I cock an eyebrow. Hm. There’s a thought. “And if I do?”
“You can’t like me. You hate me!”
“I don’t.”
“Oh, you so do.”
“I really don’t.”
“I don’t believe you,” she insists.
The problem is, she’s not entirely wrong. When this all started, I didn’t like her. And sometimes she still gets under my skin. But I respect her. And fuck it if she’s not right. I think I like her. No, I know I like her. She’s feisty and funny and caring. And gorgeous. Especially right now, looking like the goddess queen of groupies, even aside from her outfit. Her eyes are lit up, her energy hypnotic. She’s every rock star’s wet dream.
“Shall I prove it?”
Before she can protest, I take a step to close the gap between us and lean in, lightly placing my lips to hers. I give her a second to stop me, but when she doesn’t, I lift my hand to her face, slipping it behind her neck, and threading my fingers through her silky hair to hold her in place while I really kiss her.
It takes a minute, but she starts to respond, her lips working against mine. And like a trigger’s been pulled, my whole body responds, molding against her, my other arm slipping behind her to pull her even closer. I swipe my tongue into her mouth and she groans. The sound wakes my whole body in a way it hasn’t been in far too long. And then we’re all lips and heat and gasping for breath … that is, until I let her go.
She stares up at me, panting and confused.
“We may drive each other crazy,” I murmur. “But I kind of dig it. Tell me you dig it too, Maxi.”
“I do,” she admits softly. Then her brows bunch together and she whispers, “Fuck.”
That gets another laugh out of me. “Know what day it is?” I ask her.
“Tax day?” she snarks.
“Well, technically that was yesterday. Which makes today —”
“April sixteenth. Crap, West, it’s your goddamn birthday.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “You know when my birthday is?”
She levels a look at me. “I was your biggest fan for a long time, remember? Of course I know when your birthday is.” She holds up a hand at the look on my face. “And before you get any ideas, there will be no sexual birthday presents just because I had a mental lapse and let you kiss me.”
“You kissed me back,” I protest.
She purses her lips. “Okay, I kissed you back.”
“I wasn’t going to ask for sex.”
“I said sexual.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say no to a blow job,” I tease.
And she punches me. Though I kind of deserved it.
“Ouch,” I say, feigning injury as I rub my arm. “I was kidding.”
“No, you weren’t.”
“Okay, I wasn’t. But really, this is weird for me too. I didn’t plan to kiss you.”
“Then why did you?” she asks, her eyes going soft.
I step into her, reaching up to palm her cheek. I try to find an explanation, but I don’t fully understand it myself.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “When we first met, I thought I couldn’t stand you. But something changed. And now … maybe I can’t stand to be without you.”
She closes her eyes and sighs. I lean down and kiss her again, this time going slowly. I realize something about holding her just feels right. Like all the other bullshit just goes away. In a way, it’s a little like being high. Mind-numbing, but in a good way.
This is why they warn you against relationships right when you get out of rehab. Thankfully, rehab was a long time ago.
Because as I taste her, as her tongue meets mine and every neuron in my brain says “more,” well, I’m pretty sure Maxi Marshall is my new drug of choice.
15
Sharp Dressed Man by ZZ Top
* * *
Max
“And you haven’t seen him since after the private concert?” Alexsis asks, stunned.
“Nope.”
“Wow,” she mouths. “He didn’t even call?”
“Oh, he did.”
“And you didn’t answer,” she surmises.
“No.”
“And … why not? You admitted you like him. What’s your hang-up?”
I take a deep breath. “I do like him. More than like him. That’s what scares me.”
“You think he’s going to break your heart again,” she offers.
“Bingo.”
“Always a risk,” she agrees.
I give her a look. “Thanks. That makes me feel so much better,” I tell her sarcastically.
She chuckles. “Well, if it helps, you look like a million bucks,” she offers.
I look down at my pale pink lace and tulle gown, my brown waves sleeked over one shoulder. And I know my makeup is subtle but on point.
“I do, don’t I?” I reply airily. “You look pretty fantastic yourself.”
She twirls in her silver sequined mermaid dress. “Why, thank you.”
“Any chance you invited a certain club manager to attend the airing party tonight?” I ask.
“Nils? Why would I invite him?” she asks, confused.
I laugh. “Oh, Alexsis. My dear, sweet, Alexsis. You like him, right?”
She blushes bright pink. “He’s way too old for me.”
“He’s what, thirty?”
“Thirty-four.”
“That’s only twelve years,” I say, though admittedly that’s no small deal. “Besides, he obviously likes you too.”
She brushes me away. “Oh, he does not.”
“Mhm,” I murmur. “Whatever you say.” Then I mouth “he totally does” and she bursts out laughing.
“Whatever. Is our ride here yet or what?”
I check the app on my phone. “Just about. We can probably head out.”
We catch our ride and head to the theater where the airing party is being held. We’re arriving early, so I’m not particularly self-conscious about our ride. A limo would just be too weird for me.
I have to admit, I’m extremely curious to watch the fully edited show. Though seeing myself on screen will be a trip. Why does everyone always hate their own voice? Being a journalist, I should probably get over that.
