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“Oh. What did she need?”
“She said you have hair and makeup coming in thirty, then a meeting at some radio station in two hours and soundcheck after.”
“Crap. I forgot that’s today.” She goes to get up off the bed, so I help her. She’s adorable with her hair a mess and cheeks flushed—both my doing. I fucking love it.
She putters around the room gathering her white thong and shorts off the floor. My dick gets hard when I see her holding them, memories of last night coming to the forefront of my mind. She must be thinking of it too because her neck begins to splotch. When I catch a glimpse of her face, I realize it’s tense.
Great—she’s freaking out. My brain starts to develop theories as to why. First off, she thought I left this morning, and now I bet she’s wondering where we stand. This is why I usually don’t do relationships. Too complicated. And this relationship is more complicated than most. But that doesn’t stop me from feeling the way I feel right now.
I stride over to her and stop her movements. She stares at me, hazel eyes wide. “Stop worrying. I’m here with you, Birdie girl. I told you I’d stay.”
Her features relax and a smile lifts the corner of her lips. “I wasn’t sure how you would feel this morning. We drank last night…”
I brush my knuckles on her cheek. “Trust me. I didn’t drink nearly enough to not remember or regret anything that happened last night.”
She swallows, her mouth having gone dry. “Me neither.”
“Good.”
There’s a knock on the door and Birdie startles. I lean forward and kiss her forehead. “It’s just room service. I ordered coffee and pancakes.”
A real smile covers her lips now, that cute little dimple appearing on her left cheek. “Pancakes?”
“What, you think I stopped liking pancakes?”
“You never know.”
I grab her hand and pull her toward the main room. “Come on. No time to waste!”
She laughs at me. “You’re chipper this morning.” She’s right, I am chipper. I can’t help it, when I’m around Birdie, my body buzzes. Is this how it felt when I was a teenager, too?
I pull her to me to make sure she feels the hardness of my dick on her plush stomach. She lets out a gasp. “I like being here with you,” I tell her. Shit. I’ve really gone sentimental. Maybe Birdie gives off some type of vulnerability serum.
I kiss her cheek. “Sit. I’ll get the pancakes.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
Reluctantly, I walk away from her warmth, my body literally calling me to go back. It’s another new sensation, and even though it should, it doesn’t scare me. Especially since the last time I felt any sort of tug was with my partner Maria.
Abruptly I’m hit with the realization that last night, though we only slept for a short time, I didn’t have nightmares. I’m feeling refreshed for the first time in weeks, minus the slight headache. I have no doubt that finally coming clean about Dad to Birdie was part of the reason. Maybe next I’ll tell her about my accident, about what happened to Maria. But there’s time to figure that out later.
I quickly retrieve the room service cart and scan the hallway while I’m at it. Once I’m satisfied, I close the door and turn to meet Birdie’s devouring gaze. Immediately my hunger is forgotten and instead I’m hungry for something else. But we don’t have time, her people will be here soon, and I have work I need to get done. Starting with figuring out Shea’s deal and checking in with the Atlanta Police. So, I tell my little brain to chill and wink at Birdie.
“Pancakes?” I ask, pushing the cart in front of her.
Her face lights up. “Thanks for ordering. I would have skipped breakfast and then at some point realized I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday at soundcheck.”
Something in me turns. Does anyone on Birdie’s team make sure she’s taking care of herself? I’ll have to speak with Eric about that. I want to make sure she’s eating and not only drinking coffee and bourbon. Now that Birdie and I made up and… other things, something deep inside has activated. I want to protect her, and not just from her stalker, but from everything.
Well, I’ve got it bad. I can practically hear Ben’s teasing and Wren’s awwing.
With a smirk, I sit down next to Birdie and make sure our legs are touching. I kiss her cheek before I get to work on pouring her a cup of hot coffee. “Still drink it black?” I turn slightly to find her staring at me, a sweet look on her face. “What?” I start feeling shy with her looking at me like that. Like she can see my soul.
“I feel like I’m dreaming. You’re exactly how I imagined when I was sixteen.” She turns splotchy again, embarrassed she just admitted that to me.
I hand her the hot brew. “I’m glad we cleared the air. It feels good to not have it hanging around us.”
“Agreed. Though I think I owe you an apology.”
