Hard Rock Kiss

by Athena Wright

  The store was technically closed, but I wasn't going to kick out a paying customer. I'd convinced him to only buy three bags of litter and five cans of food for now. If Cleo was picky he could always buy more. I didn't want to risk the rest going to waste.

  "It's not really a pet store," I explained. "We don't have any live animals on site. It's more of an animal accessories and products store."

  "Too bad," he said. "I was looking forward to singing how much is that doggy in the window?"

  I cracked a smile at the children's song reference.

  When I finished ringing everything up and told him the amount, I thought he might wince. He just handed over a gold credit card for me to swipe.

  When I handed him the receipt, he reached out. Instead of taking the receipt, he took my hand. I inhaled sharply as a tingle went through my entire body, from the tips of my fingers, down to my toes, and straight into my very bones.

  "Why'd you walk out on me?" he asked.

  My eyes jumped to his. He was staring at me. His fingertips rested against my inner wrist. Could he feel my pulse through the thin skin? Could he tell how fast my heart was beating?

  "Why would I have stayed?" I asked.

  "I could have made you bacon and eggs this morning." He offered with a languid smile.

  I looked down at our conjoined hands. His large, warm palm engulfed mine.

  "I didn't think rock stars did the morning-after-breakfast thing—"

  I stumbled over the end of that sentence as his thumb stroked back and forth along my wrist. Every swipe sent my thoughts scattering. My lips parted, but sounds wouldn't come.

  He picked up the heavy shopping bags in both hands and turned to leave. Just before exiting, he turned back and threw me a wink.

  "If you had stayed, maybe you would have found out."

  7

  "What do you think?" Tracey asked me, eyes bright and excited as she cornered me during one of my volunteer shifts.

  "I love it," I told her.

  Tracey's idea for a winter holidays in July event for the children's ward was genius. It would give the kids something to look forward to, give them a reason to throw a party with presents and sweets and games. We could celebrate Christmas, New Years, and all the other holidays that took place around the winter solstice. I was sure the kids would love it.

  Tracey beamed at me. "Wonderful, then you can get started planning it right away."

  "Wait, what?" I asked.

  "Thanks a million, Becca!" she said with a wave as she quickly made her way into one of the hospital rooms.

  I stood there as the door closed in my face, then groaned, defeated, and went to gather my things.

  How did I always get roped into doing this kind of stuff?

  Nathan would probably say I was too nice.

  And there my thoughts went again, back to Nathan Walker.

  I hadn't been able to get him out of my head. Not that night we'd spent together, and not our encounter at the pet shop.

  He'd asked me why I'd walked out on him.

  Wasn't the answer obvious? He was a playboy rock star. He no doubt had a new girl in his bed every night. I knew what to expect. If I hadn't left right then, he would have kicked me out the next morning. I was sure he would have done it in a smooth, charming way, but I knew for certain he wouldn't have asked for my phone number or offered to call me sometime.

  I hadn't expected anything more from him than a good time, and he'd given me one. I didn't regret it in the slightest.

  There was a small part of me, though, that regretted it would probably never happen again.

  I scolded myself to stop thinking that way. I'd wanted some fun, to live a little, and I had. There was no more to it than that.

  Besides, even if I'd wanted something long term, Nathan didn't seem like the kind of guy you could rely on. Who knew how he'd react when things got tough?

  But the way his thumb had caressed my skin, the intense way he'd stared at me…

  I shivered, feeling his phantom touch on my inner wrist.

  So maybe that regretful part of me wasn't so small. It didn't matter. I was going to put it all behind me and move on, grateful to Nathan for the amazing night he'd given me, and nothing further.

  But no sooner had I made that decision, than I saw a familiar head of sandy blond hair.

  Nathan was sitting in the hospital cafeteria, back to me. His broad shoulders were slumped, making him seem shorter than I knew he was. He practically towered over me when I was in my bare feet. He held a coffee between two tightly clenched hands, almost crushing the styrofoam cup.

