I nod.
She throws the covers aside and stands up. “Hell, yeah.” She spreads her tattooed arms. “Get your skinny ass over here.”
We both laugh, and for the first time since meeting Anne, we share a hug. A hug I initiate. Just the thought makes me smile.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The next few days go by in this odd and lovely sort of bubble. I don’t think about anything other than the here and the now. Not one single memory of my old life surfaces. It’s almost like it never even existed.
I sleep through the night. I go for my morning runs with West. Anne and I work alongside each other, laughing and talking. It is literally like I really am just Eve, the roadie.
Things between West and me are the same, but also different. I’ve become almost ridiculously responsive to him. Each time he laughs or speaks or touches me, everything in me hums with an awareness that seems to linger even after he’s gone.
“You did a really good job today,” Ford compliments me, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Thanks,” I say, and it occurs to me that I set up his entire area all by myself. I knew exactly what to do with the equipment, where everything went, and how to connect it all how I know he likes it. “Ford, I really appreciate you mentoring me. I’m learning so much working under you.”
He gives an embarrassed shrug, “Oh, now…” and awkwardly glances away. “Guys will be here in an hour for sound check.” He nods to my guitar. “You’re done for a bit. Why don’t you take a little down time and relax.”
That sounds good. That sounds more than good. And so grabbing my guitar, I cradle it as I sit down behind the soundboard in my own little private area. I run my hands along the smooth finish and closing my eyes, I pick my fingers over the strings to run through the warm up chords.
Then I transition into a melody I made up last year. A soft rhythm that drifts and surrounds me with comfort, one that offers apologies for the cruelties in my life and promises love and safety for enduring. It’s a rhythm that heals and settles as it flows through my very core, and as I strum the last chord I stay really still, my eyes closed, soaking in the gentle reverberation the guitar offers as it gradually becomes quiet.
With a sigh, I slowly open my eyes to see West standing right in front of me, staring down. My lips curve. “Hi.”
“Eve,” he breathes. “That was beautiful.”
His compliment warms me, and I give a little shrug. “It’s just something I made up.”
“You made that up?” His brows lift. “That’s really good.”
“Thanks,” I say, wondering if it really is that good. Or…or if he’s just saying that.
West puts his hand over his heart. “It has a dream-like quality to it, like it’s meant to settle someone’s soul.”
He hit it perfectly, and I love that.
He shifts then, reaching into his back pocket, and pulls out an envelope. “Here,” he says, handing it to me as he steps around the equipment and sits down beside me.
“What’s this?” I ask.
“Since we’re on a year-long tour, I thought you might like to decorate your guitar case with stickers from all the places we’ve been.” He motions to the envelope. “You’ll find Nashville in there and New York. Toronto and Detroit. And every other place we’ve been. Plus here. Columbus.”
I open the envelope and stare inside at the colorful stickers. What an unbelievably cool idea and very kind gesture. “Thank you, West.”
He shrugs. “I know it’s not much—”
“They’re perfect.”
“Really?”
I give an emphatic nod. “Absolutely.”
“Cool,” he says, giving me a shy smile that has got to be the best one I’ve seen on him yet.
“Yeah, cool.”
He looks over at my guitar case. “Shall we do them now?”
“Sure.” I move the guitar off my lap and put it back inside its case. West pulls it closer, scooting in behind me as he does until our bodies are just a fraction from touching. The soundboard is behind us and the equipment all around us, cocooning us in our own private world. I take in a nervous breath and hold it as he reaches around me and inside the envelope to pull out a sticker.
“Where do you want it?” he whispers, and I catch a hint of shakiness in his voice that tells me he’s nervous, too.
But I don’t answer, because I’m not sure I can.
He shifts closer still, leaning in, and his lips graze my ear. “Breathe,” he murmurs, and I let out a shaky breath.
“K-kind of hard to do when you’re doing that,” I admit.
I feel his lips curl against my ear, and on instinct I shift a little to give him better access. He moves down just a fraction to take an oh, so gentle nibble. Wonderful warmth washes through me, and I close my eyes, soaking it in.
Lightly, West rubs his nose up the side of my neck and back down. “Mmm, you smell delicious.”
“Lever 2000,” I mumble and then realize what a stupid thing that is to say.
He slips my ball cap off, and I take and hold another breath.
“Breathe,” he reminds me again, pressing a kiss to my jaw.
I do, inhaling a raspy one. “West…”
He continues nuzzling. “Hmm?”
“I can’t think…I can’t breathe.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
Chapter Twenty-Four
I think about that question. Do I want him to stop? “No.” I’m not ready for this to be over.
“Good, because I don’t want to, either.” Snaking his arm around my stomach, he turns me and pulls me sideways right up onto his lap. I death clench his bare arms and draw in a deep breath as our gazes lock, and I go temporarily mute.
“You’re shaking,” he whispers. “Are you cold?”
“No.”
“Nervous?”
“Yes.” Very.
“About being on my lap?”
“Yes.” And everything else.
He opens his legs then, and I plop right to the cement floor. I give him a startled look, and when his eyes fill with amusement, I can’t help but laugh.
