Drew drives into me a few more times before groaning what sounds like my name mixed with numerous curse words. We collapse on the bed together. “That was worth your game of twenty questions.”
* * *
I wake up to see the sun shining through the enormous windows in Drew’s room. When I look around, I don’t see him anywhere. I do hear a lot of voices downstairs, though. It’s a Saturday morning, what the hell are so many people doing here? I get up with every intention of getting dressed, but realize my clothes never made it upstairs. Walking over to Drew’s dresser, I grab a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt with his band’s name on it.
As I walk down the stairs, I see people coming and going through the house. I feel so out of place, confused, and lost. If I’m going to make it in Drew Walker’s world, I am definitely going to need some coffee first. The people who pass me barely even notice I’m there, one guy even steps on my foot. Coffee, just focus on coffee and everything will get better after that. I’m surprised to see Drew in the kitchen pouring a cup of the ambrosia I had been searching for.
“Want some?”
The look in his eye tells me he is referring to more than coffee, but right now that’s not happening. I sit down on one of the stools at his counter. “Yes, please. Sugar and milk if you have it.” He places the cup in front of me before taking the seat next to me. “So, is your house always this busy?”
He laughs. “Fuck no. My publicist sent them all over because she is freaking out about that thing we are going to tomorrow. I didn’t even bother to go to it last year and everyone got really pissy. Now I’m going and everyone is still nuts.”
“You never told me where we’re going.” I’m hoping it’s somewhere calm and casual.
“The Grammy’s.”
I spit my coffee out all over him. His white t-shirt is now splattered with brown stains but I don’t give a shit right now. “I’m sorry, what?!”
“What’s the big deal?” he says as he’s trying to dry himself off with a paper towel.
What’s the big deal?! Is he that moronic? “It’s the Grammy’s! You never said that! I assumed it was a party or something.” He just shrugs his shoulders. I swear to God men are the most idiotic, insensitive, and did I mention idiotic species on the damn planet!
“Whatever, the only reason I’m even going this year is because the label threw a bitch fit when I skipped it last year.”
Skipped out on the Grammy’s? Who the hell does that? I can’t even respond to the idiocy he is spewing right now. He lets me look dumbfounded for a few minutes, then gets up, kisses me on the forehead like a confused child, and goes to walk away. “Drew, wait, I don’t think I can go. This is huge. I don’t know if I’m ready.”
He walks over to me and places his hands on my hips. I look up at him, and somehow, looking into his eyes almost calms my out of control emotions. “You will be fine. You’re fucking gorgeous, James. They could put you in a damn trash bag and you would still blow everyone else away.” He kisses my lips and I sigh. “Trust me, though, you will be in something much more expensive than a trash bag.”
Drew walks out of the kitchen and I grasp the countertop next to me so I can steady myself. A woman who seems like she might be a few years older comes up to me. “Hi, I’m Felicia. Are you ready for your beauty consultation?”
Um what? “I’m sorry, my what?”
“Your beauty consultation. We need to plan your look for tomorrow.”
Jesus. I scrub my face with my hands and take a page out of Drew’s book. “Let’s get this shit done.” Real classy, Holly.
Her eyes grow big at my expression but she follows me as I exit the kitchen. I spend the next TWO HOURS talking about different hair styles that might make my face look fat or odd shaped, eye shadow colors that will make me have bug eyes, and lip colors that might make me look like a fish. My head is about to burst from all of this and all I want to do is run for the damn hills.
“Hey, is she almost done here?” I look up to find a man standing in front of me. Felicia informs him they are through with me until tomorrow. Thank God. I look at this new guy and assess what type of torture he could have waiting for me. “I’m Lance. C’mon, sweet cheeks, let’s find you a dress.” He winks at me.
I follow him into what looks like it used to be an office. There are racks everywhere filled with dresses that probably cost more than my dad’s house. “Okay, let’s try this one first.” He holds a fire engine red dress out to me. I take it and wait for him to leave, but he just turns around and continues to peruse through the other options.