  I was on my way out. I'd been at the hospital all day. I'd planned to have dinner with my parents.

  Nathan's shoulders heaved up, as if taking a deep breath, then he seemed to collapse in on himself, seated listlessly in the hard plastic hospital chair.

  Crap.

  I made my way over, careful to shuffle my feet so as to not startle him. He didn't look up when I stood in front of him on the other side of the table.

  "Mind if I take a seat?" I asked.

  Nathan looked up. His eyes were red-rimmed as they roved over me. There wasn't anything to ogle over. I was wearing the standard issue volunteer t-shirt with the hospital logo and plain denim jeans.

  "Volunteering again?" he guessed, his voice liquid and thick.

  "I'm done for the day," I told him.

  I kept my hand on the back of the chair, not yet sitting. He gestured for me to take a seat with a vague wave of his hand.

  "Visiting your friend?" I asked.

  He nodded once.

  "Are they okay?"

  He jerked his chin, as if to nod again, then hesitated. He shrugged instead.

  "I'm sorry," I said. "Have they been in the hospital very long?"

  "No," he said shortly.

  What was I doing here? He clearly didn't want to talk about it. I made a move to stand back up and leave him be.

  He grabbed my hand in a soft grip.

  "What do you do here, when you volunteer?" he asked.

  I sat back down gingerly.

  "I usually visit the kids in their rooms, bring games to play, or books to read to them." If he didn't want to talk about his own problems, I was more than happy to ramble on. "Sometimes the kids all gather together in the activity room and we do group stuff, like movie night. I just got assigned to work on a sort of Christmas and New Year's in July event. Because some of these kids won't make it to see the new year…"

  I trailed off, going quiet. Volunteering with sick children was rewarding, but there were always those moment of heartbreak that made me wonder whether it was worth it.

  "You should take part," I said suddenly.

  Nathan looked up from his coffee. "Take part?"

  "You could dress up as Santa Claus."

  He gave me a quizzical look before chuckling. "Only if you'll dress up as one of my elves." He winked. "I've always had a thing for pointy ears."

  "I bet you're a huge Lord of the Rings fan," I said.

  "I've read the books a dozen times," he said. "But as much as I would love to see you dressed up as a sexy elf, I think I'll pass on this one. Kids like me even less than cats."

  "At least kids don't scratch," I pointed out.

  "No, but those little rugrats have a mean bite."

  "You just need to learn how to act around them."

  "Are you talking about kids or cats?"

  "Both."

  "Maybe you should give me lessons." He held out his other hand, showing off another deep scratch.

  I winced. "What did you do to that poor cat?"

  "Nothing," he said, affronted. "I think Cleo and I just got off to a bad start."

  "If that's how cats treat you, maybe you should stay away from the kids."

  Nathan laughed. I joined in, glad I was able to lighten the mood.

  I wondered why he was sitting here, alone, in a hospital. Why wasn't he with his friends? Why wasn't he in rehearsals with h
is bandmates? He'd mentioned that one good friend, Gael, his wingman. Why weren't they out having fun together, drinking and partying like the rock stars they were?

  But Nathan had said Gael used to be his wingman. What had changed?

  Maybe he was sitting here in a hospital, letting me chatter at him, because he had no one else.

  I could understand. It had been hard to keep people in my life as well. The only ones I'd been able to rely on were my parents. They'd done a good job of taking care of me, but I knew it had put stress on their marriage.

  The last thing I needed was to get someone else wrapped up in all the turmoil that was my life.

  "I'm a little worried about Cleo," Nathan said. "I don't think she's been eating. Her food just sits there in the bowl."

  "Do you think something's wrong?" I asked, alarmed.

  "I don't know. She doesn't come out when I visit. She just hides. I think maybe I don't have the right food. Or maybe she hates me and refuses to eat anything I put out for her. "

  "If Cleo is sick, that might be why she's not eating," I said.

  Nathan looked visibly upset at the thought.

  "I'm pretty good with animals," I said without thinking. "I can probably coax her out."

