by Gia Riley
I hurry back in the bedroom, grabbing his robe off the back of the door. “Calm down, I’m covering up.” It’s way too long and swallows me, but it shuts Lane up long enough that I can get to the door.
Once the boxes are in my hands, I grab a couple napkins off the kitchen table and run back to the bedroom. I make the mistake of peeking inside a box, my mouth watering from the sight of a cinnamon roll, slathered in icing.
“Get back on me, Noelle.”
I bring everything into bed, straddling his waist and setting a box on his chest. “My fantasy was off to a good start, but I can’t concentrate now. Can you give me a minute?”
“You’re really going to sit there and eat? Leaving me with a raging hard-on?”
I glance behind me, feeling a little guilty. “That’s definitely a situation. You want a bite?”
He takes the bite I offer, but I can tell he’s about out of patience. “Babe.”
“Right, just one more bite. Do you remember when we were little and you couldn’t go back in the pool for thirty minutes after you ate?”
“Yeah, dumbest rule ever.”
“Well, at least we don’t have to worry about that.”
He laughs and closes his eyes, still humoring me when all he wants is some sex. “Sometimes your logic makes total sense and other times I wonder about you.”
“And I’d worry about you if you didn’t.” We end up eating the rest of the pastry together, his chest a little sticky from the icing that dripped off. “Is that your phone or mine?”
“Mine. Who is it?”
I pick his phone up off the table and show him the screen. “Shit, I have to talk to him. It’s probably about last night. Untie me.”
I don’t want to untie him, but understand he has to take a call from his security team. “Let me get these knots out. It’ll just take a minute or two.” I tug and tug on the rope, but I was definitely a little excited about having Lane at my mercy; the thing is so damn tight, I can’t budge it.
I try for a solid two minutes, still no closer to setting Lane free. “My hand is falling asleep,” he tells me, just as I’m about to freak out.
“How do you feel about firemen? Maybe we can work that into the fantasy.”
“I’m fucking stuck, aren’t I?”
“Well, a little bit. It’s nothing I can’t fix though.” Just as the words leave my mouth, I grab my phone and call the one person who always manages to help me out of the messes I create.
“You’re not calling the damn fire department, Noelle.”
“No, I’m calling Lark. She’ll help me.”
“The hell she will!”
“Lane, you can’t stay like this. What will the media say when they find out you’ve left Midnight Fate because your girlfriend tied you to the bed for life? They’ll hate me forever.”
“They’d get over it. At least cover me up before she gets here.”
I toss the sheet over his lower half, hurrying through the living room to let Lark inside. Only when I open it, so happy to see her, I almost cry because she’s not alone. Easton’s standing with his arm wrapped around her shoulder, smiling. “Lark said there was an issue.”
“Lane’s going to kill me. I never thought I’d say this, but Easton, you can’t come in here.”
Lark pushes me aside, striding into the bedroom with a purpose. “Wait here,” she says over her shoulder. “I’ll survey the damage.”
I chase after Lark, praying Lane’s still covered up. She takes one look at him and laughs so hard she snorts. “Is this some kind of kinky food play?”
I brush the crumbs off his chest and swipe the sugary icing off his skin. “No, we were just having a casual meal in bed. There’s nothing to see here.”
“Lark,” Lane seethes. “Either help Noelle untie me or go back home.”
“All right, all right. Don’t get your undies in a bunch.” Then she laughs again because he’s clearly not wearing any.
Five minutes later, her fingertips are red and we’ve only gotten through one knot on his left arm. “God, Lane, I’m so sorry. This was such a bad idea.”
Just when I think it couldn’t possibly get any worse, Easton’s standing in the doorway with his arms braced on either side of him. “I thought you said the ropes were for exercise?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Stop being cute and get this shit off me. And if you even glance at my dick, I’ll punch you in the face once I’m free.”
Easton’s about to start working on the first set of knots when he stops. “Is that any way to talk to the guy you’re relying on to get you out of this mess? I’ll wait for a proper response. Maybe even a little begging.”
And Easton does wait. He sits his ass on the floor like he’s on the magic carpet at the library for story time. It only pisses Lane off more. At this rate, the fire department might end up being the only solution.
I stand between the bed and Easton, ready to play the role of the mediator. “Easton, Lane apologizes for being rude. Lane, Easton won’t make fun of you in your time of distress. Now, can we please get him free so I can go eat my weight in donuts?”
Easton stands back up, still all business, yet working on the knots again. As soon as one arm is free, Lane lowers it, rubbing his chaffed skin on the sheets. “These ropes are never coming out of the closet again.”
He tries to push Easton away and do the other side himself, but Easton stops him with one look. “Why do you smell like Joanie’s?”
Lark slides down the wall until her butt hits the floor. “I’ve just spent five months on the road with the band, and this is the weirdest day I’ve had in a really long time.”
I smile at her, handing her a muffin. “Face it, buttercup, life would be dull without me.”
“It’d be something,” Lane mutters under his breath, just as Easton undoes the last knot.
He gets out of bed with the sheets around him, grabbing his pants off the back of the bathroom door. The door slams a second later and Easton just laughs. “I think you shit all over his pride, Noelle.”
