“I don’t want to be a rockstar’s girlfriend,” I said, completely frustrated.
“Then don’t,” he snarled. “Don’t be a rockstar’s girlfriend. Be mine, Heather. If I wanted a rockstar’s girlfriend, I could have my pick in whatever city I’m in at the time. I want a girl that is with me for me, not because my name is in lights.”
“Be yours?” I asked.
“At least try,” he said, a slight tilt to the corner of his mouth.
“We can’t have sex,” I blurted, shaking my head.
“Why not?” he grinned. “You already said we were good together.”
“You are so frustrating,” I said, tossing my hands in the air. It took every ounce of willpower I had to put my hands against his chest and push him away. “It’s late. I’d like to go home.”
“Home?” he asked, his voice thickening.
“Yes, Donovan,” I sighed. “I have papers to grade in the morning and I’d like to get some sleep.”
“Okay,” he said, standing up from his spot on the couch. I looked away from him, because his eyes had saddened at my request.
He gathered his long hair in his hands and twisted it up, holding it with one hand. Leaning over, he grabbed his cap from the coffee table and tucked his hair inside. He cursed when it fell loose.
“Here,” I said, softly. “Let me help?”
He silently handed me his cap and let his hair fall haphazardly around his shoulders. His eyes followed my every movement like I was going to bolt and never return. Maybe I was being too hard on him?
I ran my fingers through his hair, feeling the softness. I had to clench my thighs when he moaned from the feel of my nails grazing his scalp. As I gathered his hair, an expensive scent drifted across my senses and I closed my eyes from the smell. The source of the scent had to have been his shampoo.
“Babe,” he panted. “I’m trying to do the right thing here, but your hands in my hair…yeah, that’s making it awfully hard to keep my hands to myself.”
“Okay,” I giggled, adjusting his cap over his head. All of his hair stayed in place, so I took a step back, out of reaching distance. If I stayed close to him, I’d give in and be in his bed.
A pain bloomed behind my eyes as I turned around to leave, suddenly knocking me off balance. One hand shot out to catch myself, while the other covered my sensitive eyes. I groaned as my knees hit the ground, but Donovan was there to keep me from bashing my forehead on the sharp end of his coffee table.
“Heather?” he gasped, pulling me into his arms. He was sitting on the floor with my ass planted between his legs. My head rolled until my face was pressed into his neck. “What’s wrong?”
“Head,” I mumbled, squinting my eyes. “Hurts.”
“Do you have migraines?” he asked, his voice barely over a whisper.
“I guess so,” I replied. His deep, husky voice soothed the ache in my head, but not enough to worry about my total embarrassment of stumbling over my own feet. “I’m okay. I just lost my balance.”
“No, you’re not okay,” he growled. “You blacked out on me.” I blinked a few times and looked into his eyes. The corners were crinkled with worry, and the last thing I wanted to do was to be a burden.
“I did?” I asked, shaking my head. All I remembered was losing my balance and then I was falling. I must’ve blacked out, because I didn’t remember how I ended up on the floor being held by him. “Do you have any Tylenol?”
“Yes, sure,” he said, picking me up as if I weighed nothing. He gently laid me on the couch and pulled a blanket over my shoulders. The cool leather from the couch felt amazing on my heated body. I had no desire to move…anywhere.
I closed my eyes as I heard him move away. The pain in my head wasn’t going away, and when he returned, I took the pills he offered me and placed my head back on the sofa, closing my eyes against the light that was piercing my brain.
When I opened them again, I wasn’t sure where I was, but once I woke up fully and the warmth surrounding me, I knew I was in his arms.
I looked around, taking stock of his bedroom. The sheets were stark white and soft as silk. I smiled to myself when I noticed the furniture was black. One wall was completely covered in cherry wood panels. The other walls were void of any pictures or artwork of any kind. There was a set of double doors that lead out of the bedroom, they matched the wood paneling. I could see dark cabinets with white marble countertops through a door that was slightly cracked. Another door was on the same wall, and I assumed that was his closet.
