The Last Rock King

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The Last Rock King Page 5

by Seven Steps


  He sat on the bed and opened his trail mix, throwing a handful into his mouth.

  “Wow, your room isn’t nearly as nice as mine. They really give you guys the short end of the stick.”

  “Well, I am not the talent, I’m just the lowly nurse.”

  Feeling slightly eased, she sat on the second bed.

  “Still, though. It must suck not having a patio. Well, I guess for a farm girl like yourself, you wouldn’t mind.”

  She shook her head at him and took a bite of her chocolate bar.

  “We should order chocolate shakes. They’re great for late nights. There’s a cool shop in London that makes these amazing shakes. We should go after my show.”

  “That would be nice. I’ve never been to London before. Just Los Angeles and Connecticut, and the cities that I’ve visited with you.”

  “A girl with big dreams like yours should see the world before she conquers it,” he said, his blue eyes resting comfortably on hers.

  “My dreams aren’t all that big.”

  “Sure they are. There aren’t many girls in my circle with dreams like yours. The fact is, they seem to have more, shall we say, domestic aspirations, like child support payments.”

  She laughed. “Maybe you should surround yourself with different women.”

  “I’m working on it.”

  He looked pointedly at her. She blushed, took another bite of her chocolate bar.

  “You got some big doctor at home, waiting for you, Cas?” His voice was soft, coaxing, hopeful.

  She bit her lip, hoping he couldn’t see how on edge he made her.

  “No. I’m too focused on school for boys.”

  “You’re right. You shouldn’t be focusing on boys at all.”

  His eyes went dark, as if he just thought of something that disturbed him.

  “How much longer?” he asked.

  “For what?”

  “Until you finish school.”

  “A year.”

  “A year? As in next June, a year?”

  She nodded.

  “And then you’ll officially be Dr. Cas?”

  “Well, I'll have to do a year of residency, but, yeah.”

  “And you’ll own a farm?”

  She grinned. “Probably not. It would be nice though.”

  “Well, when you graduate, I’d love to be there. It’s not often that people achieve their dreams. I would love to see you achieve yours.”

  The sad look settled deeper into his face.

  She wondered what she’d said wrong.

  He stood, walked to the door. The disappointment that she’d felt earlier returned. “I guess I’ll get to bed. Long flight tomorrow.”

  She followed him to the door.

  “Good night, Noah.”

  He placed his hand on the knob, paused.

  “Good night, Cas.”

  Their eyes met, and she drowned again in the blue depths. Her name on his lips, was like a song.

  “Cas.”

  His gaze dropped to her mouth.

  “I shouldn’t be doing this,” he whispered.

  Her breath caught, her eyes went wide.

  His lips fell onto hers. Her mind turned to jelly, her knees turned to rubber.

  And then, he was gone, and she was left wondering if it had ever happened at all.

  Chapter 12

  The New Jersey car garage baked in the August sun. It smelled of hot asphalt and sweat as Cassie watched her luggage being loaded into the back of a black limo.

  She found herself standing next to Dondo, wondering what had changed. Noah hadn’t even looked at her this morning.

  Maybe it was something I said? she thought. Maybe he didn’t like the kiss? Maybe there was no kiss and I’m just going crazy?

  Noah had climbed into the first limo long ago, leaving her to take the rear with her father and Dondo.

  Disappointment had begun to morph into something else. Anger. She tried to tap it down, but it wouldn’t budge. It sat like a weight in her belly.

  “Everything okay, doc?” Dondo asked.

  She restrained herself from screaming no at him. Dondo was not the problem here, it was Noah. Noah who was downstairs before everyone else. Noah who had climbed in the limo first before she could see him. Noah who didn’t even bother to text her good morning.

  She bit back a growl.

  “I’m fine.” She eyed the five black suitcases that stood next to him. “Enough luggage?” she asked.

  Dondo’s smile turned tight. “Yeah. My mom always says that I pack like a girl. I don’t know, I have to have everything in a certain order, you know.”

  “I understand that. The medical field is all about order. How’s the wrist?”

  Dondo raised his wrist to her, showing off a thin black brace.

  They stood in awkward silence.

  “So, are you going to Kelly’s funeral?”

  He stiffened. “Whose?”

  “Kelly, the girl you met the other night. The one who was murdered.”

  The fact that he could sleep with a woman and not even remember her name, or the fact that she had been strangled to death, infuriated her.

  “Oh, Kelly. Well, no, I don’t think so. We’ll be overseas so…”

  Walter’s dark face peeked out the limo door. “You guys coming?”

  Dondo let out a grateful breath. “Sure thing, Walt.”

  He quickly climbed into the limo, abruptly ending the conversation.

  She climbed in behind him, keeping her eyes glued to the window. She didn’t understand what his deal was. He seemed so jittery when Kelly’s name was mentioned. Did he know something about her death? He said he didn’t, but, for some reason, Cassie didn’t believe him.

  “I hate flying,” Walter remarked.

  “You’ve flown all around the world, Walter. You’ll be fine.”

  “I know, I know. Just the taking off and the landing. It gets me all worked up.”

