Impulsive
Page 8
Elijah’s grin suggested he was pleased and accustomed to getting his way. “Awesome.” His fingers gripped her elbow and urged her to her feet. A hand on the small of her back nudged her toward the door. “I have a great place in mind.”
Chapter 15
The car eased into the entrance of the parking garage of the elite Elysian Hotel. A valet met them and opened the door for Elijah. He unfolded his long limbs onto the pavement before hurrying around to open her door.
“You mind telling me where we are?” she asked. “I thought we were going to a restaurant.”
“This will be better,” he replied. Once again his hand rested on the small of her back and guided her to a private elevator near the valet station. “This is my place.”
“You live in a hotel? I thought you’d have a house. Something ostentatious and tacky like Graceland.”
His laugh echoed through the parking garage. He had the best laugh, full-bodied and infectious. “I’ve been on tour for the last two years. This is the first time I’ve had more than three days off in a row. I’ve got a couple of houses for investments, you know, but I don’t stay there. Whenever I find someplace I like, I rent out a hotel room.” Despite his smile, wistfulness tinged his words. She had a vision of him floating around the world, rootless and unfocused, with his suitcases and an entourage. This unsolicited confession struck a cord of pity within her. Here he was, one of the most famous men in the world, and he had nowhere to call home.
“You really should get a house,” she said. “A place where you can get away from everything.” She thought of her mother’s house and the lifetime of memories, both good and bad, it held. Even with the turmoil of the divorce and her mother’s overbearing nature, it was good to know she could always go there when she needed to escape her life.
Elijah cocked his head to one side and narrowed his eyes, looking at her like a puzzle to be solved. He pushed the elevator button and turned to face her.
“My shrink said the same thing.” The intense stare continued to drill into her. He used a forefinger to tuck a stray tendril of hair behind her ear. The light touch sent a shiver up her back.
“Just stating the obvious,” she replied, and turned to face the elevator.
“In my line of business, nothing is obvious,” he said. “It’s all smoke and mirrors and laser lights.”
The light above the door counted down the floors as the elevator descended to the parking garage. A ding announced its arrival. Elijah placed a hand on the small of her back and nudged her forward. The elevator doors closed behind her. Within seconds, the car launched upward, leaving her stomach behind. The air in the confined space thickened. Their arms brushed together. He turned and leaned against the wall, hands behind his back, and stared at her. She stared back. After a minute, he chuckled and smiled.
“Man, you just don’t give an inch, do you?” he asked.
“How did you know where I work?”
“Luke.” The one word answer caused her stomach to knot.
“Do you guys talk a lot?” Something about the look in his eyes made her uneasy.
“Sometimes. And sometimes not at all.”
“He said I needed to be careful around you. Why is that?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, his eyes went to her mouth and stayed there too long before drifting lazily over her body. The tips of her breasts tightened. She resisted the urge to cross her arms over her chest. When his gaze finally returned to her eyes, it burned with blatant desire. Everything about this guy screamed sex.
“I tend to hurt the people who care about me,” he said finally. “It’s sad, I know, but it’s the truth. I hate that about myself, and yet, I just can’t seem to stop.”
The secrets behind his eyes piqued her curiosity. The two men differed in every way. What kind of bond kept them as friends after so many years? Luke obviously felt some kind of connection to Elijah, or he wouldn’t put up with his bullshit.
“What do you guys talk about? You don’t seem to have much in common.”
“Oh, the usual. Sports. His girlfriends. Sex. You.”
The answer sent her heart into her throat. Luke talked about her to this guy, the world’s biggest celebrity. A part of her felt flattered, while a smaller part felt betrayed and hurt. She was Luke’s confidante. Why couldn’t he talk to her?
“What did he say about me?” She shouldn’t ask that kind of question unless she was prepared to hear the answer, but she wanted to know more about Luke and what he thought of her.
His eyes narrowed while he gathered his answer. “Don’t worry. He’s been very tight-lipped. I practically had to drag it out of him. It’s what he doesn’t say that intrigues me.” The weight of his stare pinned her to the elevator wall on the opposing side. “In fact, he’s been so quiet about you that I had to look you up, find out for myself.” A tight chuckle rumbled through his chest and his eyes did another leisurely perusal of her body. “And after meeting you, I think you and I might have a few things in common.”
“I’m not going to sleep with you, Elijah.” Was this guy for real? His sense of entitlement exceeded everything she’d read about him.
He laughed, dimples popping in his cheeks. The delight in his laugh made her feel like his plaything, a temporary amusement for a bored and spoiled rock star. She glanced at the number display over the door and huffed a sigh of exasperation. This had to be the slowest elevator ever.
“Stating the obvious again?” he asked with an uplifted eyebrow. At her groan of consternation, his expression softened. “Relax. This is strictly business. I promised Luke I would behave for you.” The lustful light in his eyes shifted to curiosity and amusement. “I brought you here because it’s not easy for me to be in public. Hell, I can’t even go out for smokes anymore.”
The undercurrent of disgust behind his statement made her ears perk. By all accounts, he loved the media frenzy his presence demanded. According to the tabloids, he reveled in it and had been accused more than once of orchestrating drama for the sake of publicity. His tone suggested a completely different opinion.
