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“Only if you want to.”
I smile or at least I think I do. Bernard doesn’t exactly give me a countdown, and I’m nervous. He hands Alex a slip of paper and then goes back to working on his computer. I reach for Alex’s hand while we wait for the elevator. But even his touch isn’t enough to calm the jitters.
“Stop fidgeting.” That’s easy for Alex to say. He’s familiar with everyone we’re about to encounter. He’s not meeting Liam Page. Maybe I’m not either, but knowing he’ll be in the room . . . like, what?
“I can’t help it.”
“Why are you nervous?”
I give him my best, “are you kidding me?” look, staring blankly at him like he should know. He shakes his head and chuckles under his breath. The elevator door opens, but instead of stepping in, he tugs on my hand to follow him.
Alex and I walk down the hallway, although I feel like I’m shuffling my feet in an attempt to keep up. He pushes me into a small alcove. It’s private and odd. Why is there a random alcove down the hallway of an apartment building?
“Take a deep breath.” Alex’s hands are on arms, near my shoulders. He squeezes the muscles there lightly. “Noah’s my teammate. I hang out with him and Peyton a lot. Although, she scares me.”
“What? Why?” I’m so confused. How can a man of his stature be scared of someone like Peyton. I’ve seen her, she looks harmless.
“She could break my career into pieces if she chose to.”
“Really?
Alex nods and his expression turns grim. “Yep. She has this uncanny ability to break down a game and expose a weakness you’re not even aware of. Coach trusts everything she says.”
“Huh.”
Alex gives me a little shake. “So, are you good?”
I shake my head. “You’ve met a lot of famous people, right?”
He shrugs. “I guess.”
“Right. You see, I haven’t met anyone famous at all. In fact, I have blinders on when it comes to celebrities. One could be standing next to me, and I’d have no idea. So, the fact that we’re about to go to a gathering and a famous rockstar is going to be there—I’m freaking out a bit.”
The realization strikes Alex instantly. His mouth drops open and then shuts. “Sorry, I forget sometimes.”
My eyes widen and I give him my best, “duh,” face. “You’re used to it. I’m not.”
“You must know famous authors?”
“Not really,” I tell him. “Most authors are recluses. They prefer to stay behind their computers. And honestly, they’re normal people. You wouldn’t know someone’s an author until you started talking to them. It’s not like Stephen King wears a banner that says ‘Hey, I wroteIT.’ Your friend group is on TV all the time.” And making sexy gyrating music videos. But I don’t say that to Alex.
“Point taken. How can I make this easier?”
“Don’t leave my side?”
“Never.” Alex’s hands drop. One rests on my waist, and the other on my thigh, near my ass. I step closer. Maybethisis what the alcove is for—secret rendezvous and whatnot. hoping the latter hand will move and touch me a bit and move my hands up his chest slowly. I love the feel of his well-defined muscles under my fingertips. I lick my lips in anticipation of us kissing.
“Kiss me,” my words come out in a whisper.
“Stop tempting me,” he says in an equally hushed sound. “When we get home. I promise.”
He said when we gethome. Not back to his house or to mine. The nervousness I already feel increases tenfold. I like Alex and I can’t complain about the sex, but I’m nowhere near the level of commitment needed to call his house my home.
It’s way too early in our relationship.
“Did I say something wrong?” he asks. I hadn’t realized my expression or demeanor changed. I shake my head.
“No, not at all.”
