Heartstrings: A Dirty Affliction Novel

by Regina Frame

  Chapter Six

  Honor

  I was worried about him. I had a strange feeling that something wasn't right. He disappeared into his room the night before, and then there was the sound of glass breaking. I tried his door, but it was locked, and when I talked to him through the door, he'd said he was okay. I don't know that I believed him, because his speech was slurred and I hadn't seen him take a drink of anything since he'd been home.

  When I went to bed, I slept with my door open just in case I needed to run to him. Sometime in the night, I'd woken up to the sound of him talking in his sleep. His voice had been strained as if he were in pain, and then there was the sound of soft cries bleeding through the walls.

  I headed into the kitchen and pulled out the waffle iron and plugged it in so that it could begin heating up. Then I started a pot of coffee and mixed up the waffle batter.

  By the time I'd finished making waffles, Chance stepped into the room. He was wearing a pair of faded black sweats that hung low on his hips, revealing one hell of a deep V at his hip bones. His chest was bare, and, once again, my eyes were drawn to the scroll of music that was inked on his side and disappeared behind those sweats.

  "Morning, Sparkles," he greeted, eyeing me over the rim of his coffee mug.

  I hadn't even noticed that he'd poured himself a cup, because I was too busy licking his naked chest in my re-occurring fantasy.

  His eyes slowly raked over my body as if he were undressing me with in his mind.

  My body heated and my panties dampened from the intensity behind those green eyes. I'd almost forgotten that I was dressed in a thin pair of cotton sleep shorts and a tee shirt with no bra. My nipples pebbled, straining against the thin cotton of my shirt, and that familiar ache was back between my thighs. I nervously cleared my throat in an attempt to call attention to something other than my breasts. He looked tired, like he hadn't slept much, and he had dark circles around his eyes.

  "Morning. Sleep okay?" I asked. He just gave me a nod and didn't say anything. I studied him as he grabbed a plate and stacked a couple of homemade waffles on top before taking a seat at the table across from me. "I thought I heard a crash last night. Everything okay?" I probably shouldn't have asked, but I needed to know.

  "Yeah. All good, Sparkles. I just knocked over the lamp while getting in to bed." He shifted in his seat.

  I was making him uncomfortable, so I changed the subject.

  "I hope you like chocolate chip. If not, I can make you something else." I paused a moment, studying him from across the table. When he didn't respond, I said, “I'm sorry. I didn't even think about that when I made them. I can make something else." I pushed up from the table, but before I could step away, his warm fingers wrapped around my wrist, sending tingles up my arm and straight to my nipples.

  "It's my favorite, too." He shoved a forkful in his mouth and grinned as he chewed.

  He had a little bit of scruff on his chin that morning, which I found sexy as hell. I had to fight back the urge to lean in and lick the syrup from full lips. I know I should have respected the invisible boundaries between me and my roommate, but it was getting harder and harder as each day passed.

  "What are your plans for the day?" he asked.

  "I thought I'd do a little Christmas shopping. Want to come along?"

  I figured there was no way in hell that he'd go, because didn’t all men hate to shop? To say I was shocked when he agreed would be an understatement. I couldn't help but grin at the thought of spending the day with him doing something so normal. I also planned on working it in my favor; hoping to find something he liked for his birthday.

  I showered, straightened my hair, and did my makeup, before dressing in a pair of jeans and a navy blue sweater. When I stepped into the kitchen and caught sight of Chance in a black fitted sweater and low slung jeans, my heart skipped a beat and my stomach fluttered like a thousand butterflies had taken flight. And the way he looked at me stole my breath.

  "Security is going to meet us at the back entrance," he said, shoving his phone in his pocket.

  "What?"

  "It's precaution. Times are changing, Sparkles. You may as well get used to it. You can't expect to do the everyday stuff without being stalked by fans, or the paparazzi. Trust me: they're waiting around every corner."

  I couldn’t believe I didn't think of that.