“I’m sure he’ll express his gratitude once his boner’s gone.”
Easton digs a donut out of the box, laughing as he takes a bite. “I forgot how much I enjoyed you. You’re good for him.”
Considering Lane’s still hiding out in the bathroom, he might have a difference of opinion right about now. “Something tells me I’m going to have to screw him seven ways to Sunday before he forgives me for this one.”
Lark shoves her last bite in her mouth, her voice muffled when she says, “Good thing you brought those three boxes.”
“Right, it’s like I knew I’d fuck up.”
Easton helps Lark off the floor and she hops on his back. “Tell Lane to be in the lobby by nine tonight. We have some tits to enjoy.”
“For what?”
“Dom’s birthday,” Lark reminds me. “Don’t worry, it’s just Lola’s. I have plans for us. There’s a cool place next door we can get food.”
“You’re really okay with Easton going to a strip club?”
“Yes, because he’ll come home all horned up. And I have more pregnancy hormones than I know what to do with.”
“I think I like pregnant Lark.”
“Dude, me, too,” Easton says with a very satisfied smile.
After they’re gone, I carry the boxes into the kitchen and make some coffee. By the time it brews, I expect to find Lane waiting for me on the couch, but I end up finding him wearing a pair of sweats and leaning over the side of the bed with his head in his hands. Right away, I feel like complete and total shit.
Cautiously, I sit next to him. He only raises his head when he feels the bed dip. “Lane, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean for you to get stuck.”
“That was humiliating, Noelle.”
“It wasn’t ideal, but you have to admit it was a little funny.”
He stands up and grabs a shirt from his dresser drawer. “Easton will never let me live that down.”
&n
bsp; Before he puts it on, I wrap my arms around him from behind, his skin still warm from the shower. “I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. We only have two weeks, and I don’t want to spend a single second of it with you mad at me.”
He unclasps my hands from his stomach and turns around. “Why does it have to be two weeks?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m done touring for a while, and we don’t start recording the new album for a couple weeks. The last thing I want is for you to go back home when I’m finally staying in one place long enough to live a semi-normal life.”
“We talked about this. I have a salon to run. I can’t up and leave whenever I want.”
“But two weeks is practically nothing. We were apart for almost six months, Noelle.”
“We’ve had this conversation, Lane. Midnight Fate is your identity. It’s where you found validation when you needed it. New Image Salon is mine—it’s where I found my purpose when everyone else I knew was away at college. I found a way to buy it, and giving that up would be like losing a piece of myself.”
Frustrated, he tips his head back and stares at the ceiling. “Listen to what you’re saying. You’re putting four walls and a roof above what we have. I have to mean more you to than that.”
“You do, but say I do sell it. Then what? I become your professional groupie? The business is all I have that’s mine. Those four walls and that roof are my little slice of Heaven.”
“Did you ever think maybe I want to be your Heaven? That you’re part of my identity now? I want you to depend on me. I’ll take care of you, Noelle, because what good is all that money in the bank if you’re not here to share it with?”
I wipe away the tear that escapes my eye, wondering how this day got so serious so fast. We’ve been having a lot of fun, and maybe the clueless part of me thought it was going to stay that way. When he’s in town, I visit. When he’s on the road, I’m home working long days in the salon, missing him less than if I was sitting at home waiting for him to call and check in.
Sure, we’ve been getting more serious as each show was checked off the tour schedule, but I didn’t think Lane was ready to make me his forever. We shared sentiments, but when I tell him, “I didn’t know you were all in,” I mean it.
He holds me close, but it still feels like we’re miles away. “You make me forget about all the noise. It fades in the background.”
“Is that your way of saying I make you happy?”
“Yeah, baby. It’s my way of saying I need you and that I don’t want you to leave. I want you to stay and tackle tomorrow with me—and every day after that.”
He says all the right things. All the things I wished I had heard from people in the past but never did. My heart’s in my throat and I can honestly say I’ve never felt more love for him than in his moment. Even all the nights when we were apart and all we had was the sound of each other’s voice to get us through the hours and days. “I love you so much, Lane.”
“I feel like there’s more coming.”
“There’s so much I’ll have to figure out, but if you want me, I’m yours.”
He picks me up and carries me into the living room, a huge smile plastered across his face. Now that he’s figured out what he wants and we’re on the same page, he’s more relaxed than I’ve ever seen him. “I’m staying home tonight so I can kiss every inch of you.”
He tosses me on the sofa, my body caught by the soft pillows and cushions. “It’s Dom’s birthday, you have to go.”
“That’s the thing,” he whispers as he crawls on top of me. “I can do whatever I want now that we’re home.”
“Lane.”
“And do you know what I want, Noelle?”
“What do you want?”
I wait for him to say it, hanging on each breath he takes until he kisses me softly and whispers, “All of you.”
“Do you know what I want?” I drag the tip of my nail down the center of his pecs, all the way to his cock, where I grab a handful and pump him up and down a couple times through the fabric of his pants.
“Shit, Noelle.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Tell me what you want, baby.”