In any case, we head in and meet Carter, Ford, and Burke. Jason, our boss, was going to come too but got sick. So we’re left to hold our own. Thankfully, it’s literally just the viewing plus an optional after-party.
Apparently, Ford and Burke have seen the finished product, but the tour sponsors will be watching it right alongside the public, so they’ll see the reaction play out on social media in real time. All of the lead-up posts had great responses, though, so I’m not too worried.
But if I were West, I probably would be.
Speaking of West, I’m obviously nervously waiting for him to arrive. While trying to pretend I don’t care at all. Fooling absolutely nobody, not even myself.
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised when the lights blink, signaling that showtime is imminent, and he still hasn’t appeared. That’s a rock star for you. They arrive when they’re damn good and ready.
The show starts, and it’s just as jarring watching myself as I thought it would be. But West … goddamn he looks good on camera. None of his magnetism is lost.
The band interview plays well, coming across as funnier than I remember it being. But then, I was so nervous. And irritated.
Erik’s apology is interesting to watch, since I wasn’t close enough to hear everything while they were bowling. It’s likewise equally funny and touching. Still light.
Then comes the ex. Dear god. It’s even crazier on screen, with close-up camera work on Sadie’s surprise freak-out attack. The audience gasps and oohs appropriately, lapping it up.
Annika’s segment, however, brings the mood down considerably, but with just enough tenderness, particularly in West’s very emotional post interview, it’s bound to melt hearts across the world.
But the second it transition
s to the apology with his father, I realize I can’t watch this part. I don’t want to watch this part. Alexsis’s mouth pops open as I quietly and quickly bustle out of the theater.
As soon as I’ve closed the door behind me, the anxiety about that encounter begins to mellow.
“Well, that took you longer than I expected.”
I whirl around at West’s voice to find him standing in the foyer. In a black-on-black-on-black three piece suit and tie that’s perfectly tailored to his slim, fit frame, he’s more handsome than he has any right to be.
“What?” I ask blankly.
He chuckles, walking slowly toward me with his hands in his pockets.
“I guessed that you wouldn’t last fifteen minutes. So kudos to you for lasting almost a whole hour.”
He stops right in front of me. The smell of his expensive cologne fills my senses.
“You didn’t go in at all, did you?” I ask, trying to ignore how close he is.
He shakes his head. “I lived it. That was enough.”
I nod, unsure of what to say in response. His eyes rake over my lips, and I have to stop myself from shivering.
“You never called me back,” he eventually points out.
“I’m sorry,” I reply honestly. “This has all just been really overwhelming.”
He laughs, and there’s that smile. His real one. Not the snarky one. Not the teasing one. The genuine one. My favorite one.
“I have an idea what that’s like,” he replies. He tips his head toward double doors on the opposite side of the foyer. “I’m pretty sure they’ve already got the appetizers out in there. Hungry?” He offers a hand.
I reach out and take it. “Starved.”
He leads me across the intricately patterned carpet at a leisurely pace. “By the way, you look absolutely stunning,” he says casually.
“Thanks. You look pretty sharp in that suit.”
“Aw, this old thing?” he replies with a wink.
He leads me through the double doors and into the after-party space. Against the wall to our right is a long banquet table that is, in fact, laden with appetizers and flutes of sparkling champagne. All ready for a celebration.
As I load up a plate, I can’t help chuckling to myself.
“What?” West asks.
“I just think it’s funny that you showed up late to the airing that you didn’t even end up watching, but you’re early for the party. That sounds about right.”
He smirks at me. “Hardy-har. West likes to party.”
“Oh no, I didn’t mean it like that,” I say, giving him a concerned look.
He smiles and pops a mini quiche in his mouth. “I know. Champagne?”
I wave it away.
“You don’t have to abstain just because I’m not drinking,” he says with a frown.
“Oh, that’s not why. It just feels premature to celebrate.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Worried for me, are you?”
I pop a grape in my mouth. “Of course. Aren’t you?”
The door bursts open before he can respond and Alexsis runs in, brandishing her phone. “There you are,” she exclaims, stopping in front of us and thrusting the phone under West’s nose. “You’re a trending hashtag.” She beams, pointing.
And sure enough, her social media tracker has #forgiveWest trending high on all major social media platforms. With exponential increase over the last hour that’s continuing.
“Uh, I don’t speak social media,” West says. “Someone care to explain?”
Burke saunters up just as others begin to file into the room, the rest of the band foremost. “It means you just saved all your asses,” Burke explains. “Actually, mine too, come to think of it.” He claps West on the back. “Good job, kid.”
“Seriously?” West asks, jaw dropping. “The tour is on?”
Burke tips his head side to side. “Well, that’ll officially be up to the sponsors. But I think it’s pretty safe to say … yes. The tour is on. And our contact at the label texted me the thumbs up.”
Everyone whoops and hollers. And now it feels like a celebration. Champagne is handed out, save West, who gets cider, and everyone cheers and toasts to West’s victory. To not only saving the tour and contract, but to bringing the band back to relevancy, if the continued social media trend throughout the night is any indicator.