Donovan mumbled softly and I could’ve sworn he said someone’s name, but I couldn’t quite tell with his face buried in my hair. He tightened his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to his chest. I blushed when I realized I was halfway undressed. My shorts were folded on a chair next to the bed and I wasn’t wearing a bra. How the hell did I not remember him undressing me? The though made me blush…again.
“Morning,” he rasped. His beard scratched my shoulder as he kissed the spot where my neck and shoulder met.
“Hi,” I whispered.
“Are you feeling okay?” he asked, taking the arm that was around my waist and brought it up to cup the side of my face. The feeling of his warmth surrounding me, and his hand on my face, caused me to sigh in peace and satisfaction. I could lay here all day.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m so sorry about last night.”
“You scared the hell out of me,” he admitted, brushing his thumb over my bottom lip. “Does this happen often?”
“Yes,” I admitted. “I’ve been getting headaches here lately, but I’ve never lost my balance or blacked out. Are you sure I blacked out? I don’t remember it.”
“Yes, babe,” he growled. “You completely checked out for a few seconds.”
“Wow,” I said, shocked. “That’s never happened.”
I rolled over so that we were facing each other. I rested my head in the crook of his arm and I let him pull me closer by wrapping his arm around my waist. It was like he had to have my entire body flush against his. I didn’t mind that one bit. He was warm and smelled so amazing. His hair was a little messy from his sleep, and I was sure mine wasn’t any better.
“I’m fine, really. It’s probably nothing,” I promised. I was lying to him and to myself. Headaches and blacking out were not something to take lightly. “Maybe I was dehydrated.”
“Well, you need to see a doctor,” he said, kissing my forehead and rolling out of the bed.
I stifled a groan when he walked around the platform bed in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs that hugged his ass just right. His legs were tattooed, and I found myself daydreaming about getting one myself. I’d always wanted one, but never got up enough nerve to have something permanent etched into my skin that I couldn’t change.
“I’ll be fine,” I said. “I really need to go home, Donovan. I have papers to grade and I need to prepare for classes this week.”
“When does school get out for the summer?” he asked, pulling a shirt over his head.
“Two more weeks,” I sighed. “I can’t wait.”
“Well,” he smiled. “Can I take you out to dinner tonight?”
“Donovan,” I warned, shaking my head. “I still don’t think this is a good idea.” I started to say more, but he silenced me with a hard look.
“What’s not a good idea?” he growled. “We work well together, Heather. I know you had a headache last night, but I remember you saying that the sex was amazing, and I say that we should at least try.”
“I remember,” I blushed, tucking my chin to my chest. Why did he make me so nervous? Why did the thought of never seeing him again make the spot over my heart burn?
“Come on and get dressed,” he sighed. “I’ll take you home.”
He turned and left the room, his jeans and a clean pair of socks in his hand. The look of disappointment on his face tore at my heart, but I just couldn’t see where dating a rockstar would be a healthy relationship. He would never be home
, and I’m sure there were plenty of willing women to keep his bed warm on those lonely nights on the road.
Groaning, I made my way into the bathroom and put on my clothes. I found a hair tie in the top drawer of his bathroom cabinet and a brush. After using the bathroom, I brushed out the knots in my hair and pulled it up into a sloppy ponytail.
Leaning on the counter, I looked in the mirror and was surprised when my refreshed reflection stared back at me. Even after the headache, I felt like that was the best night of sleep I’d had in years. That little voice in my head told me it was from being held in his arms all night, but I shut down all of those thoughts and left the bathroom in search of my shoes. After picking them up from the floor by the chair, I made my way out of his bedroom and down the hallway toward the living room.
I found him in the kitchen, pouring two cups of coffee. He didn’t speak and he didn’t look at me. Guilt flooded my mind, and I walked over to him and leaned against his arm, “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.”
