"I can enjoy both."
Ian gave me an odd look. "You really like that kind of thing?"
Why do you care what I like? A small, snide voice inside me said. After all, we're just a fling. I mean nothing to you.
I pushed aside the pain in my chest.
"I was thinking I might go down to the pit," I told Ian. "Experience the concert firsthand like a real fan, not just watching from backstage."
"And get crushed by a mob of fans? Good luck."
"I am a fan. I'm used to it."
"But you're not a fan anymore. You're working with rock stars, now. You should get to enjoy the perks, like watching backstage without getting trampled on in a mosh pit."
My phone pinged. I suppressed a sigh.
"Sorry. This might be Janet."
"You don't work for her anymore. Tell her to shove off."
"I can't do that."
"Sure you can. Ian snatched my phone from my hand.
"Hey!" I protested.
He looked at the screen. "Darkest Days' Twin Guitarists Voted Most Eligible Bachelors," he read out loud. He looked to me with a raised eyebrow.
I groaned and put my face in my hands.
"This the kind of stuff you usually get notifications on?" He voice held a teasing note.
"Shut up," I grunted.
"You keeping tabs on me?"
"I told you I'm a fan."
Ian put the phone back in my hand. "I'm not sure whether to be flattered or creeped out."
"It's not like I'm stalking you. I need to keep up to date with Darkest Days news for my job."
"News like which member of the band has captured the hearts of women everywhere?"
"It's not my fault that's the kind of news that gets shared online," I grumbled.
"I'll have to blame the media on that one, then." He handed me back my phone with a grin. "You're too cute."
"Ten minutes, guys," August called from near the curtain as he peeked out, surveying the concert hall.
"Give me fifteen," I heard Damon call back with a dark chuckle.
I looked around but couldn't see Ian's brother.
"He's probably getting head from some girl in a dark corner." Ian looked torn between being amused and exasperated. "Don't know why he can't leave the fun for after our concerts." Ian gave me a sly look. "Like the kind of fun we're going to have afterwards."
A lump in my throat made it hard to speak. That's what our whole relationship was about. Fun. Two adults having a good time.
"You want to head back to your place after the concert?" I asked.
A pained look crossed his face. "Ah, shit, I forgot." Ian gave me a sorrowful look. "We've got to put in an appearance at a VIP party after the concert. I won't be free for hours."
He genuinely seemed sorry. He actually did want to spend more time with me.
Or maybe he just wanted to spend more time between my legs. The thought sent an unwanted spike of pain through my heart.
This is getting ridiculous, I scolded myself. Get your feelings under control.
"I'll make it up to you." Ian traced my lower lip with his thumb, a sensual caress, almost as good as a kiss. My breathed hitched. "Why don't you come over to my place tomorrow night? We can make dinner. Maybe watch a movie."
But from the look in his eyes, I could tell he was imagining a hundred dirty things he could do to make it up to me.
Chapter Twenty-Three
As I got ready for dinner at Ian's place the next day, a small part of me couldn't help cheering. It was like a date. Maybe he did have feelings for me after all.
My head reminded me that we weren't in a relationship. He wasn't my boyfriend. I certainly wasn't his girlfriend. But my heart wouldn't listen. It still pumped madly at the thought of finally being alone, like a proper couple. Would he cook for me himself? Would there be candles? I was trying to anticipate how romantic the mood might be that evening.
The text messages he sent me all day didn't make it any better. They were half sweet and half dirty.
I've missed spending time alone with you, sweetheart.
There's no better feeling in the world than sinking my cock inside you.
Can't wait to hold you in my arms again.
I'm going to make you come so many times you'll be begging me to stop.
Those texts flustered me in more ways than one. By the time I found myself at Ian's condo apartment I was a bundle of nerves.
"You look amazing." Ian stood in the open doorframe, eyes wandering over my body as if he were a man starved of food and I was a tasty meal. The black bodycon dress I'd borrowed from Faith's closet had been a good choice.
He wore a simple white t-shirt, tight over his chest. His jeans hung low on his hips, practically molded to his legs. When I glanced up, I was met with bright green eyes and a heated stare.
My stomach did flips.
Ian was wrong. He was the amazing one.
"You look good, too." I tried not to sound breathless. I must not have done a good enough job because he tilted his head and smirked. To my relief, he didn't comment.
"Hope you like Italian." He opened the door wide and ushered me in with an arm around my waist.
"I like food in general."
A delicious smell wafted through the air as I entered, tomatoes and herbs.
Ian's condo was a vast open concept space, modern and chic. Cream-colored leather furniture complimented the black and white abstract art on the walls. His kitchen was off to the side with a large island counter, marble-topped. Four tall barstools in front of it. There was no dining room table. There were, however, several guitars and amps in a corner near the balcony doors. I went to go touch one before pulling back.
"Are these expensive?"
"A few of them. That one over there was my first." He pointed to one covered in stickers and scuff marks. "It's a piece of shit, but I can't get rid of it."
"Wait, do you play in here?" I asked, aghast. "Don't your neighbors complain?"
