Wild Flame (The Wild: A Rock Star Romance Book 2)

by Micalea Smeltzer

  “It’s too cold out,” she complains in exasperation.

  I have to agree. It’s fifty degrees, but with the wind and rain it feels much colder.

  “It’s supposed to be in the sixties tomorrow,” I tell her. “No rain or wind, just pure sunshine.”

  “I hope so.”

  The sidewalk is full of people hustling to their destination and some douchebag bumps roughly into Kira, sending her slamming into my body.

  “Watch where you’re fucking going, asshole!” I shout after the businessman yelling into his cellphone.

  Kira giggles. It’s such a carefree sound from her that I’m actually startled.

  I glance down at her as we continue walking. “What?” I ask, defensively. “He should pay more attention and not run into people. You’re pregnant.”

  “Would you like to put me in a bubble for the next five months?”

  “Um … is that an option? Because, yes.” I nod enthusiastically. “Let’s make this happen.”

  “You’re ridiculous,” she says in a light tone, smiling at me.

  “Ridiculously worried about your safety.”

  She laughs, avoiding a crack in the sidewalk and stumbling into me. She quickly rights herself, making sure to put as much distance between us as she can.

  “This is it,” I say, pointing to the hotel across the street and we stop at the crosswalk.

  “There are so many people here,” she remarks. “It’s worse than D.C.”

  “It’s a whole other league,” I reply. “You should come to L.A. sometime, it takes over an hour to drive eight miles. I wish I was kidding.”

  She gasps, the barest inhale of breath but I hear it anyway.

  “Are you inviting me to L.A.?” she asks in a joking tone, but when she tilts her head back her eyes are serious.

  I shrug casually, like it’s no big deal to talk about a future where I’m in L.A. and she’d be visiting me. “Sure, why not?”

  “Do you have a place there?”

  The crosswalk changes and we start across the street.

  “An apartment,” I reply. “It’s nothing exciting, don’t go getting grand ideas. It might be even smaller than your place.”

  Her eyes widen. “That is small.”

  We reach the next sidewalk and there isn’t far to walk to the hotel entrance. We head for the revolving doors and once we’re inside the brightly lit lobby, heated with warmth, I say, “My lease is up soon. I’ll have to figure out what I’m going to do.” I rub my jaw, heading for the line at the front desk.

  “What is there to figure out?”

  I look at her significantly. “You’re here, and the baby will be here. I don’t know if I want to live permanently in L.A. anymore.”

  “Rush—”

  “Don’t argue with me,” I beg her. “We still have time before the baby comes to talk about it and figure things out. But I don’t think I can go back to L.A. and live so far away from my child.”

  She exhales a shaky breath. “Okay,” she agrees.

  “By the way,” I can’t stop my grin from spreading, “we’re sharing a room.”

  “What?” she blurts loudly, causing more than a few heads to turn our way.

  I shrug nonchalantly. “Rooms weren’t cheap. Don’t worry, I made sure to get a king size bed.” I wink at her and her jaw drops open.

  “You … you … you—”

  “Yes?” I prompt.

  “Ugh,” she groans, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re impossible and I see what you’re up to.”

  “I’m not up to anything.” But my dick can certainly get up if you want it to.

  “I’m not sleeping with you.”

  “You don’t have much a choice unless you want to sleep on the couch.”

  She scoffs as we move up in line. “That’s not what I meant and you know it,” she mutters under her breath.

  “Kira,” I say in a serious tone. “I’m not expecting anything from you. I’m joking. When we booked the hotel there weren’t many rooms left. Hollis and Mia are sharing, of course, us, and Fox and Cannon have to crash together.”

  “Oh.”

  “I would’ve gotten you your own room if I could have,” I promise, and I mean it.

  Do I prefer having her in the same room with me? Fuck yes. But I’m not lying. I would’ve made sure she had her own room if we’d planned this farther out.