“You didn’t hurt my feelings,” he sighed. “I wish you’d at least let me take you out on a real date. It makes me mad that you automatically assume that we won’t work. You haven’t even tried.”
“I know,” I whispered. “I…” My phone rang, interrupting my next words. I scooped it up and answered it immediately. “Kiera?”
“You never called me last night,” she cursed. “I was about to call the police and hunt that son of a bitch down!” I looked at Donovan, who was staring at my phone with a raised brow. He must’ve heard her every word.
“He’s standing right here,” I said.
“Oh,” she gasped. “Hi, Donovan!” She yelled and I had to pull the phone away from my ear to keep from going deaf.
“Hello, Kiera,” he replied, taking his cup over to the little pub table by the window. I found sugar and creamer to add to my coffee and listened to the ass chewing from my best friend. I knew she had to say what she wanted to say, and then I could grovel to get her to forgive me.
“Where are you?” she began. “Last I know, you were hopping on that damn death trap and riding off into the night. Rio took me home, by the way, and I sat up for the longest time, waiting on you to call. I fell asleep on my lumpy couch and I just woke up with no text or phone calls from you. Do you know how worried I’ve been?”
“You’ve been asleep, Kiera,” I teased, taking a seat across from Donovan. “You couldn’t have been that worried.”
“Fucking hell, Heather Rose,” she snarled. “Where are you now?”
“At his place, over on Royal,” I admitted. Giving her the actual address would make her more at ease, and hopefully get her off my back about not calling.
“He doesn’t live far from you,” she said, more of a statement than a question.
“He’s taking me home after I have a cup of coffee.” I smiled at Donovan who was checking messages on his phone. I heard the sound of a game that Rio liked to play on his own phone. I smiled and shook my head.
“I’ll be over later,” she said.
“No,” I replied. “I have to grade papers and get my lesson plan done. I should’ve had it done already.” Sometimes that girl was like a dog with a bone, and today wasn’t going to be any different.
“I’m still coming over to talk,” she laughed. “I’ll bring lunch!” I didn’t have a chance to reply, because she ended the call and left me there clenching my teeth.
“Come on, Heather,” he said, standing up from his seat. “Let me get you home.”
“Thank you,” I sighed.
Donovan remained quiet as we prepared to head back to my place. I could’ve walked if I didn’t have these damn heels from the night before. I slipped them on my feet and followed him out to the courtyard behind the house. I sighed in relief when he opened the garage and inside it sat an older model Mustang, completely restored.
“Oh, wow,” I gasped. “It’s beautiful.” At least I didn’t have to ride on the back of his bike wearing my heels again.
“Yeah, she is,” he smiled, pride written all over his face.
I walked up to the shiny black car and touched it lightly with the tips of my fingers, looking inside. The inside was also restored. The seats were red leather, and I laughed at the sight.
“What?” he asked, looking at me from over the top of the car.
“You like leather?” I giggled.
“Yes,” he winked. “Get in and I’ll run you home.”
I smiled and slid into the passenger seat, loving the feel of the soft leather where my bare legs touched. He fired up the car and backed carefully out of the garage. He hit another remote and the gate to the street opened so we could leave.
He lived seven blocks from me, and the ride home was short…quiet. He was obviously upset about my statement earlier, but what I said was true. In all reality, we couldn’t have a relationship, and I wasn’t going to be the woman who overlooked him fucking his way through each city when out on the road. He had to understand that I wouldn’t share him with band whores.
“Donovan,” I sighed, turning toward him when he pulled along the curb in front of my building.
“No, don’t say it, Heather,” he said, looking straight ahead. “Just don’t. I’ll call you.”
“O…kay,” I replied. He was obviously in a foul mood, and I knew that I was the one that put him there. I needed to just thank him and get out of the car. “I’ll…yeah. I’ll just go.”
