Paige climbed over him and forced him to look at her. “Everyone has baggage, Dylan. Everyone. I’m a mess too, you know.”
He gave a mirthless laugh. “Paige, you aren’t a mess. You’re a little uptight and structured, but you certainly aren’t a mess.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. I let everyone walk all over me—especially my family. I have daddy issues, I have petty jealousy issues with my sister, and I’m a bit neurotic about making sure I keep it together all the time, and it’s starting to make me crazy.”
“And that’s why the last thing you need in your life is someone like me. I’m always going to be someone who draws attention for the wrong reasons. People don’t forget the bad stuff you do, and I did a lot of it. And it doesn’t matter how long I stay clean and sober—it’s always going to be how people refer to me: ‘former bad boy’ or ‘former alcoholic.’ My counselor in rehab told me it’s a title I shouldn’t shy away from. Getting over my addiction is a big accomplishment so if I can say former, that’s a good thing.”
“It is,” she said encouragingly.
But he shook his head. “I want to move on from that. I want to be recognized for my music, for who I am now. I don’t want to keep looking back or having my past thrown back at me.”
Sighing, she leaned down and hugged him. “I don’t know what to say. I’ve never been in that position to the same degree.”
Dylan shifted and lifted her up so he could see her face. “What do you mean to the same degree?”
It was easier to climb off him. Shifting, she pulled the sheet up to cover herself. She knew it was crazy considering everything they had just done, but right now, she needed a little bit of a shield.
“I work for my father. I’ve always worked for my father. And he made me start out at the bottom and work my way up to where I am now.”
“Did he do that with Ariel?”
She nodded. “Not as much. She was promoted much faster than I was, but it was because she presented a more polished image. She always has.” Another sigh. “I was awkward and shy, and I didn’t mind doing the grunt work behind the scenes. After a while, I almost blended into the background. And it was fine. Really. Then people started talking like I must be the idiot daughter if my father was too embarrassed to let me work up on the executive floor.”
“People said that?” he asked incredulously.
“Oh yeah. I overheard it, and I guess my dad did too because a week later, I got promoted. The first campaign I got assigned to, I was given the task of putting together the PowerPoint presentation. I was a whiz at that sort of thing, and it meant I was still behind the scenes while being part of the executive team.”
“So what happened?”
“I was left out of a crucial meeting with the client. And when we did our presentation, half of the information was wrong. My father was mortified and he let me know how disappointed he was in front of everyone. It was a couple of years ago, and I still have people asking me if I remembered to go to all the meetings and are always double-checking my work before any clients see it.”
She hung her head as she finished speaking, too ashamed for Dylan to see her.
His hand twisted in her long hair with a gentle tug. “Hey,” he said softly, and Paige had no choice but to look at him. “I’m sorry. I hate that you have to deal with that.”
She shrugged. “I’m used to it. I hate it though. It was one time, and it wasn’t my fault that I was excluded from the meeting and not given the updated information. But whenever I bring that up, I’m told I’m making excuses.”
Dylan was quiet for a moment. “That’s why you do it, don’t you? That’s why you take on so much and make sure everything goes smoothly. You’re trying to prove yourself.”
Busted. And all she could do was nod.
He cursed under his breath and sat up. “When will it be enough? When are you going to see that you’re good enough? That you’re talented and freaking great at your job? Are you waiting for your father to say ‘good job’? Will that make you relax?”
“Honestly, I don’t know!” she cried. “I can’t remember him ever saying those words to me where this job is concerned. He used to say it to me regarding school and my grades, but not once has he said it at work.”
“Does he say it to your sister?”
It was like someone kicked her in the stomach. Of course he said it to Ariel. She was like his mini-me, for crying out loud! She sighed loudly. This was not the conversation she wanted to have after what they had just shared.
She lowered the sheet, exposing her breasts to his gaze once again. Then she stretched and noticed Dylan’s whole demeanor instantly changed.
He had her pinned beneath him a second later. “Nice distraction method,” he said gruffly.
Feeling playful, she rubbed her breasts against his chest. “Glad you liked it. I never tried it before. I may need practice with perfecting it.”
He chuckled. “Baby, you don’t need practice for anything. You’re already perfect.”
And damn if that didn’t make her heart squeeze a little.
“Oh yeah?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
Slowly, she repeated the motion and gave him a sexy grin. “That had nothing to do with distractions. That was all for pleasure. I like pressing up against you. I like how warm your skin is.”
Dylan lowered his head to her shoulder and kissed her there. “Yours is warm too. And soft. And so damn sweet.”
She let out a small moan as she raked her hands through his hair.
A knock at the door had them both going still. “Ignore it,” he said before he went back to trailing kisses from one breast to the other.
She remembered her order with the concierge. How was it possible two hours had gone by already? “You should answer it.”
Dylan lifted his head. “Seriously? You want me to get up now and answer the door?”
She nodded. “It could be important.”