Smiling, he runs his fingers along my cheeks and into my hair, sending tingles across my scalp, and cupping my face in his palms, he slowly brings me toward him. “I’ll stop if you want me to…?”
“I don’t,” I whisper.
“Good,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss at the corner of my mouth before leisurely moving to my top lip where he leaves another. He brushes over to the other corner and lingers there for a few seconds, then slides down to my bottom lip. He sucks it into his mouth, biting down lightly on its release, then places one last gentle kiss on the same corner he started at before lifting his head.
My lashes flutter open in time to see him coming right back toward me. This time the contact of his lips stirs something deep in me and has me arching into him as he slides his hand along my hips and pulls me up onto his lap again. Shivers dance up and down my spine and spread across every inch of me, and way down deep inside I feel this need that has me opening my lips.
His tongue slips inside, circling mine, and tastes like such good cinnamon I want to suck it. But I don’t know what to do so I just mimic his actions, though I’m sure I’m not doing it right.
Trailing his hand along my hip, he pulls me closer and deepens the kiss. Somewhere in the back of my mind I know I’m digging my fingers into his arms, but I can’t make myself stop.
He pulls back, and I instinctively follow him. My world spins as I slip my tongue back inside his mouth and lick the cinnamon. He must like it because he groans and pushes deeper and I free fall into the kiss. Hunger and lust mingles, and it overwhelms me and has me moving even closer, pressing tight to him until he gently pulls back again.
Breathing heavy, we stare at each other, and I see in his intense gaze exactly what I feel. Hunger. Need. Want. Passion. We so are beyond the bounds of friendship now.
He licks his lips, and right as I
lean toward him again, he shakes his head. “We have to stop. My God.” He pushes me away from him with a laugh. “Shit.” He laughs again as he shifts and adjusts his jeans.
I blink out of my daze, wanting nothing more than to do that all over again, and right as I’m contemplating grabbing him, he ducks his head to catch my gaze. “Hey there, Green Eyes.”
I smile at the lovely feeling buzzing through me, like my cells were only operating at half power until this moment. “Hey.”
He rubs his nose affectionately against mine, and then pries my fingers from his arms. “Oh my God,” I glance down at my nail marks in his skin, “I’m so sorry.”
His lips twitch as he brings my hand up to his mouth. “So.” He kisses my thumb. “I was thinking.” He kisses my index finger. “My sister is turning sixteen next week.” He kisses my middle finger. “And we’re having a little sweet sixteen party.” He kisses my ring finger. “What do you say, will you go with me?” He kisses my pinky.
I pull back, suddenly completely out of my sensual haze. “What?”
He tugs on my earlobe. “You heard me.”
“Where?”
“My home. In Florida.”
“Um…” I slide off his lap. “Uh…”
“Next weekend.”
“No.” I shake my head. “No.” I shake my head again. “I can’t do that.”
Both his brows shoot up. “And why not?”
I slide farther away from him. “B-because…” Because…well, I don’t know why because. Wait, yes I do know. Because I’ve never done anything like that before. I don’t think I can, can I? And…what if his family hates me?
West grabs my legs and slides me back. “Tell you what, we’ll go as friends. It’ll be just like you and Anne going somewhere.”
Me and West are definitely not like me and Anne.
“My family’s great. My dad will be there and my sister. Gramma and my cousin. You’ll see. You’ll fit in perfectly.”
I look into his dark pleading eyes and everything in me turns to mush. “Will your mom be there, too?”
Sadness flicks across his face, like the last time I mentioned his mom, and just as quickly its gone. He shakes his head. “No.”
That sadness is the reason why I find myself saying, “Okay.”
His eyes widen. “Really?”
I nod. “Really.”
Grabbing the front of my hoodie, West tugs me toward him and plants a quick kiss to my lips at the exact same second Anne peeks her head over the soundboard. “West and Eve sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G.” She makes a couple of annoying smooching noises, and I turn about a million shades of pink and red and probably purple.
West laughs as he gets to his feet and helps me up, too. He gives Anne a playful shove. “You’re infuriating. Go away.”
The guys begin to filter on stage, and West goes to join them. I tuck my ball cap back on and straighten my clothes, and Anne gets right in my face. “Tongue and all?”
I flush and look away.
“Oh, no you don’t.” She gets right in my face again. “Tongue and all?”
I nod, my face getting even hotter.
She hoots. “That’s what I’m talking about!”
“Shh,” I hush her, giving in and letting an enormous smile split my cheeks.
I just kissed West Wolf. Tongue and all.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Though no one has ever told me, and I have absolutely no experience, I still know how things work. I’ve read books. I know how a guy’s body works. A girl’s. The mechanics of sex. Up to this point that’s how I’ve always thought of it: mechanics.
Something’s definitely different now. A longing I never had before. It’s almost like my body isn’t really my body. It’s like some big toggle has been moved from OFF to ON. Big time ON, as evidence by what I’m doing right now, standing beside Ford at the soundboard, staring up at West on stage. I can’t seem to take my eyes off of him.
His voice washes over me, and it’s like he’s physically touching me.