  “You’ll be fine.” She placed a gentle hand on his knee. “Besides, you’ll be on a private jet in clear weather. You can have a drink and go to sleep.”

  “I’ll have more than a drink.” He pulled an orange bottle out of his front shirt pocket and shook it. “One pill will knock me out for four hours. I take two. By the time we get to the UK, I’ll be very well rested.”

  She smiled at him and wondered what she would do for nine hours on a plane, practically alone. With a final pat on her father’s knee, she wrapped her arms around herself. The limo was chilly. She wished she’d listened to her mother and brought a jacket.

  “Driver, do you have the local news radio by any chance?” Walter asked.

  “Yes, sir,” the driver replied, his Spanish accent heavy.

  The radio clicked on. A man reported on Kelly’s murder the night before.

  Walter’s foot bounced, shaking the seat. She placed a hand on her father’s leg again and gave him a gentle smile. Her eyes then shifted to Dondo. She searched for a response, anything that might say he was guilty. He put his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes.

  The news shifted to weather and traffic and Cassie’s thoughts again turned to Noah.

  What was going through his mind? Why did he kiss her like that and then ignore her? She thought to text him, then thought better of it.

  No, texting would seem desperate, she thought. I’ll do what any sane person would do. I’ll ignore him right back.

  She had built an elaborate plan in her mind of all of the ways she would not speak to him by the time they arrived at the airport and boarded their private plane.

  The mid-size aircraft was separated into three compartments. In the first was a beige couch, decorated with black pillows, that stretched along one wall. On the opposite wall, two beige recliners were separated by a walnut colored table. Someone had set the table with two coffee cups, saucers, and burgundy napkins. Two black rimmed televisions were built into the wall above the table. On either side of the televisions were speakers. T
he floor was covered in brown carpet accented with black dots.

  The next compartment was separated by an egg shell colored curtain, currently pulled open. Beyond the curtain, Cassie could see two recliners facing her, with two more facing the front of the plane. Above the two recliners that faced her were televisions.

  The final compartment was the cockpit.

  A stewardess in a blue knee-length skirt, white button-up shirt, and matching blue vest greeted them. Her name tag said Shondra.

  “This is amazing,” Cassie gasped. The plane smelled like new carpet and fresh baked chocolate chip cookies.

  Another stewardess, wearing the same outfit, stood between the cockpit and the second compartment, a silver tray of steaming cookies in her hand.

  “Noah really knows how to travel,” Walter said.

  They climbed in and took their seats. Noah and Dondo disappeared into the second compartment, each taking a recliner. Walter and Cassie sat around the table in the first compartment.

  Noah’s two bodyguards, choreographer, makeup artist, and stylist settled into the couches. They would meet up with the road crew, backup dancers, and band in London.

  “This is really cool,” Cassie said, running her fingers along the walnut brown molding. “I’ve never been in a private plane before.”

  Everyone associated with Noah’s world tour had spent the last two months crisscrossing the country on three tour busses. The plane seemed infinitely more comfortable.

  “You get used to it,” Walter said. “At least that’s what I’ve been told.”

  He pulled out two of his pills, placed them on his tongue, and swallowed. By the time the plane took off, he was fast asleep.

  ***

  Cassie had been staring out of the rounded window next to the television when she felt a tap on her elbow. She turned around to see Noah, smiling as he crouched next to her.

  Her heart flipped first in excitement, then in anger. She huffed and looked back out of the window.

  “What?” he asked.

  “What nothing.”

  She heard him let out a breath.

  “Can we talk?”

  “Why start now? You haven’t talked to me all day.”

  “I know, but can you let me explain myself? I have a really good reason, I promise.”

  “So talk.”

  “Can we talk in private?”

  The words in private caught her attention. Some piece of her was immediately set on edge. She bit the inside of her cheek and looked at him. He was gone, already lost in the back of the plane.

  So he thinks that I’m just going to follow him? Why, because he’s Noah LaRock? I don’t follow men, and I’m going to tell him so.

  Her anger growing, she unbuckled her seatbelt and pushed aside the curtain that separated the two compartments. Another curtain was drawn where the two recliners were. She pushed that aside too, yanked it closed, and sat across from Noah. She was vaguely aware that they were cut off from the rest of the passengers.

  She didn’t care.

  “So, talk.” She crossed her arms across her chest and glared at him.

  “I’m sorry about today.”

  He wore a black t-shirt and jeans. His hair looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. She forced herself to focus on her anger, not on his looks.

  “Why didn’t you talk to me?”

  “Your father wants us to keep it professional, and I didn’t want to upset him.”

  “Is that what we’re doing? Being professional?”

  Her mind chided her.

  It was one kiss. Just one, brief, toe curling kiss.

  She frowned, but wasn’t sure if it was at him or herself.

  He cocked his head to the side. “Do you want it to be professional?”

  The question put her on guard. If she said yes, then the time for kisses was over. If she said no, then she was making herself vulnerable.

  Cassie Washington didn’t do vulnerable.

  She looked out of the window. “Whatever you want to do,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

  He mimicked her motions, sitting back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Whatever you want to do.”