  “This trip was last minute, and this was the most decent hotel we could get with three rooms. I think sharing a bed with me will be better than us each having our own rooms in a rundown dump with cockroaches.”

  She bites her lip and nods. “It is.”

  The couple in front of us leaves with their room key.

  “Daniels,” I tell the receptionist.

  She types into her computer. “Rush?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She types something else and then hands me a piece of paper with two plastic keycards.

  “Thank you.” I smile at her and then Kira and I head for the elevators. I itch to reach out and touch her, to at least put my hand on her waist, but I know after our drive this morning and then what I said on the train, it’s been too much for her.

  In a lot of ways it’s too much for me too.

  I never expected to feel for her what I do, but I can’t make it go away. I can barely understand it.

  We ride the elevator up and get off on our floor. Our room is down a hall at the very end. I slide the key into the door and push it open, letting her go in first.

  I set her bags outside the bathroom door to the left, along with my backpack.

  On the other side of the bathroom wall is the bedroom. The king size bed is against the wall and in one corner there’s a chair, and in the other a table with a different chair.

  “It’s cute,” Kira remarks, undoing her coat. Once it’s off she drapes it over the back of the chair by the table.

  The room is mostly plain, with white walls and white bedding. But the pillows are bright yellow and the wall art uses bright colors.

  “It’s not bad,” I agree, my head swiveling. “Are you hungry? I think the others want to get dinner.”

  She frowns. “Is it bad I’d rather stay here and get room service? Being pregnant is making me lazy. I used to love going out, but now I just want to chill in the bed.”

  I chuckle. “I feel the same. I’ll let them know we’re staying in for the evening.”

  “Thank you,” she says gratefully.

  I dig my phone out of my pocket and shoot Hollis a text that we won’t be joining them tonight.

  Hollis: But it’s my birthday.

  Me: We’ve been with you almost all fucking day. Kira’s tired. She’s pregnant. If she wants to stay in that’s what we’re doing. Deal with it.

  Hollis. :D

  Me: Asshole.

  Hollis: You like her.

  Me: What does that matter?

  Hollis: It doesn’t. ;)

  I sigh and close out of my text messages, not in the mood to deal with him.

  Tossing the phone on the bed I face Kira.

  “I want out of these clothes,” she groans, tugging on her sweater.

  “I’d be happy to help you out of them.” I grin, unable to help myself.

  “Rush.”

  “You shouldn’t give me the opportunity to say these things,” I warn her. “It’s your own fault.”

  “Or maybe you’re just a pig.”

  “Could be that too,” I agree with a shrug.

  I have to admit, standing in this hotel room with her is awkward as hell. Normally, any time a bed is near we’re fucking. Hell, we don’t even need a bed to fuck.

  Things are different now, and I have to get used to it.

  Quiet falls between us and she stares at me. I can’t tell what she’s thinking and it bothers me. I wish I could read her mind, to understand if she’s as conflicted as I am.

  She shakes her head, as if she’s trying to free herself of her thoughts a
nd turns to her bags. She bends down, unzipping the larger one, and a moment later pulls out a pair of cotton shorts and an old ratty t-shirt I think might have her high school’s logo on it.

  “I … um … I’m going to take a shower.”

  I nod. “Okay. I’ll order some food.”

  “Thanks. I could go for a burger.”

  I laugh loudly. “Of course you could.”

  Color stains her cheeks.

  “I think it’s cute,” I add. “Burgers are giving tacos a run for their money right now.”

  She gives me a small smile and passes me by. A second later the bathroom door clicks closed behind her.

  I heave a sigh and push my fingers roughly through my hair. I let out a noise that could be called a growl, but I think it’s more a sound of despair because she’s got me wound so tight I can’t see straight.

  It’s difficult feeling like you had something, only to have it taken from you but still be within your grasp.

  Talk about conflicting emotions.