“So, why did you come to the studio then? You could’ve called. Gary makes house calls for his clients.”
“But I’m not his client,” Elijah said with quiet patience. “I’m yours.”
Chapter 16
Understated elegance in muted tones of gold and cream decorated the penthouse suite. Tasha drew in a breath and tried not to show any emotion, but the space was impressive. The living room was larger than her entire apartment, furnished with elaborate antiques, warm but impersonal. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered an unparalleled view of the city. Musical instruments cluttered an otherwise pristine space: a drum kit, white grand piano, and various guitars on stands.
Elijah removed his baseball cap inside the entrance door and tossed it onto a table in the foyer. “Make yourself at home,” he said as he toed off his shoes then pulled his shirt over his head. A knock at the door drew him back to the foyer. Room service entered with a cart full of food. “I wasn’t sure what you like, so I just got a bunch of everything,” he said to her.
Her cellphone buzzed in her pocket and she saw with dread it was her mother. Every time they spoke, it renewed her disillusionment with marriage and relationships. Her father’s callous disregard for her mother festered like an infected wound. Felicia’s inability to move on with her life left Tasha more and more frustrated. She wanted to help her, but without financial resources there was little she could do besides listen.
“I need to take this call,” Tasha said. “Do you mind?”
“Course not,” Elijah said, studying her with eyes that saw too much. “Do your thing. I’m going to change clothes.”
By the time he’d left the room, the call had gone to voicemail. Tasha called back, and her mother answered before the end of the first ring with a loud sob. An unintelligible diatribe followed. The sound squeezed her heart in a way she hadn’t known possible. She drew in a steadying breath.
“That bastard,” her mother sobbed. “I’m getting nothing. Nothing. Do you understand me?”
“What are you talking about?” On the street below, people strode the sidewalks, going about their lives oblivious to the pain in her heart. She looked down, feeling a curious sense of detachment from the world outside. Was this how Elijah felt? Separated from everyone? Trapped in an opulent glass bubble?
“We met with the judge today. He got almost everything. We have to sell the house and split the proceeds.” Felicia ended the statement with a series of sniffs and snorts.
Tasha leaned her head against the window. “That’s not so bad, Mom. At least you’ll have the money. You can get a nice little apartment here in the city. Start over. It will be great.” Despite her upbeat tone, she wasn’t convinced either. The thought of losing her family home left her empty inside. It was the anchor for her family. The one constant in a tumultuous past.
“You don’t understand, Tasha. Your father took out a second mortgage on the house right before he left. There isn’t any equity.”
The enormity of this statement settled over Tasha like a noose around her neck. How could her father do this? Not only had he split the family apart, he’d shoved it into a coffin and nailed it shut. Her mother would never be able to survive on her own. She’d been a housewife her entire life while her father had kept total control over the finances. Now she’d have to get a job and struggle to make ends meet at a time when she should be looking forward to retirement.
“That can’t be right. What about Dad’s 401k? What does your attorney say? Can’t he help you?” She fired the questions in rapid succession, her mind racing through possible solutions to the problem.
“Your father cashed out his 401k last year,” Felicia replied, her tone flat and dead. “He’s been planning this for a long time, and he took all the steps to make sure I got nothing. It’s done, Tasha. The house is going up for sale tomorrow.”
“I’m sorry, Mom. Look, we’ll figure out something. You can come live with me.” The futility of the situation hit her like a punch in the gut. She barely made ends meet by working two jobs. Living with her mother would put a serious cramp in her financial situation, not to mention her independent lifestyle, but it was what you did for family. She’d find a way to make it work.
“Oh, Tasha. You’re so sweet. I knew you’d find an answer for me,” Felicia replied. The familiar flick of her cigarette lighter hissed in the background. “Of all my girls, you’re the only one with any sense. What would I do without you?”
The phone call ended, but Tasha’s anguish lingered. She rubbed the space between her brows and closed her eyes while her mind sorted through options. The walls of her life seemed to contract around her, forcing her down a path she didn’t want to follow and into choices she knew would only lead to further unhappiness down the road.
“Problems?” Elijah asked. He’d changed into a pair of gray cargo shorts but remained shirtless. He stood next to her, gaze trained intently on her face, while she focused on the city outside the window. How much of the conversation had he heard?
“Family issues,” she said with a shrug. “My parents are getting a divorce, and my mom isn’t doing so well.”
“Yeah, divorce sucks,” he said. “I should know. I’ve been through two of them.” He leaned against the window and crossed his arms over his chest. “Did I really hear you invite your mother to live with you?”
“They have to sell the house. She doesn’t have anywhere else to go.” Saying it out loud only made her chest ache more. Tears stung her eyes. She swiped them away, angry at her loss of control over her emotions in front of a stranger.
“Come here,” he commanded.
Before she knew what he was doing, he swept her into his embrace. He let her cry into his bare chest and stroked her hair. She’d been holding everything inside for too long, and without Luke to steady her, she felt adrift. Thinking of him only made her ache more. She hadn’t realized how much she missed him until that moment.