“Aren’t you going to leave while I put it on?”
He chuckles. “Honey, if you find it necessary I can, but unless you’re packing, I ain’t interested in seeing what’s under your clothes.”
My mouth hangs open as he turns back to the racks. My only thought as I start to get changed is that I need to run away and never come back. I finally get the dress on to find that I, according Lance, look like a five-dollar hooker. The blue one makes me look like a bird. The yellow one makes me look like a puddle of piss. The silver one makes me look like a disco ball. I don’t even want to repeat the feedback on the brown one.
Lance hesitantly turns around and I flinch at whatever words are about to fly out of his mouth. “Now you look Grammy ready, babe.”
I smile and turn around to look in the stand-up mirror he set up by the door. I have on a black halter dress that shimmers from head to toe. The V of the dress dips about two inches past my boobs, and it flows down to the floor with a small train behind me. The only thing that worries me is that my boobs might fall out. “Um, what happens if I have a wardrobe malfunction?”
Lance comes up behind me smiling. “Sweetheart, that’s why God made double sided tape.” Before I know what’s happening, his hands are down the front of my dress adjusting my boobs, and I flinch at the contact. I’m grateful that he isn’t looking in the mirror and seeing my pained face from his contact.
The door opens suddenly and I see Drew walking in staring at his phone. “Hey, how much long—” His sentence is cut short when he sees Lance’s hands down my dress. “What the fuck?” Drew comes toward us aggressively so I step up toward him, hoping to calm him down.
“Drew, stop.” I put my hands on his chest, not that I have even half the strength needed to subdue him.
“Get out of my way. No one touches you.”
“Hold on now, tall, dark, and sexy,” Lance says as he holds up his hands. “You don’t need to worry about me in here with your lady. Now, if it was you in here, my professionalism would definitely be compromised.”
Drew seems confused then it all clicks. “Give us a minute.”
Lance nods, but when reaches the door he turns back toward us. “If you ever need help picking out clothes, call me. I specialize in swimwear.” He winks at Drew before shutting the door and I giggle.
Drew wraps his arms around my waist and lowers his mouth to my neck. “I told you that you would look fucking amazing, didn’t I?” I relax against him. My safe place. “I’m taking you out tonight, be ready in a half-hour.”
He walks out of the room. It amazes me how he can ease me so quickly, how attached I am to him already. Lance walks back into the room and smiles at me. “I’ve been given permission to come in, but I am not allowed to touch or look at you.” We both laugh and he helps me get out of ‘the dress’.
I finish getting my clothes back on. “Thanks so much for your help, Lance. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
He smiles at me. “Yes. Let me just congratulate you, too, girl. I have worked with that hunk of a man before and I never thought I’d see him like he is.”
I furrow my brows at him. “What do you mean?”
“In love. I never thought I would see it, girl, good job.” He walks out of the room before I can respond. I make my way up to the bedroom in almost a daze. When I sit on the bed, all I can think of is what Lance said. In love? Drew can’t be in love with me. He even
told me he really didn’t want commitment. It’s too soon to be in love even if he did want one. Isn’t it?
The door opens and Drew walks in. My heart speeds up and I get the same peaceful feeling I do every time he’s near me. Do I love him? Is Lance seeing something I’m blind to? “You gotta get dressed or we’re gonna be late, James.”
I nod.
He walks toward me until he is standing in front of me, staring into my eyes. “Hey, you okay?” I nod my head again, trying to process all of the thoughts floating around in my head. “Did you lose your voice?”
I laugh. “No, sorry. I’m just a little tired.”
His hands pull me closer to him. “Hmmm, well I would say I’m sorry; however, I plan on making sure you’re very tired tomorrow morning, too. Now get dressed.” He smacks my butt and walks out the door.
I go through my suitcase and pick out an outfit. Once I’m dressed, I look in the mirror and it hits me.
I love Drew Walker.
I’m screwed.