  I thought back to all the pictures I'd seen of them in restaurants and clubs. He was right. I was definitely going to have to remember that.

  We climbed into his Porsche, and in moments, we were flying down the interstate, headed for the mall. We were talking about our upcoming appearance at The Playboy Manor when an SUV came barreling up beside us. They were swerving all over the road as a guy with a camera hung out the window. His camera was one of those with a huge zoom lens, and it was pointed at us.

  "Oh-my-god! They're going to cause a wreck." Leaning forward in my seat, I grabbed my purse from the floor to search for my phone. "Should I call 911?"

  "Fuck off!" Chance barked, and then flipped the guy off.

  He pressed his foot on the gas as we weaved our way in and out of traffic. The SUV was closing in on us at a rapid speed. Then it happened. You know, when everything moves in slow motion, but yet there's nothing you can do to prevent it?

  The white SUV sideswiped us, sending us in to a tailspin and crashing into a concrete barrier that was set up in a construction area. The sound of glass shattering and metal crunching around us was deafening. The seatbelt I was wearing held me in place, but my head snapped to the side, hitting the window, and searing pain shot down my spine.

  "Breathe," Chance said, cupping my face in his hand.

  His green eyes finally came in to focus. I watched as blood trickled down his forehead from a cut on his head, and I started to cry.

  "You're bleeding."

  I lifted a shaking hand and touched a cut on his lip, causing him to wince in pain. The sound of ambulance and police sirens grew louder and louder, and then two young guys in paramedic uniforms appeared on the driver's side. I could tell the moment they realized who Chance was and that star struck look slid over their face. It was like a mask that transformed them into a totally different animal.

  "Dude! Do you know who this is?" I heard the guy ask.

  My head was beginning to pound. I heard Chance say something, but the voices blended together and became nothing but a roar. My vision blurred, and then faded to black.

  ***

  Something tight pinched my arm, and the sound of something beeping woke me from sleep. I cracked my eyes open and saw an older, gray haired woman standing beside me, staring at the beeping machine.

  "Well, hello there. Welcome back, sweetheart. My name is Melissa Conrad, and I'm the nurse in charge." She smiled sweetly at me, but must have seen the look of confusion on my face. She asked me a series of questions, including my name and birth date. "Do you remember what happened? Do you know why you're here?"

  She waited patiently while I tried to piece things together to try and remember what happened. When the door opened and Chance walked in, it all came rushing back. The car. The paparazzi chasing us. The guy hanging out of the window, pointing the camera at us.

  "Wreck," I choked out.

  Tears started to build behind my eyes, and my body began to shake. Chance moved to my side instantly and reached for my hand.

  "Shh," he soothed, lifting my hand to his mouth and kissing my knuckles. "You're okay. Everything is okay."

  He pushed a strand of hair behind my ear, trailing his fingers along my jaw line. That small touch gave me so much comfort.

  "You're not okay." I noticed the bandage on his forehead, and remembered the blood trickling down his face from the wreck.

  "It's just a scratch. I'm fine," he told me, but I wasn’t sure if I believed him. He also had a split lip.

  "I'll let the doctor know that you're awake."

  "When can I go home?"

  She looked at me with kind e
yes and a sweet smile.

  "Sweetheart, you'll be here overnight just as a precaution, but the doctor will explain all of that soon," she responded, gently patting my shoulder to comfort me.

  "Was anyone else hurt?"

  I needed to know.

  The memories of my parents dying came crashing in to my brain.

  Chance gave my hand a squeeze as he studied me for a moment as if he were trying to find the words he was searching for. Finally, he exhaled a heavy breath and sat on the bed beside me.

  "The guys in the SUV … the paparazzi didn't make it."

  I couldn't believe this was happening. People died all because they were careless while trying to get a picture of us. It was nuts. All I wanted was to do a little Christmas shopping. A simple day at the mall, listening to over-played, out-of-date Christmas music while fighting the crowds and standing in long lines. It was definitely something I would never take for granted again.