“I want you to remember how much you want me when you’re staring at all those chicks tonight. Because if you so much as touch one of them, you’ll never, ever put this back in me again.”
He closes his eyes just as I squeeze his tip. “Damn, you’re sexy when you get territorial.”
“I’m sexy regardless, but you’re the drummer for Midnight Fate. They’ll see you with dollar signs in their eyes.”
He knows I’m being serious, but he stops me with a finger to my lips before I say another word. “You have nothing to worry about.”
“You’re my fantasy, Lane. I’m not sharing.”
“That might be what I love about you most. The way you’ve never had dollar signs in your eyes. The way you see me as an ordinary guy who loves you.”
“There’s nothing ordinary about you. You’re a goddamn rock star.”
“To Dom and strippers,” Easton says with a raised glass, earning a smack in the chest from his wife.
There’s enough alcohol in the back of the limo to get a small army drunk, and with the way Easton and Dom are downing it, there’s a good chance they’re already halfway there. I’m still nursing the first glass of champagne they poured because, if I’m going back to Lola’s, I can’t do it if I’m fucked up.
Noelle’s just as quiet, sitting in the corner with her head leaning against the leather seat. Her eyes are focused on the streetlights, her mind a million miles away. To the others, it may look like she’s tired or buzzed, but to me, she’s thinking about staying and what that means for her.
For the first time since she said we’d figure it all out, I realize how lost she really is. The last thing I wanted was to make it harder for her. Leaning back in the seat, I turn my body to face hers. She smiles when I take her small hand in mine, though it doesn’t reach her eyes the way it usually does. “What’s wrong?” I ask her, praying she tells me the truth.
“I’m scared,” she whispers with watery eyes.
I slide closer to her, pulling her into my lap so she’s only looking at me. “Do you want to go home?”
With a frustrated sigh, she says, “I don’t even know where that is anymore. You feel like home to me, Lane, but this trip keeps opening my eyes to things I never even considered.”
“I can make it better.”
“I’m not sure you can fix how I feel. I can’t even pinpoint one thing that’s wrong with me. I just know that I’m scared to let go of everything I have, but I’m even more afraid that I’ll lose you if I don’t. And after last night, when I thought I was losing my own life, I want to grab on to you even tighter and never let you go.”
Holding her close, the only sound I hear is the thumping of her heart against my chest. I rest my chin on top of her head, wanting her to be so consumed by me that the war raging inside her disappears. “We can face reality another day.”
“Nothing will change unless I do.”
It breaks me seeing her so worked up about something that shouldn’t be this hard. It should be easy to love each other without either of us having to give up what else we love. And maybe that’s the problem. Maybe I’m expecting my life to stay exactly how it is because of the band’s success. But that’s not fair to her—she’s successful in her own right, doing what she loves, too. “I wish I knew what to say to make you happy.”
“I am happy, Lane. I love you.”
The limo pulls into the parking lot of Lola’s and she starts climbing off my lap. I’m not ready to let her go, so I hold onto her waist a little tighter, needing us to be okay before we leave the car. “What do you need me to do, Noelle?”
She bites her lip and stares down at me. “I want you to remember what you have before you go in there.”
“Baby, I don’t even want to be here. Nothing on t
hat stage will come close to what I have in my arms right now. You’re my girl, Noelle.”
“You’re my guy,” she whispers. And then like the moment never happened, she gives me a smile so bright, I’d fall on my ass if I weren’t sitting down. “Let’s go have some fun.”
I watch as Noelle walks arm in arm with Lark and Gina, the three of them laughing as they head toward the new theater next to Lola’s. Reed lingers behind them, our only layer of protection while we’re apart.
Easton clasps my shoulder and smiles. “She’ll be fine, man. Let her spread her wings a little.”
“It’s not her wings I’m worried about,” I tell him. “It’s her heart.”
“Fair enough,” he says as he leads us to the entrance. “Maybe some tits will cheer you up.”
“You’re way too into this. This kid has you all worked up.”
“I’m so fucked, Lane. I’ve never even changed a diaper. And what if it’s a damn girl? She’ll look like her mother, and then I’ll be even more fucked.”
“Diapers aren’t hard. You’ll figure it out.”
“How do you know so much? Lark’s looking into baby classes. Can you even imagine me playing with dolls?”
“It might do you some good.” I almost wish they’d offer Easton a reality show so the first few months were documented for the world to see. It’s not that he’s incapable of parenting; it’s that he’s clueless about where to start.
“How do you know so much?”
“I read,” I tell him as we flash our IDs at the door to Lola’s.
“What do you read? Ladies Home Journal? I know for a fact that shit’s not in Cosmo.”
“One, how do you know about Ladies Home Journal? Two, why wouldn’t it be in Cosmo?”
“Because Lark gets that one. I steal it when I’m in the shitter.”
“Then by all means, please tell us why skipping breakfast makes us gain weight, or maybe how we can control those cramps.”
He shoves me against the wall, shaking his head as he laughs. “You’re such an ass. There’s way more in the magazine than that shit.”
“You’re right, I forgot the quizzes. Tell me which Starbucks drink I’d be.”