Chapter Nine
As we drive through the city, my neurotic brain is dissecting everything that’s happened over the past of couple days, trying to figure out if Drew feels the same. He came back for me. He said he doesn’t want a girlfriend. He wanted me with him in his house. He doesn’t trust me enough to tell me about his past, but then again, the same goes for me. He seemed completely comfortable with me meeting his family. Half of the time I feel like a possession or a damn trophy. He’s taking me to a public event with him tomorrow. This shit is making my head hurt.
The car stops and we’re in front of the W Hollywood Hotel. Why the heck are we at a hotel? Drew gets out and opens my door while he hands the valet his keys. When we walk in, the lobby is decorated in a red and white color pattern. It looks so expensive in here that I’m scared to walk because I might scratch the floors. There are circular couches, a huge curved staircase with a glass railing, and a magnificent chandelier. Drew pulls me toward the elevator while I’m still staring wide mouthed at everything.
We take the elevator to the top floor, and as it opens, I see doors with the name Drai’s on it. There is a huge line of people waiting to get in and I can feel their dirty looks as Drew pulls me to the front of the line. He gives the doorman his name and they immediately open the doors for us. I hear numerous curses and insults as the door closes behind us. A young girl in a little black dress walks us through what I’m still not sure is a restaurant or a club. The room is lit in shades of red, blue, and gold with couches dispersed around what I think might be a dance floor. Okay, maybe it is a club. I wouldn’t have pictured Drew as the club type. We’re shown to a circular couch surrounding a table with a sign that says ‘reserved’ on it.
“Your waitress will be over shortly, Mr. Walker. Enjoy.”
Drew tips her and then pulls me to sit next to him. “So, what do you think?”
“I think it’s gorgeous in here. What is it, though? I’ve been trying to figure out if it’s a club or a restaurant.”
He laughs. He always seems to be laughing at me. “It’s both if you have enough money. They always have stupid ass parties here but I never go. I’ve heard it’s nice, though, and I thought you might like it.”
I run my fingers through the hair at the back of his neck. Maybe this could work. Maybe he does care about me.
Drew leans into me to whisper in my ear, and as he does, his hand lands on my thigh. My whole body breaks out in goose bumps. “I don’t know how I’m going to keep myself from fucking you right here in this booth, James.” And he ruined it. I have to stop trying to figure him out; I don’t think anyone will ever be able to do that. He kisses me and I get lost in him as I always do. “Do you want to dance?”
I hadn’t even noticed how crowded it got in here within the past couple of minutes. There are people crowding the dance floor. “Is it okay? I mean, I know you usually need to keep a low profile.”
“Babe, this is LA, no one gives a shit.” He takes my hand and leads me to the middle of the floor. His spins me around while holding onto one hand, and when I stop, my back is pressed to his front. I can feel him against me and it makes me gasp. After a minute, I realize neither of us is moving and I start to sway to the music. His hands grip my hips and his chin rests on my shoulder. Every time he moves his head the stubble on his chin grazes me and sends shivers throughout my body.
We’re lost in our own world, his hands skimming lightly over my body in innocent touches. My hands are wrapped around his neck, trying to get as close to him as I can. We don’t even notice what’s coming toward us ‘til it’s too late. A group of drunken idiots got into a fight and they fall into us, catching us off guard and knocking us apart. No one else around seems to notice, but there are people everywhere, and I’m getting claustrophobic. Someone grabs my hips, but when I turn around it isn’t Drew. I do the universal ‘no thank you’ look and hand gesture, but he isn’t taking the hint. He pulls me tighter against him and my body feels like it’s on fire. Not only can I not tolerate his touch, but he’s fucking hurting me.
His head moves closer to me while his hands hold me in place. “You smell good enough to fucking eat.” I feel the nausea coming. I’m going to be sick. I’m no longer in the club, but I’m back to that night months ago. I’m helpless. I need him to let me go. I can’t take this; I think I might pass out. In the blink of an eye, I’m pulled somewhere else with two strong arms holding me close.