Quickly, I pushed the door open and stepped out. When I closed the door to the Mustang, I didn’t look back as I unlocked the door to my building and threw it open in my rush to get away from him. A clean break was needed. As much as I enjoyed being wrapped up in his arms, I knew this wouldn’t work. A relationship with a rockstar was doomed before it even began.
I wiped a tear away as my foot hit the first step. I heard him curse as the engine revved and, before I could turn around to look at him one last time, he sped off. By the time I reached my door, I was a blubbering mess.
Chapter 6
After a long stupid cry and a shower, I plopped down on the couch and grabbed the stack of papers I needed to grade. I silenced my phone and waited for Kiera to show up demanding answers.
I didn’t have any family, and Kiera was the closest thing I had to a mother or a sister. We were the same age, but you’d think she was older by the way she watched over me protectively. There wasn’t anything I couldn’t say to her, or anything I could do that would make her love me less; and at times, I needed someone just like her in my life.
My mother died of ovarian cancer about ten years ago, and I was left with my father. Thankfully, I was almost out of high school and I knew how to take care of myself, because my dad decided to drown his sorrows in whiskey instead of dealing with the loss of his wife. He also forgot that he still had a child that he was responsible for at home.
It didn’t take long for me to move in with Kiera and her parents. I took a job after school at a grocery store in Houma where we lived at the time. Thankfully, my mother had thought ahead and had placed money into a trust fund for me to pay for college. I was a smart enough kid that I knew that I would be taking care of myself for the rest of my life and that I needed to get a degree and a career.
When I decided to become a teacher, I knew the pay wasn’t going to be all that great, but I wanted to make a difference. I also knew that since I would only be taking care of myself, I could live on a teacher’s salary and still make ends meet. I’d been very fortunate over the years, and saved my money so that I could move to the Quarter and afford my little apartment.
I’d decorated it with hand painted canvases that I made one summer when Kiera and I took an art class just for the hell of it. My favorite one was a simple bowl of fruit that I’d painted in bright vibrant colors that matched my furniture. I hung it over the couch I’d purchased at the hobby store when I moved in over the old antique store. The material looked like a patchwork quilt with flowers, pink and green gingham check sq
uares, and faded denim trim.
I’d just finished grading the last paper when I heard Kiera coming up the stairs, and she wasn’t alone. Two male voices followed her and I knew that she’d brought Rio and Trenton with her to gang up on me about Donovan.
Since she had a key, I didn’t get up to let them in the door. Kiera smiled as she walked in with bags of food from Mother’s in one hand and her purse in the other. “I brought your favorite!”
“Are you bribing me with food so I’ll tell you what happened last night?” I laughed, as I walked toward her, holding out my hand for the sandwich.
“I got you a John G without the turkey and au jus,” she laughed, and handed me the delicious goodness.
I grabbed four glasses out of the cabinet. Trenton came over and took two of them from me, and smiled, “I’ll put ice in these if you want to grab the tea.”
“Okay,” I said, turning for the fridge. I removed the pitcher and set it on the counter. Trenton filled the glasses while I grabbed some extra napkins, setting them on the table. When I returned to the kitchen, Trenton moved passed me and placed his hand on the small of my back when he left my small kitchen.
Oh, Trenton. He was a great guy and I liked him a lot…as a friend. He would occasionally touch me softly, on my lower back, my arm. A few times, he had held my hand as we crossed the road when we’d all been out together. I’d dismissed it, because we were trying to be careful and it was during rush hour, but now I wondered. I wondered if he liked me more than just friends? I sighed quietly as I sat down at the table.
“What happened last night?” Kiera asked.
“Nothing really,” I shrugged, taking a bite of my sandwich to keep from talking. She wasn’t going to let me get off that easily.
“Well, obviously something happened,” she smirked. “You spent the night at his place.”
“I fell asleep on his couch,” I admitted. “We talked and I ended up sleeping over, Kiera. Really, nothing happened.” I omitted the part about the headache. If I said anything, she’d have freaked out and sent me to the doctor first thing Monday morning.
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