  "It's my fault. If I'd just stayed home instead of wanting to go out, people wouldn't have died!" I cried.

  Just like my parents had died on the way to my music recital. Once again, it was my fault.

  "No. No! Don't fucking do this, Sparkles. It's not your fault. Just like it's not mine. They acted carelessly, and because of that, people died. It could have been so much worse. I'm surprised with the amount of traffic, we were the only two cars involved. It's time things changed." He shook his head and paused for a moment. "I get that because we're celebrities, we basically signed away our rights to privacy, but they need to start fining these jerks for endangering lives."

  He was right for the most part, but blame sat on my shoulders like a five hundred pound weight.

  ***

  Chance

  It was a week until Christmas, and Honor was still grounded from traveling. The doctor said that it was a precaution, due to her concussion and blurred vision. He wanted her to stay close to home for a few weeks. She wasn't happy about it. She had done a lot of shopping online, but I could tell that she was depressed about not being able to go home for the holidays. I offered for her aunt and uncle to come here for Christmas, but her uncle declined, due to some fundraiser he was hosting on Christmas Eve.

  I couldn't bear to see her hurt. She hadn't smiled in days, so I decided that I'd do everything in my power to change that. That was why I had at least twenty people at my place, decorating for the holidays.

  I'd never put up a fucking Christmas tree. I'd never had a need to. When you don't have any family, it's just another day of the year. But looking at the smile on Honor's face as she fluttered around the room, giving the poor fuckers pointers on proper ornament placement, made the insane amount of money I was spending worth it. Right now, I'd give my left nut to make her smile.

  When she caught me watching her, I gave her a wink, and her smile grew brighter, causing my heart to ache in a good way.

  I stepped into the kitchen, away from Honor, and placed a phone call. If the simple decorations made her smile, I could only imagine her reaction to what I had planned next. And I was just getting started.

  ***

  An hour later, the doorbell rang, but Honor beat me to it.

  "Were you expecting a delivery?" she asked, as I stepped around the corner.

  "Come on in, guys. If you don't mind, just put everything on the counter and we'll take it from there,” I said, following them into the kitchen with Honor hot on my heels. I dug in my pocket and pulled out some cash and handed it to one of the guys. "Thanks for getting here so quickly." I turned and started to walk them out when one of them spoke.

  "Anytime, man," he answered, placing the last bag on the kitchen counter. "I know we're supposed to be all professional and stuff, but I'm a big fan." Mother fucking hell! Here we go again. "Would it be possible to get a picture before we leave?"

  "Yeah. Sure, man. Anything for a fan."

  I had to practically bite my tongue to keep from going off on the guy. He had a lot of nerve to hit me up for a damn selfie in my own house. Nothing was sacred any more.

  Once they were gone, I went back to the kitchen in search of Honor. She was standing at the counter, staring at, at least ten shopping bags.

  "What's all this?"

  She stood on her tiptoes and peeked over into one of the bags, her eyes wide with excitement. She looked fucking adorable.

  "It's a surprise." I bumped her with my hip and started taking things out of the bags and placing them on the counter.

  "I love surprises." She smiled up at me, the tiny diamond stud in her nose sparkling and her ice blue eyes dancing with excitement.

  "Good, because we're making cookies." I tugged on her ponytail, making her laugh. "Why don't you grab a couple of mixing bowls, and I'll grab the cookie sheets."

  Fuck. If the guys could see me now, they’d tattoo Betty Fucking Crocker on my forehead.

  I went to the refrigerator and took out the butter and eggs. When I turned back around, she hadn't moved. It was then that I saw the tears in her eyes and how her lower lip trembled. Shit. I only wanted to make things better.

  "What's wrong?" I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her tight against my chest. Her slender frame melted against mine. She buried her face in my chest and sniffled.

  "I can't believe you're doing this for me." Sniff. "You invited my aunt and uncle for the holidays. You bought a Christmas tree, and now we're making cookies." She lifted her watery blue eyes to mine. "What have you done with the big bad rock star?"