I shift a little and glance around the packed venue, taking in the girls who are singing right along with him. Do they feel the same way I do? This odd sensitivity that almost makes me edgy?
West closes his eyes and hums one part of the song, and it vibrates down my spine.
I grab my water bottle and take a swig, trying to alleviate a thirst that doesn’t seem to want to be quenched.
He opens his eyes then and looks right at me, or at least I think he’s looking right at me.
I take another swig and try to look away, but I can’t. His gaze. It’s like he’s silently reminding me of the kisses we shared just hours ago here at the soundboard.
The cinnamon—oh, God, I wanted to suck it right out of his mouth.
His lips crook up then, and something hums through me. Can he really see me standing here beside Ford, surrounded by all these thousands of singing fans? I think he can. He has to. There’s no other way he can be affecting me like this.
Is there?
Ford leans over, and I jump.
He laughs. “You okay?”
“Yeah, sorry. Need something?”
He nods toward stage. “Just need my silver hard case. It should be near the monitor mixer.”
And that’s how the rest of the night goes. Me running errands for Ford, the concert continuing, equipment breakdown, Anne heading off to party, West getting ushered to a VIP thing, and me going back to the hotel alone.
It’s one in the morning by the time I let myself into our room. I head straight into the bathroom, and as I strip for my shower, I find the remaining stickers in my back pocket. We didn’t put any of them on. We got a little sidetracked.
West gave me stickers. Stickers. Sure I’ve been given presents over the years—a monogrammed necklace, a flowery dress, a silver hairbrush…but they were things a “perfect” girl should have. I was never given something like stickers, something I really would’ve liked and wanted.
After I finish undressing, I glance up to my naked reflection and stand for a second just staring. Normally, I don’t look at myself, but something has me pausing to take my reflection in. I look at the fake blue hair, my green eyes, and the few freckles that scatter my nose. I go lower to my B-size breasts and the mole on my lower left hip. I look at my slightly muscled legs with a tan line where my running shorts hit.
I turn left, then right, and peek over my shoulder for a rear view. I study the scars on my back, some flat and white, others darker, and a few raised. I brush my fingers over them and wonder what West will think of them if he ever sees them. He’s obviously seen other girls naked, and I try to visualize myself through his eyes. I wonder how I will compare to them.
I turn front again and put my hands on my small breasts. I squeeze them lightly, imagining West doing it instead. Closing my eyes, I trail my fingers down further over my flat stomach and into an area I only touch if I’m washing.
A shaky breath leaves my lips as I start to explore. I don’t really know what to do, all I know is that it feels good, and I don’t want to stop. My hips start to slowly circle with a rhythm they’re creating on their own.
Way down deep tension builds, and I reach out with my left hand and grip the side of the sink. I squeeze my thighs together, and suddenly it’s not my hand, it’s West’s. A moan escapes me, and I squeeze my eyes tight as I find more of a rhythm and pressure continues to climb until it peaks, and my muscles pulse in cadence with my quick breaths.
I have no clue how much time passes, but finally the tremors pass, and I stumble over to sit down on the edge of the tub. I take in a couple of deep exhausted breaths and lick my dry lips. What will that feel like with West, I wonder. The same? Different? More intense I’m sure.
You’ll go straight to Hell if you touch your body.
I shake my head. No, I won’t.
There’s nothing special about you.
“Yes, there is,” I whisper and imagine taking those thoughts, cr
umbling them like pieces of paper, and stuffing them in the garbage. “Stay. Out. Of. My. Head.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Early the next morning Anne shoves a brownie in her mouth and chases it with black coffee. “Ugh. Why do I drink? I hate being hungover.”
“I hate when you’re hungover, too.” She’s always grouchy.
Anne makes a face at me, and I make one back.
She takes another bite of brownie. “What did you do last night?”
I immediately think of me in the bathroom. “Nothing. Came back here.”
“You didn’t see West?”
I shake my head. “He had some VIP thing.”
Anne blows on her coffee, studying me.
“What?” I ask.
“We haven’t really had a chance to talk. So…is he a good kisser?”
Not that I have anything to compare it to, but I still say, “Yes.”
“Go ahead.” Anne points at me. “You know you want to smile.”
I do, but I hold it back, mainly because I know it’s going to drive her crazy.
She sniffs and dabs at completely dry eyes. “My little girl’s all grown up.”
I laugh. “Shut up.”
“So did he like feel anything?” She sashays her shoulders. “You know. Like your boobs or anything?”
“God, Anne. Why do you have to be such a perv?”
She lets out an evil little giggle. “So what’s next?”
I shrug. “I don’t know.” More kissing, hopefully. There is no doubt in my mind I want more of that.
“Like a date or something? Or are you guys just going to make out on floors behind soundboards?”
“He asked me to go to his sister’s sweet sixteen.”
Anne’s eyes go wide again. “Shut up. Are you serious?”
I nod, suddenly wondering if maybe I should have said no.
“Eve, that’s huge!”
Panic sets in. It is pretty huge.
“Where?”
“He said his home in Florida.”
Her phone rings, and she checks the display. “Ooh, gotta take this.”
“Can I borrow your iPad?”
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