“It could also be nobody. Or housekeeping. I don’t need fresh towels. Trust me.” More kisses. And another knock at the door.
“Room service!” a voice called out.
That had Dylan jumping up. “Room service? They must have the wrong room. Wait here.” Grabbing his jeans, he was slipping them on when Paige called out to him.
“They don’t have the wrong room,” she said with another catlike stretch. “I placed an order before I came up here.”
He arched a dark brow at her. “Really?”
“Mm-hmm. Now go let them in and hurry back.” Paige watched as he left the room and closed the door behind him for her privacy. Part of her was feeling self-conscious and like she should crawl under the blankets, but her new inner vixen told her to stay exactly where she was because Dylan would be back any minute.
And he was.
The bedroom door opened, and he walked in carrying a silver tray.
“Care to explain this?” he asked with amusement.
“I would have thought it was obvious.” Rolling onto her side, she rested her head in her hand. “I figured we’d be hungry right about now, so a little snack was in order.”
He nodded. “Strawberries and cream. Excellent choice.”
“And I knew I was going to crave something sweet.”
“That explains the cake pops.”
“And if you’ll give me a few minutes, the last item will make complete sense.”
Ten minutes later, Paige sighed as she rested her back against Dylan’s chest.
“Um…I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be doing here,” he said with more than a little uncertainty.
“You’re supposed to relax and enjoy this. Doesn’t it feel amazing?”
“I guess.”
This time her sigh wasn’t one of pleasure but mild annoyance. “You’ve never taken a bubble bath?
Seriously?”
“Maybe when I was five. But in case you haven’t noticed, I’m a guy. Guy’s don’t take bubble baths.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, they do.”
“Not real ones,” he murmured.
“So you’re going to sit there and tell me the hot water doesn’t feel good? That the jasmine and vanilla don’t smell amazing?” Carefully she turned around and stretched out on top of him. “And that being naked with me in the tub isn’t fun?”
“Baby, having you naked anywhere is fun. This seems like a lot of work when we’re both going to get up and go back to the bed.”
Paige playfully splashed him. “Come on,” she said with a small laugh. “How can you not be enjoying this? When I was here Friday, all I wanted to do was come in here and test this tub out. This entire bathroom is amazing.”
“That’s what you were thinking of while you were here? Taking a bath?” he asked with mock offense.
She laughed again. “Well…it wasn’t all I thought about. But it certainly played a big part in my fantasies.”
Dylan’s eyes lit up. “Oh, yeah? Tell me. Were they naughty fantasies? Did you need to take a bath because you were so dirty?” he asked lecherously.
Now she cracked up. “You are such a perv! Knock it off!”
Dylan laughed with her and hugged her close. With a kiss on the top of her head, he shifted them around until they were in their original position. “Okay, so a bubble bath was part of your fantasy, huh?”
Paige nodded. “It was. I’m a bit of a sucker for a soaking tub. I had one when we were growing up, but my condo doesn’t have one. I dream of owning a house someday with a spa-like bathroom.”
Behind her, Dylan was quiet.
“Of course, that’s a long way off. Real estate in California is ridiculous. As it is, my condo payments are sucking my will to live.” Then she shrugged. “Still, a girl can dream.”
She snuggled a little more against him and was rewarded with his wonderful hands coming up and cupping her breasts. She let out a soft sigh, resting her head on his shoulder.
“The bathroom I had in my house was twice the size of this one,” Dylan said gruffly. “Maybe even three times. The tub was huge and the shower could fit four people easily.”
She didn’t want to think about how he could know that.
“And I can’t remember ever using the tub. It was a great selling point for the house, but it was never something that was on my radar.”
“Do you miss it? The house, not the bathroom,” she quickly added.
Dylan laughed softly. “No. It was… I don’t know. It was the first thing I bought when Shaughnessy made it big. I didn’t need it because we were on the road so much, but I thought it was something I should have. Looking back, I realize how ridiculous it was.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” she reasoned. “There’s nothing wrong with buying a home.”
“That’s it though—it wasn’t a home. It was a house. It was a status symbol. It was far too big for one person, especially one who was never around.”
His voice sounded…odd. Not sad, not detached, but…odd. Turning her head slightly, she looked up at him. “Is that why you decided to sell it?”
“No. It held too many bad memories of who I used to be. I didn’t want that sort of thing around my neck like a constant reminder.”
“Dylan, you do realize that not everything about you and the way you used to be was bad, right?”
The look on his face was one of complete disbelief. “You didn’t know me before, Paige. You have no idea—”
She held up one hand to cut him off. “No, I didn’t know you before, but it doesn’t mean anything. I’ve done my homework where you’re concerned, and let me tell you, you’re wrong about how you view yourself.”
He started to push her away to stand up, but she maneuvered around so she was straddling his lap again. “Hear me out,” she began. “You are an incredibly gifted musician. I’ve heard the music you did with Shaughnessy and I’ve heard the music you played with other groups. Anyone who talks about your musical skill does it with awe. When the band went on hiatus, you were in high demand. Why? Not because you drank, Dylan, but because you are an amazing bass player!”
