OPEN YOUR HEART: Material Girls 1

by Henry, Sophia

  “It’s okay.” She curls her fingers over my shoulders. “I know you’ve been really stressed.”

  “I really am sorry, baby. Fuck! I’m such an idiot.”

  She places a hand on my cheek and smiles. “I’m not mad at you, Austin. I’m proud of everything you’ve done to get here. This moment right here.” She looks into my eyes. “You’ve worked your ass off. I haven’t known you long, but I can see that.”

  There’s nothing better she could have said in that moment. Nothing.

  “Thank you, babe. That means the world to me.” I squeeze her into my side and place my lips on the top of her head, breathing in the botanical scent of her hair and the positivity she emits.

  How many girls would have railed me? Absolutely railed me for not telling her that we didn’t have a hotel. Liz is used to having everything planned out, yet she can still put her expectations aside and see the situation from my point of view. The point of view of a guy doing everything I possibly can to make this band a success. She can forgive my oversight. I’ve never met a kinder woman.

  When I release her, she digs into her purse and retrieves her phone.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “Checking out hotels.” Her fingers dance across her screen. “Oooh, the Marriott has a room available.”

  “I bet that costs a mint tonight. They up the prices for festivals.”

  “It’s no big deal,” she says absently.

  “It’s just a place to sleep and put your stuff.”

  Liz looks up from her phone. “And shower.” She winks.

  While I appreciate her dirty mind, I don’t think she’s getting my point. “Well, a motel on the outskirts of the city serves the same purpose. And it’s probably one third the price.”

  “I’m sure it is, but I’d rather stay at the Marriott.”

  “Why? What does it matter? You’re not even gonna be there for most of the time.”

  “Because I like to be comfortable and close. And honestly—because I can.”

  My mouth had been open, poised to strike, but I can’t do it. Instead, I shake my head and smile. “Exactly.”

  “I don’t have to defend myself to you.”

  “Never said you did.”

  “I can tell by your look.”

  “What can you tell by my look?”

  “That you think I’m a spoiled, wasteful, rich bitch.” She glances out the window, avoiding my eyes.

  As much as I hate to admit it, the thought passed through my head. And it pisses me off that it was there, no matter how fleeting. I’m an asshole for putting that stereotype on Liz, when I know she’s so much more than that.

  “I don’t feel that way about you at all, Liz. I’m sorry if it came across that way.”

  “I’m used to it.” She shrugs.

  “Maybe you are—” I run my hand through her hair and lock eyes with her. “But I never want to be the person who makes you feel that way.”

  By the way her expression changes from hurt to surprise, I can tell she’s not expecting my words. She thinks I’m gonna call her out, treat her like shit like so many people before me. But I know she’s a good person. She doesn’t flaunt her wealth, she’s just used to having it—and using it. She’s trying to help in the way she knows how.

  “Thank you.”

  I close my fist in her, pulling gently, holding her in place. Her breath hitches every time I do it, which is always my clue that she loves it. Sweat runs down my back, fueled by the intimate stance with Liz and the scorching Atlanta sun streaming through the window.

  “I think it’s silly to pay hundreds of dollars for a place to sleep—but that doesn’t say anything about how I think of you as a person. I see your generosity. I know you just want us to be comfortable. Hell, someday I hope I don’t give a fuck about how much a hotel room costs.”

  “It’ll happen,” Liz assures me, nudging my nose with hers. “And you’ll still care, because not being wasteful is instilled in you. We’ll spend our money wisely.”

  “We?” I ask.

  “Yeah, we. Future us.”

  “I love when you talk like that.”

  Her acknowledgment of a future is exciting and scary simultaneously. I love that Liz sees a future with me. But whenever I think too far ahead, it seems to come crashing down around me. All I want to focus on is right now. It’s all I can control.

  Liz slides her hand onto my neck and massages the back. I melt into her touch, pulling our bodies even closer.

  I can’t help the slow moan that escapes as she kneads my neck. It’s an erogenous zone. And Liz knows every time she touches me there, it gets me all worked up. It’s like a secret weapon she uses to get me to chill out. She thinks she’s tricky, and I let her. Because I love her hands on me.

  “Too bad we don’t have a room,” I whisper in her ear. “I want to fuck you so badly right now.”

  She pulls away slightly and looks me in the eye. “Are you trying to pick a fight?”

  My lips turn up in a smile, because I know she’s kidding.

  “I like when you get all feisty, babe. Makes you savage in bed.”

  “Whatever.” Liz rolls her eyes.

  But I’m not letting it go that easily. “You start scratching my back and biting my shoulder. You ask me to slam into you harder.”

  I can tell my words affect her by the way her breathing increases. She shivers and presses her body against mine. Heat pools in my torso and spreads straight to my dick. That same heat must be getting to Liz, too, because her cheeks flush a beautiful rosy pink. Which means I’m not gonna stop.

  “I love the feeling of you grinding and writhing against my cock. It’s so fucking sexy.”

  Suddenly, Liz’s lips crash onto mine almost as if she can’t help it. Magnets pulled together involuntarily. She moans into my mouth when I press my cock against her. I’m so ready to fuck my girl, I don’t know if I’ll be able to wait for a hotel room.

  “Please let me fuck you?” I ask, breathing heavy onto her lips. “Right here.”