  He looked at me, surprised. "You want to cat-whisper Cleo?"

  Dammit. I had just offered, hadn't I? What happened to my resolve to put this guy behind me?

  "I would hate for Cleo to be sick and not know," Nathan said.

  I thought carefully, then nodded. I couldn't stand to see the worried look on his face.

  "Yeah. Let's go help your cat."

  8

  "Thanks for this," Nathan said as I got down on all fours in the living room. I was glad I was wearing jeans and not a skirt. I might have given him a much too intimate view.

  Although maybe that wasn't such a concern, considering the last time he'd seen my ass I'd been stark naked.

  "It's no problem at all," I said. "I just hope there's nothing wrong with Cleo."

  Even as I said the words, I knew it was a problem. I had no idea what I thought I was doing. My evening with Nathan was supposed to have been a one-time thing. But now, here I was, at his place — or, his mom's place — crawling along the floor, trying to coax his cat out from underneath a china cabinet.

  "I've tried dangling toys in front of her and leaving trails of treats, but nothing I do works," Nathan said. "She won't come out as long as I'm here. Maybe it's better if I stay away. I can hire someone else to feed her and change her litter box."

  "I don't think you need to go that far."

  I managed to convince the cat to come out with soft, cooing words and a spoonful of tuna. She poked her head out, sniffing. I didn't move, just stayed there with the spoon extended.

  Cleo was an adorable thing, a multi-colored calico with huge, round eyes. Her pupils were so wide I could almost see my own reflection in the black orbs.

  I'd always liked cats. They weren't as loyal or unconditionally-loving like dogs. They needed a softer touch. You needed to earn their affection.

  Maybe I just liked the challenge.

  "So do you think she's sick?" Nathan asked, worried.

  "I don't think so. She looks healthy. She's probably just being cautious around you."

  Cleo took a few more steps forward. I brought the spoon a few inches closer. She froze, then took a small paw-step forward. She lapped at the tuna with her pink tongue. When she'd finished the treat, she rubbed her forehead against my hand. I scratched her under the chin. She carefully climbed into my lap, purring loudly, and curled up against my hip, tail twitching.

  "You really are a cat-whisperer," Nathan said.

  He reached out to pet her. Cleo's back arched and she hissed, swiping out with her claws. He yanked his hand back.

  "That cat is determined not to like me," he said, lips pursing in a sour expression.

  "Give it time," I said, stroking a calming hand down her back. "I'm sure she'll warm up to you eventually."

  "Hope so. It's already been weeks."

  "How long do you need to take care of your mom's place, anyway?" I asked. "Is she on vacation or traveling or something?"

  A pained look flashed across his face.

  "No, she's…"

  Trepidation filled my chest even as Cleo's soft purrs threatened to lull me into relaxing. I had a feeling whatever reason his mom had for being away wasn't good.

  "You don't have to talk about it," I said. "I won't push. But if you want, I'm here to listen."

  "My mom's the one I've been visiting in the hospital," he said in a rush.

  A pang of sympathy hit me. "I'm so sorry."

  I wanted to ask more. Was she sick, or was she injured? Had there been an accident? Or was she ill? Was it serious? How much longer was she going to have to stay?

  I mostly stuck to the children's ward, but I sometimes helped out with the adult patients, too. Maybe I'd met his mother before.

  But I stayed silent, letting Nathan decide how much he wanted to tell me.

  "She was sick a lot when I was growing up," he said. "So I'm kind of used to being in hospitals."

  I understood the feeling.

  "But we think she's going to be okay," he continued. "Like I said, they just need to do a few more tests."

  "It's good to keep a positive attitude," I said. "Sometimes that makes all the difference."

  We both went silent.

  "So do you have pets?" Nathan spoke up, ready to change the subject. "You're good with animals."

  "I had a hamster growing up. It died a long time ago."

  "I'm sorry," Nathan said. "I never understood buying those kind of pets for kids. Don't hamsters only live a couple years? Kind of sad."