"What neighbors? This is the penthouse suite. I have the entire floor to myself."
I glanced around. "It doesn't seem that big."
"I've got a couple extra bedrooms and a small recording studio of my own down that hallway."
I hadn't noticed the hallway. This wasn't an open concept apartment. This whole area was only the living room. I tried to keep my mouth from gaping open. How much did this place cost?
Then again, he was a rock star. Of course Ian would be able to afford an entire penthouse right in the heart of downtown.
I wandered over to the far wall to gaze out of the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city. Everything looked so small from up here. So insignificant.
"You getting overwhelmed?" he teased, wrapping his arms around me from behind.
"A little."
"Soon you'll be able to afford a fancy place like mine."
"Never in my wildest dreams could I afford a place like this."
"You just scored a sweet gig, working as our Image Consultant. Who knows where that might lead?"
"I'm just another intern. You're a famous rock star. I know where I stand."
"You're wrong. We're equals, Hope." He ran a hand through his hair, rueful. "If anything, you're more important than me."
I gave him a skeptical look. "You can't possibly think that."
"Do you know how many musicians are out there waiting to be discovered? Believe me, if I quit music tomorrow, they'd find a replacement within minutes."
"You're underestimating how much people love you."
"They love Damian. They love the idea of The Twins. No one cares about Ian."
My heart clenched, aching for him. "I care about Ian."
His eyes flicked up to mine, examining me closely, as if trying to discern whether I was lying or not. I don't know what he saw in my eyes, but he pulled me forward, brushing his lips against mine, a not-quite kiss. "That's why you're different," he murmured into my mouth. "That's why you're special."
Those pretty words again. I'd come to both love them and loathe them.
I wanted to hear more.
I wanted him to stop saying them.
I wanted to believe he meant them.
I knew better than to hope he was telling the truth.
I stepped away from the circle of his arms, giving myself space. "What are we having for dinner?"
He tugged me close again, our fronts pressed together. "I know what I'm having for dinner."
The wicked grin he gave me made my stomach do flips.
"We don't want dinner to get cold."
"It'll keep," he dismissed. "Right now there's something I want even more."
"How about we save that for after?" I didn't know if I wanted to have sex while my feelings were still so tangled up.
Ian almost pouted. It was cute.
"After, then," he agreed.
The food was simple but delicious. Fresh, handmade pasta dressed in light olive oil and parmesan sauce with diced tomatoes. I had to keep myself from moaning when I took my first bite.
"This is amazing. Did you make it?"
Ian laughed. "Hell no. I have no idea how to use half the gadgets in my kitchen. I ordered in. I can make bacon, pancakes, sometimes omelets, and ramen noodles. That's it."
"Sometimes omelets?"
"It usually ends up being scrambled eggs."
"It's good to be aware of one's strengths and weaknesses."
"And you? Can you cook?"
"I sort of had to learn how. My dad worked all the time so my sister and I took turns after my mom—" I cut myself off and looked down, twirling the pasta with my fork.
Ian put his hand on mine. "Is she…?"
"She passed away when I was young. Car accident."
He spun me around on the rotating chair to face him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."
"It's okay. It was a long time ago."
He must have recognized the pained look on my face. "Even though it was a long time ago, that kind of thing never really heals."
"It wasn't just her death. It was—" I cut myself off. I didn't want to ruin the evening with my teenaged angst.
"You can tell me." Ian's voice was so sincere.
I debated for long moments. I hadn't confessed my feelings like this to anyone before. I'd never had anyone I felt comfortable enough unloading on. It wasn't exactly a pleasant conversation starter. But Ian had always listened to me, even in the beginning. He seemed to genuinely care. Maybe I could trust him. Maybe he would understand.
"After losing mom, our dad just kind of… stopped. I don't think he ever recovered. He spent all his time working. He was never home, and when he was it was like Faith and I weren't even there. I think… he couldn't stand the sight of us. We reminded him too much of our mother."
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay. I'm over it. We grew up, moved out and moved on." I blinked back the sting of tears at the back of my eyes. "So Faith and I have only each other to rely on. We've always had each other's backs."
"It's good to have a sibling help you get through the hard times."
Ian appeared startled at himself and glanced away.
"Has Damon helped you through stuff?" I asked carefully.
He was silent for a moment before lifting one shoulder in a casual shrug.
"Just the usual bullshit that comes with being famous. You know."
I didn't know. But I wanted to.
"You guys went on hiatus, right? Did that have something to do with it?"
Ian stiffened. "Why would you think that?" he said slowly.
"Just curious." I tried to play it off lightly. "Some of the other interns were talking the other day. I was wondering. I remember reading about it in the news."
"We needed a break."
"Is that all?"
"Yeah."
I wasn't satisfied with that answer, but I knew it was the only one I was going to get.
He stood abruptly. "I'm going to go get us dessert."
I watched his retreating back as he headed into the kitchen.
Ian had secrets. Secrets he obviously didn't want to share with me. And why would he? I wasn't anyone special. I wasn't his confidant. I was just the girl he was sleeping with.