“Want to tell me about it?” he asked, lips brushing over her hair. “I’m an asshole, but I’m a pretty good listener.”
She told him everything about the divorce, the story tumbling out in incoherent bits and pieces. He held her and listened without comment until she was through. It felt good to confess the hurt and anger over her father’s behavior, the anguish over her mother’s heartbreak, and her frustration at being unable to resolve the situation. When she was done, she pushed away from him. Crying never solved anything, and the sooner she stopped, the sooner she could work on a solution to her problems.
“Sorry.” She swiped at the tears on his chest. “I’m not usually a crier.”
“It’s alright,” he said. “I’m usually the one making people cry. It’s nice to be on the other side of things for a change.”
Over pasta and salad, Tasha brought out her iPad and clicked through her best tattoo designs. Something had shifted between them following her breakdown. He’d lost a little of his rock star polish and seemed more interested in her company than impressing her with his lifestyle. Elijah studied each design, his full lower lip drawn between perfect white teeth. Her brow furrowed, taking his silence as disapproval. When she came to the final picture, he sat back and rubbed his nose.
“I like this one,” he said, pointing to the peacock. “I want something like this, but not so pretty. Dirty it up a little, you know?”
Before she could speak, a crowd of people tumbled into the suite. The other band members of Seven Drift, a dozen scruffy roadies, a few girls, and a couple of guys in suits who looked like bodyguards milled around the foyer. Noise and chaos replaced the tranquil quiet.
“Eli. Dude. Come on.” Tristan gamboled over to them, the picture of a disheveled rock star in ripped jeans and a red leather vest. He gave Tasha a cursory glance and nod before focusing his attention on Elijah. “Seth has some great ideas for the next album. We need to get cracking.”
“Uh, excuse me. Busy here.” Elijah’s gaze locked onto Tasha’s face.
“Fuck, man.” Tristan groaned, dug into his pocket, and pulled out a fistful of hundred-dollar bills. He thrust them at Tasha. “Here, love. Run along.”
Tasha stared at the money. The bills fluttered untouched to the plush carpet. Embarrassment burned her cheeks. The insult pricked her ego. She glared at Tristan and tried to formulate a fitting retort. The corners of Elijah’s mouth tightened. Before she could reply, Elijah grabbed the money and shoved it into Tristan’s chest.
“What’s wrong with you, man? She’s not a whore, so don’t treat her like one.” The threat in his voice got Tristan’s attention. “Apologize, ass wipe.”
“Sorry,” Tristan said. A sheepish smile softened his sharp features. “My bad. I just assumed. Dude hasn’t had a legit chick in years. Goes with the territory, you know?” Humor brightened his face. “Whores and rock stars. Make a great song title, don’t you think?”
Tasha wasn’t sure what to say. It didn’t matter because Tristan’s attention snagged on something across the room and he gamboled off in the other direction, singing about whores and rock stars. Music blared from a sound system down the hall. A dozen more people came into the room. She grabbed her iPad and held it to her chest, completely overwhelmed by the influx of strangers.
“Elijah. Tristan. Let’s go, guys,” Seth said as he strummed a guitar. “We need to get this shit down while it’s fresh.”
“Yeah, yeah. Hold your horses.” Elijah swept a hand through his hair and gave her a long look. “I hate to cut this short. I was looking forward to getting to know you better.” One corner of his mouth curled up in a suggestive smirk. “Another time, I guess.”
“Okay, well, I’ll get out of here.” She shoved the iPad into her bag and drew the strap over her shoulder.
“I’ll wa
lk you to the elevator. Tony can drive you back.” He gestured toward an enormous guy in a blue suit with a crew cut and black sunglasses.
“It’s okay. I can catch a cab.” The idea of escape sounded appealing. She gripped her bag tighter and searched for the door through the sea of unfamiliar faces. The scent of marijuana drifted around the room.
“Tony, call down and get a cab for the lady, will you?” Elijah issued the order without looking away from Tasha. “I’ll walk you to the elevator.”
Elijah nudged her down the hall. He pressed the button to call the elevator car. She glanced up at him. A flash of ultra-blue eyes preceded the touch of his lips on hers. Soft at first, the kiss deepened in the space of one heartbeat. His hand went to her hip, gripping and holding her in place. He explored the inside of her mouth with sensual leisure. A deep growl from his throat indicated his approval.
In the distance, the quiet ding of the elevator sounded. Elijah curled a hand around the nape of her neck to hold her in place. Her nipples tightened at the brush of his hard chest against hers and the untamed feel of his tongue, teeth, and lips. His kiss tasted of decadence and sin. She rose to her toes, meeting him halfway, before she realized it. A thrill of trepidation heightened the sensation. He was wild and dark and needy, drawing her against him. Part of her wanted to dive deeper into the abyss. Just as she teetered on the brink, the elevator doors hissed open.
He ended their kiss abruptly, leaving her open-mouthed and bewildered, but the grip of his hand tightened on her hip. She put her hands on his chest to get some distance between them. One corner of his mouth curled around like a comma. His eyes flitted over her shoulder and sparkled with mischief.
“Hello, Luke,” Elijah said.
Chapter 17