  I busy myself by searching the room for the room service menu. I finally locate it and call, ordering far more food than we need, but I’m starving and I’m sure she is too. I make sure she definitely has her burger and fries. I don’t have a death wish.

  While she’s in the bathroom I change out of my clothes and tug on a pair of sweatpants. I don’t bother with a shirt. When I’m hanging around like we are tonight I don’t like to wear a shirt, sue me, and if she gets a look at my six pack and decides she can’t resist me, well…

  The door to the bathroom squeaks open, steam billowing out.

  “Hi,” she says awkwardly, facing me. Seeing her not know what to do or say is kind of cute.

  “Hi,” I say back, taking in her scrubbed clean face. Her hair is dry, pulled up in a messy bun. She looks back at me with round wide eyes, her full lips slightly parted.

  For the longest time I only ever saw her covered in makeup and dressed in skimpy dresses. She’s fucking gorgeous either way, but there’s something about seeing her this bare and exposed that does something to me. She didn’t trust me for a long time to see her like this. It’s almost like the clothes, the sultry makeup, was a mask, a façade she put on to become someone else.

  Now, I’m looking at her. The part of herself she hides away from everyone else.

  “You’re beautiful,” I blurt the words in a soft confession.

  She ducks her head. She doesn’t contradict me, and I find that fucking sexy. She knows she’s drop dead gorgeous and she owns it.

  She takes careful steps toward me, looking at my chest, particularly the tattoos on my chest before she lifts her chin. Her lips quirk into a playful smile. I itch to touch my fingers to her jaw, for her to stand on her tiptoes, and me to lower my head to kiss her. But I know none of that will happen and it’s wrong of me to wish for it, to hope for more than she can give me.

  “Are you allergic to shirts?” she asks in a joking tone, poking my chest.

  I shrug casually. “I put it on and it flew right off.” I crack a smile. “It seems like the answer to your question is yes.”

  “Lucky me.” Her eyes sparkle with playfulness.

  Lucky me.

  My breath catches.

  I’m a pathetic bastard.

  I never thought a girl could bring me to my knees, to want to be around her at all times, and not only for sex. But I never could’ve predicted meeting Kira. She’s like a hurricane, plowing into me unexpectedly and destroying my foundation. Now, I’m rebuilding but the pieces are different and I barely recognize myself.

  There’s a knock on the door and a call of, “Room service,” which has us stepping apart like we’ve been caught doing something we shouldn’t have.

  She sits down on the bed and I go to get the food.

  I return with the cart and she laughs, covering her mouth to try to hold in her giggles.

  “Did you order everything on the menu?”

  “Pretty much,” I reply nonchalantly. And I’d do it all over to hear you laugh like that.

  “I’m starving and I think you’re tempting fate. If I overeat, you might end up holding my hair back again.”

  I lift up some of the covers, looking at the food. It doesn’t look half bad. I’ve had some questionable hotel food in the past.

  “I wouldn’t mind,” I reply to her.

  I mean it, too. Taking care of her isn’t a burden. It’s what you do when you … care about someone.

  Care.

  I care about her.

  Not love.

  It can’t be love. I refuse to believe it.

  “Hand me that,” she demands when I lift the lid off the burger. She looks like she might attack me like a lion attacks a gazelle if I don’t get the food to her stat.

  I quickly hand her the plate and then grab some packets of mayonnaise and ketchup off the cart, giving her those as well.

  “This smells so good,” she moans. “This baby is either going to come out loving cheeseburgers or hating them.” She opens the packet of mayonnaise and squirts some on the bun. She then empties a few of the ketchup packs on her plate and dips a fry. “So yummy.” Her eyes close, savoring her food.

  I’m hungry too, starving actually, but suddenly watching her savor her food is far more important than eating.

  She opens her eyes and takes me in, staring at her like a fool. “I thought you were hungry.”

  “I am,” I answer.

  But now I’m hungry for so much more.

  I’ve turned into a pathetic asshole.

