”
“With tears?”
“With tears,” she agrees. “It’s the way he loves her.” She blushes at her admission.
“Feel like watching the rest of this with me?” I try to keep from sounding too hopeful. She could sit there and read all damn night for all I care. I just want her to be next to me.
I’m freaked the fuck out, because that is not something I have ever thought about anyone. I don’t like chics to just hang around, and I certainly don’t long to just be in their presence.
These next three months are going to be interesting if this is how it’s going to go.
“I don’t want to cramp your style,” she teases.
I settle back against the couch and raise my arm, inviting her to lie against my chest. It’s only been a couple of times that I’ve done this, all with her, and I crave it.
She places her Kindle back in her bag on the floor and settles against me. I reach down and pull the blanket up over her. Once she’s comfortable, I flick off the lights. We’re now cast in just the glow from the television screen.
Her breathing eventually evens out; peering down, I see that she’s asleep. I hold her a little tighter and close my eyes. My last thought is that a man could get used to this.