  She bit her lip to keep from smiling.

  “I guess we can start with some food though,” he said. “Maybe some drinks. Maybe,” he reached into the space between his seat and the one next to him, and pulled out Monopoly, “some friendly competition.”

  She didn’t move.

  “Or you can sit up front, with your snoring father, for the next eight hours. Your choice.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  This choice sucks.

  She sat up in her seat. “I guess that I can amuse you for a little while. But I’m still mad at you.”

  He grinned. “Check your phone.”

  “I turned it off when I got on the plane. Not that anyone texted me.”

  “Well, turn it back on and check it.”

  “I can’t. The plane will crash.”

  “Come on, just for a second.”

  Shaking her head, she removed her phone from her shorts and turned it on. He moved to the recliner next to her. She felt his heavy presence over her shoulder. It felt as if someone had put a metal band around her lungs.

  Why was it so hard to breathe around him?

  “If this plane crashes, I’m blaming you,” she said shortly.

  “If this plane crashes, no one will be doing anything.”

  The phone booted up, and in a moment, there was a notification of a missed message.

  She clicked on it.

  It was from an unknown number.

  “I don’t answer unknown numbers,” she said.

  “Oh stop, just open it.”

  She felt him inch closer, just over her shoulder now. She clicked on the text message.

  Unknown: Good morning, beautiful.

  A gentle kiss touched her shoulder, his lips setting fire to her cool skin.

  If she wasn’t sitting, she was sure that she would’ve collapsed.

  “I thought about you all night, and all morning. I wasn’t ignoring you. I couldn’t ignore you if I wanted to.”

  His lips were at her ear now. Her world shrunk, reduced to his breath at her side. An arm came around her, gently turning her to him.

  “Cas,” he whispered. His breath was on her lips now. “You’re so beautiful.”

  Suddenly, a knock.

  They jumped back, Cassie hiding her face behind her hands. She swore that her heart just stopped.

  “Mr. LaRock, I have your refreshments.”

  Noah cleared his throat, ran a hand down his face. “Come in.”

  The stewardess appeared at the curtain. She kept her eyes on the platter of food in front of her as she set out sandwiches, chips, fruit, and bottles of wine. She left as silently as she entered.

  The scent of food teased her nostrils, but Cassie could smell none of it. The air around her was too heavy with Noah’s scent. Spicy vanilla.

  He wants me, Cassie thought. She felt her heart race at the thought. He wants me.

  Noah moved back to his seat, his eyes on the food. The dark cloud had settled onto his face again.

  No, Mr. LaRock, she thought. No dark clouds today.

  Picking up a sandwich, she placed it on the tray at her side and pulled out the board game that was sitting under the table.

  “Don’t go getting all sour on me, Noah,” she said, opening the top of the box. “You promised me a board game.”

  He squeezed his lips together in a small smile. “Yeah. A game.”

  “I must warn you, I’m very competitive.”

  The dark cloud moved a bit further away.

  “Really? Well, Ms. Washington, you have never played a board game with me.”

  The cloud was gone completely by the time he took a bite of his sandwich and rubbed his hands together. “Let’s play.”

  “All right.” She ran her hands down her arms, willing away the goose bumps.


  He reached next to his chair, handed her a thick, pilled grey sweater.

  “Here,” he said.

  She reached for it, their fingertips touching. Heat flared between them.

  Deliberately averting his eyes, she pulled the garment on and rolled up the sleeves. Noah’s scent surrounded her. She pulled the sweater tight around her, imagining that it was his arms.

  “All better?” he asked.

  She nodded, her eyes finding their way back to his. “All better.”

  The hours flew by. They talked, they ate, they drank, and they played Monopoly. Cassie didn’t know when she’d had so much fun.

  “So, Farmer Cassie, how long are you planning on staying with our merry little band?” he asked.

  She shook the two dice in her hand, and rolled them onto the board. “Eight more days.”

  “Not a long time.”

  “Long enough.”

  He looked up. “Is it?”

  She shrugged. “Summer vacation’s almost over.” She moved the silver boot six spaces. “Then it’s back to school, building dreams.”

  “You’re really excited about being a doctor, aren’t you?”

  “More than anything.”

  “And how much longer are you in school for?”

  “A year, remember?”

  He grimaced. “A year is a long time.”

  He picked up the dice, rolled a seven, and moved the little silver boat.

  “It’ll be over before I know it. Or so I’m told.”

  He picked up the dice, placed them in her open palm. He kept his hand there, not releasing the dice to her.

  Her brain shut down at his touch.

  His gaze held hers. He looked down at her lips, then back up into her eyes. She mimicked the action. She hadn’t realized that she could want something so badly until that very moment.

  She wanted him to kiss her again. Plain and simple.

  He placed her hand inside both of his, and brought her cupped palms to his lips. He gently blew on them, squeezed her hands shut, and released her.

  “Your turn.”

  She couldn’t breathe.

  She envisioned herself climbing over the table, putting her lips on his, and never letting go. The thought made her heart pound. She shook her head, trying to regain some ground.

  “Cas?”

  “Huh? Yes, my turn.”

 

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