  "Hm," I said, noncommittal. I didn't mention that was exactly why my parents had bought me one. "He had a good, if short, life. We bought him all kinds of toys. He loved rolling around in that hamster ball thing."

  "Who wouldn't?" Nathan said.

  "Me," I said, amused. "Rolling around in a giant bubble doesn't sound all that fun."

  "Are you kidding? It sounds amazing," Nathan said. "Haven't you ever heard of zorbing?"

  "Zorb-what?"

  His eyes lit up. "You jump inside this giant plastic bubble and go careening down a hill, just like a human hamster ball."

  "I can safely say that, no, I have never heard of zorbing."

  "You've got to try it."

  "No thanks," I said.

  "You don't go to rock shows, you don't get trashed at nightclubs, you won't throw yourself off a cliff in a giant hamster ball…" He shook his head in mock disappointment, a smile playing on his lips. "What a dull life you must lead."

  "I had a one night stand with a rock star, that's excitement enough."

  "What are you doing this weekend?" he asked.

  "Working."

  "After work?"

  "Sleeping."

  "You can sleep when you're dead. We're going zorbing."

  "Concerts, clubbing, one night stands, human hamster balls — you seem determined to pop my cherry at every possible opportunity, don't you?"

  "And how many cherries do you have left for me to pop?" he jumped in with a sly grin.

  "I'm not answering that," I said. "Have you ever actually gone zorbing before?"

  "Nope," he said. "It'll be my first time, too."

  "Great."

  "So I'll pick you up bright and early Saturday morning."

  It wasn't a question.

  "Why don't you just take your friend Gael?" I asked. "I'm sure that's much more his thing than mine."

  The lightheartedness in Nathan's blue eyes faded. I immediately regretted asking. I was beginning to see, despite his laid back attitude, Nathan had the odd sore spot or two I wanted to avoid poking, his mom and Gael being the most obvious.

  "He's probably busy," Nathan said, faking an easy tone I could see right through.

  "With recording and stuff?" I asked.

  "No. Well, yea
h," he amended. "We are pretty busy getting ready for the new album and doing one-off concerts and things. Gael's just—" The corners of Nathan's lips twitched downward in a frown. "He's always with his new girlfriend."

  And then I got it. "Are you feeling left out?" I asked quietly.

  Nathan shrugged carelessly. "Whatever. It's fine. Jessie's good for him. They're just still in that honeymoon phase. I get it. They need some time alone. I don't want to be a third wheel."

  My heart went out to the poor guy. I bet it sucked to have your friend ditch you for a girl.

  Maybe that was why he'd been sitting alone in the hospital. Maybe that was why he'd invited me out to zorb-whatever.

  Nathan was lonely.

  9

  I wasn't surprised when, true to his word, the next Saturday Nathan texted me with a brief on my way message.

  I panicked and hurriedly wrote back.

  Don't pull into the driveway! Park around the corner.

  All I got was confused silence, until the next message read, can Becca come out and play? which I assumed was his way of saying he'd arrived and was waiting for me.

  "I'm heading out," I told my mom as she stood at the kitchen counter, making a sandwich.

  "Where are you going?" she asked, her gaze flicking to mine curiously.

  Oh, just about to go careening down a hill in a giant bouncy ball, no big deal.

  "Tracey and I are going shopping for that New Year's in July party," I said.

  I should have felt bad lying, but at this point, what was one more?

  "You're not going to eat?" she asked.

  "I had breakfast earlier."

  "Becca…" her eyes turned concerned. "You know you need to eat something every few hours."

  "I'll grab a granola bar," I interrupted.

  "Grace, are you fussing over her again?" my dad said as he entered the kitchen, a frown on his face.

  "I'm not fussing, Michael," my mom snapped. "I'm looking out for her. She needs to eat."

  "Hounding her over every little thing is only going to stress her out—"

  "I said I'm fine," I interrupted them before they could really get going. "I'm going out now. I'll be back later."