  Shaking my head I try to clear my thoughts and stop thinking about her naked and writhing beneath me. I look at the other things I ordered and settle on a steak and cheese sandwich.

  “Let’s get comfy,” Kira declares, sliding to the other side of the bed and up near the pillows. “Maybe we can find something to watch.”

  I set my plate on the bedside table and grab the water and Coke from the cart, handing her the Coke.

  I flop onto the bed beside her, stretching my legs out. Grabbing the remote off the side table I give it to her. “You pick something.”

  She swallows her bite of food, having already dug in, and takes it, turning on the TV.

  Leaning over I grab my plate off the side table and settle back down.

  “Fuck no,” I growl, seeing what Kira’s chosen to watch. “Turn it off.”

  She giggles, and again that sound hits me like a kick to the gut but in a good way. It’s at odds to the always in-control Kira who never let her emotions show who I first got to know.

  “Mia told you about this, didn’t she?” I seethe playfully, shaking my head as the opening credits to Titanic begin.

  “Maybe,” she draws out the word. “Did you really cry when Jack died?”

  “It was one tear,” I defend. “He shouldn’t have died. She could’ve scooted over and made room or he could’ve found something else to lay on, but oh no he had to stay with poor precious Rose in the ice cold fucking water.”

  She clutches her stomach, completely losing it at my mini-rant.

  “It’s not funny,” I defend in a light tone. “Jack was the best fucking character in the whole movie. That dude knew how to live and then he has to go and die. You know who should’ve died? Rose’s mother. What a bitch.”

  She’s laid her food to the side and now rolls around in the bed, laughing hysterically.

  “Am I really that amusing?”

  “Yes,” she chokes out through her laughter. “You’re so serious about all of this.”

  “I’m passionate about things I care about,” I defend. “Passion is an excellent quality.”

  She keeps laughing.

  “Fine, we’ll watch it,” I agree. “But when I bitch through the whole movie, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I pop a fry in my mouth.

  She slowly recovers, wiping tears from her eyes.

  “This is the most I’ve laughed in a long time,” she admits. “Thank you.”

  �
�I’d say you’re welcome, but it’s at my expense. So, no.”

  She cackles some more.

  She rights herself and tries to catch her breath. She picks up her plate and starts eating like she hasn’t just been rolling all over the place laughing at my expense for the past five minutes.

  Whatever. I can’t even be offended because it feels so fucking good to see her let loose so freely, instead of projecting her normal icy cold attitude.

  Bit by bit she’s letting me in, she just hasn’t realized it yet.

  As the movie plays, we eat mostly in silence except for me interjecting random comments here and there.

  “Oh, yes, let’s just arrest the best character in the movie while its evil henchman walks free. He needs to be tossed off the boat and her douchebag fiancé with him. Feed them to the sharks I say. Walk the plank. You know what would’ve made this better? If pirates attacked the boat. Granted, that’s not historically accurate, but who cares. Give me pirates. I like pirates.”

  I look over, in disbelief she hasn’t told me to shut up yet and I find her curled on her side, her hands tucked under her chin fast asleep. Her dark lashes touch her smooth cheeks and her lips are slightly parted. She looks peaceful, at ease. She rarely looks like that when she’s awake. Her past haunts her. I wish she would share those burdens with me, but I still haven’t told her mine so I can’t expect her to spill her guts.

  I pause the movie and grab our plates. I pile the trash on the cart and roll it outside.

  I don’t have a blanket to put over her, but I don’t want her to get cold either so I drape my coat over top of her. I know it’s not exactly comfy, but I figure it’ll keep her warm until she wakes up.

  I stand over her, feeling like a creeper, but I just need to look at her.

  I need to see her while she’s not looking.

  Once I have my fill I lean down and press a kiss to her cheek beside her ear.

  “If I could love anyone it would be you,” I whisper.

  I close my eyes and sigh.

  As soon as the words are out, I know I’ve lied.