It was obvious I would never be anything more.
My phone buzzed. A welcome distraction. I peeked at it. Another Darkest Days update.
The screen displayed an entire gallery of the guys at different parties. In every photo they had their arms around a woman. Sometimes multiple women.
My eyes were drawn to the photos of Ian and Damon. On that small screen, I couldn't tell who was who. There were a handful of pictures where they were locking lips with some girl.
I didn't want to believe it was Ian. I couldn't. He was different. Ian thought I was different. There was a real connection between us. But it wasn't true, was it?
The sweet things Ian said had gotten to me. Made me think maybe we had something more. But they were no doubt the same words he said to every girl to get them into bed.
I thought I could do it. I thought, if I went in with my eyes wide open, I could get involved with Ian without getting attached.
But from the way my heart ached at seeing those pictures, I'd long lost that battle.
My phone buzzed again.
"I know that's not me texting. You got another guy on the side?" Ian's voice came from behind me, light and teasing.
"It's my sister." I skimmed her text.
Guess who I ran into again? Mr. All-Girls-Drop-Their-Panties-For-Me.
What? Where?
My boss had some meeting at your company. Talking about some launch party, I dunno. I nearly kicked him in the balls.
Lips pressed to the back of my neck. I inhaled a sharp breath.
"Faith sounds feisty," Ian said, continuing to place kissed along my exposed throat.
I held my phone to my chest. "It's not polite to read someone's private text messages."
"But what if it wasn't your sister? What if it was another guy sexting you? I might have to get jealous."
A sharp stabbing pain shot through my chest. I pulled away. "Stop."
"Stop what?" He tugged me back against his chest. "Stop this?" He latched onto my neck, giving me a sucking kiss.
Stop pretending you care.
I didn't voice the words aloud. I didn't want him to think I was falling for him like all his other fangirls and groupies. It would probably give him great satisfaction to know he was starting to get to me. That's what Ian did. Made you fall for him, then left you for the next girl.
"Maybe I need to send you a few more messages to make sure," he continued, lifting his lips from my throat.
"Make sure what?"
"Make sure you remember exactly what I can give you that other men can't."
"And what is that, exactly?"
I felt the wicked curve of his lips against my neck. He slid his hand down my front to the heat between my legs.
Sex. That was it. It certainly wasn't anything else.
It certainly wasn't love.
Ian's fingers caressed the valley of my panties, tracing the folds he'd been buried inside numerous times before. The ache between my legs didn't come close to the ache in my chest.
I couldn't do this anymore.
I removed his arm and stood up, walking a few feet away to give myself space. I kept reminding myself I had known what I was getting into. No commitment. No expectations. Ian and I were just having fun, and that's it. There I'd been, thinking about some sort of romantic evening, when all Ian expected was casual sex.
It was one thing to like Ian, to be attracted to him, to have a fangirl crush on him. It was another thing entirely to start developing real feelings when I knew he would never return them. That was unacceptable.
I wasn't going to let myself fall any further. I wasn't going to wait for him to break my heart.
"I think we should stop."
He tilted his head, confu
sed. "Stop what? Stop sexting?" He cracked a grin. "You worried someone's going to read my filthy messages?
"No. I mean, I think we should stop… this."
Ian's eyes grew wide and confused.
"Our fling," I clarified.
He was stunned for a moment before shaking his head, chuckling. "You can't mean you're breaking up with me."
He honestly thought the idea was absurd. Of course. It was always the rock star who did the dumping.
"It's not a break up. You said it yourself. This is just a fling."
“But…. Why?" He was utterly astounded.
I couldn't tell him the real reason. That I was starting to fall for him. That I knew he would never feel the same. "I just think it's time."
Ian clamped his mouth shut, jaw muscles twitching. His eyes flicked away, avoiding mine.
"Let's just go back to the way things were," I told him. "You can keep on partying and flirting and bringing girls home."
And I'll continue bringing myself off, alone, to thoughts of you.
He rubbed at his wrist cuff again, fidgeting, like a nervous habit. I held my breath, wondering how he was going to react.
"You're right," he said after a long moment. "Maybe it's time we ended things."
A jab of pain went right through my heart. I'd hoped…
But no. Of course he wouldn't ask me to stay. I was just a fun distraction to him.
"So. This is it?" Ian met my gaze, green eyes shuttered.
"Yeah. Let's forget it ever happened and continue working together as colleagues. I don't want things to be awkward."
The muscles in his jaw shifted again, as if he were biting back words. His fists clenched at his sides. He must have always been the one to break it off. He probably had no idea how to react.
"We agreed, remember? We can handle this like adults."
Ian stared at me for several seconds, as if he were seeing straight through me. "Right. Like we agreed." After several more long moments, he glanced away, not meeting my eyes.
I slowly grabbed my purse from a side table and edged towards the door. "So. I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Yeah."
He was still turned away. Was I the first person to have ever called it off?
Hard Rock Fling: A Rock Star Romance Page 14
