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“I told you I’m not hungry.” Just as she finished speaking, her stomach rumbled, betraying her.
He chuckled and nudged the bowl of whipped cream towards her. “Come on. Just a little taste. We can’t stop again until we get to Clarion, Pennsylvania, if we want to get some decent sleep tonight before getting back on the road.”
She sighed and gave in, picking up her fork. His chest puffed up triumphantly as she poured the syrup over the pancakes and added a dollop of the sweet cream. He’d won this battle. But something told him this was just the beginning and the war of his life was coming.
11
Emma
Emma rolled her neck from side to side as Link carried their bags to the front desk of the hotel.
A young woman with dark hair greeted them with a bored expression, seemingly annoyed they’d pulled her attention from the phone in her hand. “Do you have a reservation?”
Link shook his head and set the bags down. “No.”
The girl’s eyes roamed between the two of them, lingering on Emma. Her name tag glinted in the florescent lights. Stacia.
Emma tugged her hat lower and dipped her head, pretending to be interested in something on the ground.
“Do you have a reservation, ma’am?” Stacia asked.
“No, I’m with him,” Emma answered without looking up. The last thing she needed was to be spotted and have the paparazzi following her on this journey. They were bad enough in the cities they stopped at for the concerts. It seemed everyone wanted to know all about the mysterious lead singer of The Sirens. Was she dating one of her band members or all of them? Where was her family? Who was she really?
“Would you like a king or double beds?”
“Two rooms.” Link put a little more emphasis on the number of rooms than necessary, causing both Emma and Stacia to dart their attention to him.
“Uh, doesn’t matter what beds. Just having them on the same floor would be best.” Link rubbed the back of his head.
“Okay, you guys can have rooms three-sixteen and three-eighteen. They’re right next to each other. What card will you be using?” Stacia popped her gum.
Link went for his wallet at the same time Emma dug into her pocket. He cut her a glance. “Don’t even think about it.”
Emma didn’t bother to argue. This was just night one of what was sure to prove a very long trip. It was pure torture to be so close to what she wanted most and not be able to have him. At least he’s talking to me again. Why did she still want him even after he’d acted like such an asshole to her? I wish he’d let me fuck him into a better mood. Although that hadn’t seemed to help last time. It had made it worse. If he wanted to pretend nothing happened, she’d go with it. A piece of him was better than nothing.
She tried not to let her gaze linger on his toned arms as he collected his card from the girl and signed the paperwork in exchange for the rooms. He’d bulked up since January. He’d always been lean and muscular, but this was another level.
“Do you spend all your free time at the gym now?”
He shrugged. “Going to The Shipwreck after work for beers with Dad had been our routine. Doing it without him . . . just didn’t feel right.”
A pang of grief twisted in her heart. He probably felt the same way she did whenever she picked up the phone to call her dad before a show, only to remember he wouldn’t ever answer: lonely.
“I signed up for MMA classes at Tidal Gym.”
Images of his lean, muscular body in nothing but a pair of long shorts flit through her mind—sweat dripping down his chiseled abs and catching the lighting just right, so he looked like a bronze Adonis. She forced her eyes away from him and swallowed hard. This was going to be a very long road trip.
Why did you do this to us, Papa?
The hollow pain of knowing she’d never have the answer tore a little more at her damaged heart. These past three months, she’d thrown herself into her music. Working, barely sleeping, getting lost in her craft, and fighting the urge to mutilate her body.
She exhaled the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding as Link took the keys from Stacia and handed one out to Emma. She took it, swallowing the ball of emotion that caught in her throat every time he touched her. Even the subtle graze of his fingertips on her palm sent a shiver tumbling through her. It was the only time she felt anything anymore.
She picked up her guitar case and headed towards the elevators. Link followed, slipping beside her and hitting the number for their floor.
Silence swallowed them as the metal box rose. Tension thickened, making it hard to draw in oxygen. The doors opened, and she followed the signs to their rooms. After taking out her key, she opened the door and walked in, setting her instrument on the ground to the side of the hall. The room was outdated, with weird swirly wallpaper and a picture of flowers on the far wall. A small TV, king bed, dresser, and a chair took up the tiny space.
Link set her bag at the foot of her mattress, eyeing the bed and then turning to face her, his eyes shifting to the door behind her. “You wanna get some dinner delivered?”