“Paige—”
“You grew up in South Carolina as an only child. Your parents are always quoted sharing stories of how you’ve been playing music since you were a small child—piano, guitar, harmonica, anything you could get your hands on. You played music at church, at parties, and for some of their work functions.”
His eyes went wide, but he stayed silent.
“Your dad’s a bank manager and your mom is an administrative assistant at the middle school in your hometown. Every year, you donate money to the music department at her school and you’ve even gone and talked to the students about the importance of music in their lives. And you did all that long before you went into rehab, so you can’t use that as an excuse.”
“I haven’t gone back since though,” he said with a hint of defense.
“But you will,” she countered smugly. “It’s part of who you are. You’ll go back when you’re ready, and you’ll have an even more important message to share with those kids.”
“Right. Because it’s important to talk to them about how I screwed up my life.”
“As a matter of fact, it is,” she said firmly. “Dylan, not everyone gets a chance to turn their life around. Most people don’t think it’s possible. You can show them that it is. You can give them hope.”
She could see the range of emotions in his eyes—the anger, the disbelief, the annoyance, and…the vulnerability. Deep down, she knew he wanted to believe her, to believe that he was someone who deserved to be happy and be an inspiration.
To overcome his past.
This totally wasn’t the conversation she envisioned them having while naked in the bathtub. And besides, she felt like she’d pushed him enough for the time being.
It was time to take it down a notch in the conversation department and ratchet it up in another.
Slowly, she bent her head and kissed his jaw.
“Paige…”
Then she licked her way down his neck and then up again. She bit his earlobe and heard his soft hiss, and when his hand came up and splayed across her lower back, effectively holding her to him, she knew they were on the same page. Dylan’s head slowly fell back and he seemed more than happy to let her have her way with him.
Funny how she was beginning to enjoy doing that as well.
He was addictive—the taste of him, the texture of his skin. It was like she couldn’t get enough. And as she continued to explore him, Paige knew she needed to take advantage of this time together.
Because her homework on Dylan not only showed her that he had some great qualities—it also showed that he had a short attention span.
Chapter 7
It took a lot to impress someone as cynical as Dylan, and yet in the past week, the Walters family managed to do that.
The Tuesday after Paige had shown up at his hotel room found him looking at an article online that effectively proved Morgan Lewis had lied. The media was now attacking her for lying about Dylan while he was trying to get his life back on track, and he felt only a minimal amount of pity for her.
Suddenly he was trending on social media, with people cheering him on and talking about how sorry they were that people were trolling him and trying to defame him. He was getting calls from outlets looking to interview him and get his spin on the whole thing. Both Robert Walters and Mick advised him not to respond, to let the professionals handle it.
So yeah, he was impressed with the way PRW had handled this whole situation.
Then there was Paige. That same day, he had been sitting next to her at a conference room table listening to… He had no idea. He was too distracted b
y the woman sitting beside him. She was dressed as she usually was, except now he knew what she had on underneath. And when she crossed her legs, he saw the top of the thigh-high tights she was wearing and caught a glimpse of that soft skin he loved to touch.
Knowing how Paige was a stickler about business, he had debated about whether to test the waters with her in this particular area.
Boy was he glad he had!
At the first touch of his finger on her knee, she had uncrossed her legs—slowly and in a way that no one would have noticed. When his hand traveled higher and inched under her skirt, she’d spread her legs a bit to give him more to explore.
He still had no idea how she’d kept from letting everyone in the room know what he was doing to her because he was ready to start panting from the images in his mind. She was sexy and intriguing, and she managed to surprise him more and more every day.
They worked together, they went out in public together, had been photographed doing all those things, and it didn’t seem to faze her in any way, shape, or form. She smiled when she was supposed to and posed when they needed to and then went on with whatever it was they had been doing without complaint.
It was…weird. In the past, women he dated tended to either love or hate the camera. Okay, most of them loved it and would become blatantly pissed off if they felt they weren’t getting enough attention from the paparazzi. But not Paige. It was such a nonissue with her that it almost made him want to make an issue of it to find out how she really felt.
Now that was weird, right?
Either way, he was impressed with her because she fit seamlessly into his crazy world, and got him out and enjoying life again. It was amazing how one carefully placed comment to the press could change everything! He no longer felt he had to hide out in his hotel room or punish himself by living in solitary confinement. He was playing music every day and starting to write some new stuff that he couldn’t wait to share with the band when they got together to jam next week.
After talking with both Matt and Riley, they decided on a weekend sort of thing in North Carolina, at Matt’s new place. He and Vivienne had moved into a house they had renovated to fit both of their needs and, according to Matt, it included a state-of-the-art studio. It meant being out of town, but after checking his schedule, he saw there wasn’t anything planned for him with the campaign, and he was free of any commitments.
One More Promise Page 17