  I laughed, and then kissed her on the nose.

  Her breath caught, and we both froze. I couldn't believe I'd done that. It was just a kiss on the nose, but it was still a kiss. I could count on one hand how many times I'd actually kissed a woman. While I'd slept with a lot of women, I never kissed them. It was just way too personal. Too intimate.

  Honor wasn't like the others. She was easy to be around. Her main goal wasn't to sleep with me. It was to be my friend and band mate. I could tell, because most women would've already made the move and taken what they wanted, and I would have gladly given it to them. Like I said, Honor was different and that was what scares me. I needed to apply the brakes, because something told me that if I moved too fast, she'd run. Right now, I couldn't handle her running.

  "Hurry up and mix me up some cookie dough. I've been craving some since that last batch you made."

  She stuck her tongue out at me, and then laughed. I felt relief flood my body. We were right back to joking around. None of that serious shit.

  Once the cookies had cooled, we each went about icing them. I heard a gasp as Honor stepped up beside me to check out my cookie decorating skills.

  "Is that a penis on that gingerbread man?" I grinned and pointed to the next cookie sheet over.

  "Yeah, and those are boobs." I had drawn circles for tits and even placed little pink dots in the center for nipples.

  "Why would you do that?"

  "So you can tell the men from the women," I explained.

  She pointed to one that had boobs drawn on it in icing.

  "She's wearing a dress."

  "Maybe I thought that was a kilt. Besides, there are some guys who like to wear dresses. Not me, of course, and I'm by no means judging." I grinned as I squeezed the tube of icing and drew an overly large penis on my last gingerbread cookie. She shook her head and continued to watch me put the finishing touch on the last one.

  "I'm worried for your children one day." She rolled her eyes and went back to decorating her own tray of cookies.

  "Well, let me put your mind at ease. I don't want kids, so you don't have to worry about them. I'll never get the chance to emotionally scar them."

  Her blonde brows pinched together as she thought about what I'd just admitted.

  I had made the decision a long time ago that I never wanted to bring a child into my fucked up life. I had a terrible childhood, which had bled over into my adulthood and still caused issues for me. I never wanted a child of mine to have to deal with me when I w
as like that, so once we signed our record deal and the money started coming in, I took care of that.

  I had a vasectomy at the age of twenty-four. The doctor didn't want to do it because of my age. He tried his best to talk me out of it because he was sure I'd change my mind someday, but I knew I wouldn't. He even had me see a therapist, and once he read over my records and the therapist's opinion, he had no further issues in doing that surgery for me.

  It was almost kind of funny. Being celebrities, the number of women who claim to be carrying my child was shocking. I even had a chick show up one day with a two year old little boy that she claimed was mine. She even had his hair styled like mine and had dyed it blue. Poor kid. Imagine her surprise when I produced papers proving that I could never get a woman pregnant. I laughed her ass all the way out of the lawyer's office.

  "Why would you say that?" She wiped her hands down the front of the pink frilly apron I'd had sent over with the baking supplies.

  "Not everyone wants kids, Sparkles. Trust me. I know," I responded.

  If I had a dollar for every time someone told me they didn't want me, I would have been a millionaire long ago. It was no less painful today. I could feel her eyes watching me, studying me, but I kept my eyes on the task of decorating cookies.

  "I guess you're right. I'm sorry. There I go again with being nosey." Her voice lowered, and she said, "We've all got our reasons for feeling the way we do, and I respect yours."

  She smiled up at me, but there was a sadness behind her beautiful blue eyes. A sadness for me. I wasn't sure how I felt about that, but I was glad she wasn't pushing the way that some women did.

  Honor placed the last of the x-rated cookies on some fancy glass pedestal that she'd found in one of my cabinets. I didn’t have a clue how it got there, or even what it was supposed to be used for. I was just glad it was there, though, because she squealed with delight when she pulled it out. I believe the word she used was perfect.