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1 Listen to “I Was Made for Loving You” by Tori Kelly and Ed Sheeran on Spotify
ChapterThirty
Cassie tapped the end of her pen on her notebook and looked across the living room of the bus to where Zac sat with his guitar.
On the face of it, things seemed to have gone back to the way they were before the two of them had slept together. She still sat up with him, writing in her notebook, while he and his bandmates poured their hearts into trying to finish their album. She still watched him perform every night and ensured his instruments and equipment were working perfectly. She still enjoyed his presence a little too much. But now her skin remembered the touch of his hands, her body remembered how it felt having him inside her. And her heart… Her heart remembered how it had tripped and stumbled when he’d told her about his father. It remembered the look in his eyes as they sang together on that little karaoke stage—when she’d almost believed the words they were singing. She hadn’t been the only one. Several people recording that night had uploaded the video, and it had gone viral, resulting in renewed media attention on theirrelationship.
Cassie couldn’t bring herself to watch it. She didn’t want to see what everyone else must have seen on her face as she sang. She knew developing feelings for Zac was a terrible idea. He was completely focused on his music, to the exclusion of everything else. He didn’twantanything else. He’d told her that, and she believed him. After all, she’d met his parents. Having grown up with their example, she could understand how he wouldn’t want to replicate it. But it hurt her to think he’d given up on love. That he’d convinced himself there was no value in it. Even though evidence of its beauty surrounded him every day, with his bandmates’ relationships.
Zac channeled all his emotions into his music, but was that enough? Could that ever be enough to have a fulfilling life?
Now, they were sitting together on the bus once more. She watched him, cradling the guitar in his arms, a small half-smile on his face at something one of his bandmates had said on his screen. Her heart tumbled in her chest. She swallowed and willed herself to stay focused on her notebook.
But stubbornly, her mind went straight back to him.
It was funny, really. They had so much in common, yet they were so different. Neither of them had grown up with much—or any—love from their parents. He had his sister, but he’d spent his youth protecting her, not being supported by her. Both he and Cassie had grown up without a good example of a loving relationship. But he’d shunned the whole idea of love, and she’d thrown herself into the dream of knights in shining armor, soul mates, and happily ever afters. She’d believed in the fairy tale.
But maybe he had the right idea.
Maybe expecting true love that lasted foreverwasa child’s daydream. Maybe you were better off finding something you loved and throwing yourself wholeheartedly into it. Maybethatpassion was what would keep you warm at night, not the familiar body of a lover lying next to you.
Her pen was poised over the page, but her hand didn’t move. Her mind was blank.
She found her eyes back on Zac. She could hear raised voices coming from his phone. They were having a heated discussion about something. Some lyric they didn’t agree on. A chord change one of them thought didn’t fit. He was listening, no longer smiling. A line etched between his brows. He said a few words, and there was silence from the other end of the phone. Then, a few words from them, a nod from Zac, and whatever argument they were having was over.
He always came across as calm and collected—so in control of every situation. How did he do it? She always felt like she was teetering on the edge of one emotional cliff after another. The only time she’d ever seen him slip was when he’d kissed her, when he’d touched her in the hotel room, when he’d screwed her like a groupie in the back of the plane.
At least, that’s how she should have felt about what had happened.
But it hadn’t felt like that at the time. It didn’t now, either. She didn’t know why. Maybe it had been the way he’d looked at her, the way he’d been so focused on her, the intensity in those beautiful eyes. Or maybe it was how his touch had made her body come alive in a way she didn’t think it ever had before.
She watched him push his hair off his forehead, the muscles of his forearm flexing. Her gaze traced over the width of his shoulders, admiring the way his T-shirt stretched over his broad chest.
Heat pulsed through her.
She wasn’t supposed to want him.
But she did.
She wanted his touch. She wanted to come alive under his hands.
She wanted him to lose control again. She wanted to be the one who made it happen.
Cassie watched, heart crashing against her ribs, as he said goodbye and disconnected the call. She’d never done anything like what she was contemplating before. She’d never had to. She didn’t even know if she’d be able to.
This wasn’t the right time or place for what she wanted. But need suddenly had its claws in her. She needed something. Something to hold on to for the rest of the tour—for when she was alone again.
He looked up, and their eyes met. A hint of a smile flickered and died on his lips. He must have noticed something on her face because his gaze sharpened.
Cassie slid her notebook off her lap and stood, surreptitiously trying to wipe her damp palms on her thighs. She drew in a shallow breath, then walked toward him. Maybe she should have moved more seductively, swayed her hips or something. But seduction wasn’t something she’d needed to practice with Bryan. The two of them had come of age together, taken each other’s virginity in a fumbling, laughing tangle on his bed when his parents were out for the night. Sex between her and Bryan had always been fun. It had always felt good. But it had never filled her with fire the way just the touch of Zac’s hand did.
She didn’t know how to do seduction, but she was going to try.
He’d laid his guitar on the table next to his phone. As she approached, he swiveled on the bench seat to face her. She moved forward, so close he had to widen his legs, so she didn’t run into them.
“What are you doing, Cassie?” His voice was low and tight. He knew what she was doing. She could see the knowledge in his eyes. In the way he held himself so still. Restrained.