“Are you okay?” I look up at Drew. My vision is blurry, though, and I can’t focus on him. My fucking anxiety is killing me right now. “What did you do to her, you sorry piece of shit?!”
The creep shrugs his shoulders and turns away from Drew. He grabs my shoulders. “Give me one second, don’t move an inch.” No arguments here—I don’t even think my legs work right now. He’s looking at me for some acknowledgment and I do the best I can manage and nod.
It all happens so fast—Drew walks up behind the guy, spins him around, and hits him. He falls to the floor like a pile of bricks and then Drew is by my side and walking me toward the door.
I feel numb so it’s almost like he’s half carrying me. When we get into the elevator, I get a whiff of that guy’s scent on me and it all comes back. His hands all over me. It’s not him, though, it’s Chris. I’m back on the floor as he explores my body and all I can do is watch. I’m sobbing from the pain of his touch. I feel someone shaking my shoulders, yelling at me to open my eyes. It’s a struggle, but when I do I see Drew. His face is twisted in what I can only describe as pain and confusion.
“Talk to me. What’s going on?”
We’re on the floor of the elevator and the door dings open. “Can we go home?” Those are the only words I can manage right now. He nods at me. I move to stand up, but before I can, Drew scoops me up into his arms. Thankfully, there are no photographers when we leave the hotel; I’m sure they would have had a field day with this. Drew puts me into the car and I lay my head back, trying to convince my mind that I’m fine, because as far as it’s concerned, I’m reliving that night.
As Drew pulls away, I close my eyes, hoping the dizziness will go away soon. The next thing I know, I feel myself moving and I open my eyes to see Drew’s house. He carries me upstairs, lays me on the bed, and covers me with the blankets. My mind has finally stopped racing and my hands are steady.
When I move to sit up, Drew is next to me in a second. “No, just lie down.” I’m about to object, but then I look in his eyes and see the worry, and I lie back down. I can hear him moving around the room and then the light shuts off. The bed dips next to me and I try to calm down my beating heart. It’s Drew. I’m safe. “Can I help you get undressed? I brought you a t-shirt to sleep in.” I nod my head, the sheets are pulled back, and he lifts my tank top over my head. Next, he slides my skirt down my legs. Finally, he pulls his shirt onto me and I’m surrounded by his scent. It’s relaxing.
Drew climbs under the covers next to me, wrapping an arm around me and pulling me close
to him. He nuzzles my neck and I smile at the contact. I turn to face him and run my fingers over his face. “I want you right now, Holly.”
I nod, knowing that I need him, too. He carefully lifts his t-shirt off of me, and takes off the boxers he’s wearing. Drew moves so that he is above me and kisses me. There’s something different about this one, though. It isn’t desperate and hungry. The way he’s kissing me right now is almost like he’s absorbing me—like we are connecting on a level we haven’t before.
He slowly pushes into me and my nails dig into his shoulders. Neither of us says anything, but we don’t break eye contact, either. I run my hands along the side of his head through his hair. His movements are slow, precise, and delicious. This is not Drew’s normal style. The look in his eye and his gentle nature is intensifying this experience and my body is building toward its release.
Drew lowers his mouth to kiss my neck, and when he hits the spot behind my ear I come apart, moaning his name. He pulls back to look me in the eye. “That is my favorite sound in the world.” I can feel his whole body tense above me just before he finds his own release. I kiss him and swallow his groans.
That was not sex. That was not fucking. Did Drew Walker just make love to me?
* * *
I wake up in the morning to Drew’s fingers slowly caressing me up and down my side. He kisses my shoulder and I smile. I can’t remember a time when have been more happy. I want to tell him how I feel but the fear of rejection is overwhelming. What if he doesn’t say it back? What if I’m reading our relationship completely wrong? What if he runs?
I turn toward him and look in his eyes; something has changed since last night. I can’t put my finger on it, but something is there that I’ve never seen before. I’m about to open up to him and tell him how I feel when the sound of his phone ringing reverberates through the bedroom.
Breaking Free Page 9
