I want to call bullshit, but instead, let it drop. Besides, my face already looks like a damn tomato.
“Get packed. You can go with us and we’ll head straight to the hotel.”
I don’t argue; instead, I pack a bag, throwing in toiletries and clothes for a couple of days.
“Don’t worry about forgetting anything. We’re going to get the crew rooms too. The bus will be close by.”
“Do you want me to call and arrange it?” I ask.
“No, Kacen is having Cassidy take care of it. The label will cover it.”
I throw a few more things in my bag and zip it up.
“You forgot something, babe,” he says with a smile.
“What’s that?”
Leaning down, he reaches into my cubby and pulls out my Kindle charger. “Thought you might want to take this too.”
Really? As if he doesn’t make my heart race on a normal day, sweet Cole has to go and remember my Kindle charger. Most men would bitch about their girl “reading all the damn time.”
“Thank you.”
He nods, and I stand and wait for him while he throws a few things into a bag. Once he’s finished, he reaches out and takes mine from me. “I’ll have the crew load this up.”
So I guess I’m getting to see a little of the “spoiled rock star,” but this is still not at all what I expected.
I managed to fold my six-foot-four self into the back of our Suburban. Gavin likes to drive, Tristan called shotgun, and Kacen, of course, wanted to sit with his wife. Not that I’m complaining; I’m not going to make the pregnant girl climb into the back, of course. So here I sit, with Stacy squished beside me. I couldn’t have planned it better if I’d tried. The radio is up, so each of us are having our own conversations.
“You’re all scrunched.” She giggles
I rub my thumb across her knuckles; I can’t be this close to her and not be touching her. She never resists anymore.
“I’m not complaining. I’m scrunched with you.”
“I guess you think that’s a good thing?”
“I do. So tell me, what do you want to do the next couple of days?”
“Cole, it’s your time off. You’ve been working nonstop. Go out, have some fun.”
Here we go. Not exactly how I wanted to have this conversation, but it needs to finally happen. I slouch in the seat and pull her close to me. She’s facing away from me, but my arms are wrapped around her. My lips next to her ear, I start to talk.
“Stacy, I want to be your more. I want to try this with you. I haven’t touched—hell, looked at another woman in months. You consume me. I want you to be my girl. I want to give this a go, see if we can make this work.” I kiss the top of her head.
She doesn’t respond for a long time. Finally, she looks up at me, those green eyes putting me under her spell. “This is real to me, Cole.”
Fuck! This is not where or how I wanted to do this. I move to sit up and she does the same; her back against the seat, I lean over and block us from the view of our friends. I gently cup her face, feeling her soft skin. “Baby, I’ve never been more real about anything in my life. I want this. I want you. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, but whatever it is, being in a relationship, all of that, I want it with you.”
She bites down on her lip and her eyes fill with tears. I’m just about to take it all back, to tell her we can do what we’ve been doing, anything to stop her tears. Until she nods.
“Baby?”
“Okay,” she whispers, as if she’s still uncertain. “Don’t break my heart, Cole.”
Never.
Leaning in, I kiss her, just a soft touch of my lips to hers. I feel tears on my lips.
“Don’t cry, sweets. We’re going to rock this. You and me, okay?”
“Okay,” she says again.
Fuck, I sound like I’m giving her a fucking pep talk before a damn basketball game. She’s going to dump my dumb ass before we get started.
“We’ll take it as fast or as slow as you want, but I want you to be mine. Above all else, I need to know that you’re mine.” I know with all that I am that we will make this work. Failing her, these feelings I have for her, is not an option.
“Okay,” she repeats. This time, a slow smile graces her lips.
She’s mine. That was easier than I thought, but then again, I’ve been showing her every fucking day that she’s all I see.
We pull into the hotel and the paparazzi are ready and waiting. Someone tipped them off, and I’m sure it was Brian fucking Wilson, none other than the CEO of Stone Records.
“Fucking Brian,” Kacen seethes. He’s pissed too.
We want a few nights to just be us. Most of the time, people will leave us alone if we don’t roll in a huge entourage. Unless someone tips them off. We’ve had a feeling it’s been Brian for a while now. It all traces back to him. Jones wouldn’t do that; he’s one of the good guys.