Well, at least for as long as they can ride this momentum. And with the tour promo ramping up, I have no doubt they will.
After about an hour of celebrating and networking, I’m a little peopled out. I try to say goodbye to West, but he’s absolutely surrounded and grinning like he just won the lottery. So instead I say goodbye to Alexsis, who is also clearly enjoying herself, and head out to get a ride home.
I’ve only been home long enough to trade the beautiful but uncomfortable gown for sweats and a T-shirt when there’s a knock on the door.
A quick glance out the peephole drops my jaw. I swing the door open.
“Why aren’t you at your party?” I demand.
West smirks at me. “I had more important places to be.”
I step back in shock, letting him in. “West, you just got your goddamn career back. My apartment cannot possibly be the most important place right now.”
I close the door behind him and stare at him, hands on hips.
He steps into my space, reaching up to hold my chin.
“See, now, that’s where you’d be wrong. Sure, it felt good to know that I did it. That the tour is on. That everything is going to be okay. But when I realized you were gone … I felt like I was missing something. Because without you, none of this would’ve been possible. So it would seem that wherever you are … well, that’s the most important place.”
I pull his hand down. “Don’t say things like that.”
“Why not? It’s true.”
“Maybe. But you can’t just say things like that.”
“Things like what?”
“Things that make me feel for you,” I shout. So loud that I clap my hand over my mouth. “I’m sorry.”
He chuckles and steps back into my space. “You’re not alone, Maxi. I feel it too. Even when you yell.” He lifts his hand and strokes it down my cheek, and it chips at the wall around my heart. “And I feel it when I touch you.” He leans in, grazing his lips ever-so-softly against mine. The wall cracks. “And I definitely feel it when I kiss you.”
His mouth presses harder into mine, and the wall comes tumbling down. I wrap my arms around his neck just as he pulls me into him. Our mouths quickly become hungry, tongues tangling, lips taking, as my hands wind into his thick, dark hair and he pulls me by my ass against him. I can feel his arousal between us and I groan, twisting my hips with need.
His head drops to my neck, licking and sucking at the sensitive spot just under my ear.
“I need you, Maxi,” he says huskily into my ear.
I sigh happily. Because as much as I’ve fought it, I think I need him too.
“Are we really doing this?” I ask, dazed.
West pulls back, bringing things to a screeching halt. My body hums for him to keep doing what he’d been doing, but my brain is glad for the breather.
“Obviously I want to.” His hand cups the back of my neck. “But we’re only doing this if it’s what you want too.”
Laughter bubbles out of me. “I’ve wanted this since I was seventeen years old,” I admit.
His brows shoot up. “Damn, you sure know how to make a guy feel special.”
I grab him by the lapels of his suit jacket, marveling at the silkiness of the expensive material. “You are special, West. More than I think you know. More than even I knew.”
I stare up into his eyes. And even if he doesn’t fully appreciate the truth in those words, in this moment, I do. West has remade himself. He’s done everything asked of him and more to reclaim what he’d lost, at no small cost.
And though I was deeply disappointed in him for a time, he’s shown me that he’s n
ot the person that addiction made him into anymore. The enigmatic, talented, and impassioned musician I fell for from afar has returned in the form of this man whom I’ve come to respect and admire, despite our preferred method of communication being sass. Or maybe a little bit because of it.
When he doesn’t respond to my assertion, I decide I don’t need him to. I’m ready to stop holding back. To take a chance on West. He’s earned it. And it’s time for me to stop lying to myself about how I really feel.
“Touch me, West,” I beg.
“Fuck, Maxi,” he breathes. “Anything for you.”
His fingers skate down my neck, to the collar of my shirt. His fingertips lightly feather over my breast as his hand comes to rest at my waist, slipping under the back of my shirt.
His warm hand slides up my back, pinching the clasp of my bra until it pops open. He grins down at me.
“Time to take this off,” he commands.
I bite into my bottom lip, gripping the hem of my shirt. And I slowly start walking backward, leading him to my bedroom. Unsurprisingly, he follows.
Once we’re inside, I raise the hem of the shirt inch by inch, finally slipping it over my head. I shimmy my bra off and let it fall to the floor with the shirt. I put my hands on my hips.
“Your turn,” I tell him.
West just stands in the doorway, hands in his pockets, staring at my chest. His eyes are dark, his body uncannily still.
“West?” I prompt.
“I’m sorry, I just … look at you, Maxi. Wow.”
“Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet,” I promise with a sultry smile.
I hook my thumbs in my sweats, inching them down. He licks his lips. So I inch them down farther. His hands pop out of his pockets, opening and closing. I let the sweats fall to the floor with my panties before stepping out of them. He stands there, staring for a moment longer before taking three long, purposeful strides and stopping in front of me.
I look up at him. His eyes are practically obsidian and he’s radiating heat. A shiver runs down the length of my body. And he hasn’t even touched me yet.
Instead, he uses his body to walk me backward until I hit the bed. Then in one swift move he lifts my legs and has me on my back. I cry out in surprise, but I’m abruptly interrupted by his mouth connecting with my core, causing me to cry out for other reasons.
Finding His Redemption Page 11