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  I laugh. “It sounds much cooler than it would really be, right?” I glance down, though I can’t even see the bench under our bodies. “This thing is too hard and small and covered in piss and—”

  “Oh my god! Stop!” Liz sits up slightly.

  I laugh again and hug her to me. “Sorry I mentioned that after we drove all the way here, sitting on it.”

  “I feel the need to Lysol my butt.”

  “Oh girl!” I nuzzle my face into her neck. “I’ll take care of your ass. Don’t you worry.”

  “You suck.”

  “Actually, you do. And you’re so fucking good at it.”

  My comment makes her dip her head, hiding her face in my chest. I don’t understand how she can be so good at sex, yet so shy about it at the same time. As if she doesn’t realize she’s a fucking goddess. I consider it my personal mission to make her aware. Over and over again.

  16

  Liz

  How Austin makes me feel about myself is one of my favorite things about him. He has this knack for seeing the best part in people and telling them. I’ve seen him do it with his bandmates.

  I haven’t known many people who genuinely want to make others feel good about themselves without asking for something in return. Everyone’s looking for personal gain. Nothing comes without a price.

  I’m used to the competition—the rat race. Even in relationships. What can I get from the other person? How will a relationship benefit me? How can this person get me to where I want to be?

  It’s sad really.

  It’s also sad that, as much as I want to have sex with him right now, I’d be far more concerned with the cleanliness of this bench than the pleasure he gives me.

  “Can I please book us a hotel room?” I ask. “I promise it won’t be fancy.”

  Austin sighs. “I will agree if you let me pick the hotel.”

  I pause,
unsure of how to respond. I know he’d never put is in a bad situation on purpose, but I’m still worried about the kind of place he’ll pick.

  Austin calls me on my hesitation immediately.

  “Compromise, Liz. It’s the key to successful relationships.”

  “You’re right.” I nod and hand him my phone. “You pick the place. But I also get to pick up the tab for rooms for the guys.”

  A look of surprise crosses Austin’s face. “You’d do that?”

  “Of course.” I smile and brush my palm over his cheek and beard. “How mean would it be to stay in a hotel room and let the guys sweat to death in that van?”

  Austin shrugs. “They’ve done it before.” His lips slide into a smile.

  I smack his bicep lightly. “You’re a jerk.”

  “I prefer diva. The lead singer is always a diva.” He winks at me.

  My level-headed, sexy, scruffy boyfriend is the furthest thing from a diva.

  He pulls me onto his lap, wrapping his arms around me as he scrolls the hotel options I’ve pulled up on my phone. Then he kisses the top of my head, an action that always makes me melt.

  “You are the kindest, most generous person I’ve ever met, Miss Honey.”

  “It’s no big deal,” I say, nestling into him, resting my cheek on the soft, worn T-shirt covering his hard chest. “Three hotel rooms at whatever place you pick will cost less than one room at any place I would’ve picked.”

  “It’s not about the money, Liz. It’s about your heart.”

  I tilt my head back so I can see his face. “I have the means. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Not everyone thinks that way.”

  “I’ve never thought any other way.”

  “I believe that, babe.”

  “But I’ve always had the means, so—”

  “I bet we can both think of instances where someone who was more than able to didn’t help out, yes?”

  “Well, sure, but—”

  “Liz?” Austin interrupts.

  “Yeah?”

  “Just take the fucking compliment.”

  He’s not angry or exasperated. He’s genuinely trying to get me to see myself as he sees me.

  “Thank you, Austin.”

  “Better. Now let me find us a hotel so I can fuck you before I have to walk around Atlanta with the most uncomfortable hard-on ever.”

  I bury my face in his chest again and laugh softly, inhaling the scent of sweat and detergent.

  “I’ve been trying to ignore your conversation, but if I hear y’all start having sex, I’m getting it on video,” Tim says, glancing over his shoulder at us.

  “We’re not having sex,” Austin replies. He returns his gaze to the phone screen.

  “A sex tape gone viral might be the injection we need to take this shit to the next level,” Tim says. He actually sounds as if he’s contemplating it.

  I glance at Austin, who dismisses it with a grimace and shake of his head. A wave of relief calms me. As much as I love Austin, the thought of being in a viral sex tape makes me want to puke. That’d be a great thing to have to defend and dismiss at every stage of my career.

  As much as I love Austin.

  It’s the first time I’ve admitted it to myself, though the feelings have been building for months—with every touch, every kiss, every conversation. Austin has burrowed himself into my heart, helping me overcome the devastation of the end of my surgical career, and helping me see the excitement of the next chapter in my life.

  Pushing back the excitement of my personal revelation, I snuggle even closer to Austin and start scanning the hotel app with him. Once we start looking, we realize quickly that many of Atlanta’s hotels are completely booked. We finally settle on a place outside of the city that seems to meet my cleanliness standards, as well as Austin’s price point.

  “Hey dickbags! My fucking amazing girlfriend got us rooms for this weekend. Let’s go put our shit down before we head to the festival.”

  His announcement is met with:

  “Sweet!”

  “You rock, Liz! Thanks!”

  “Sugar mama comes through.”

  Austin scowls and immediately lurches forward toward Tim. “If I ever hear you say anything like that again, you’ll be sleeping in another band’s van.”

  I gasp, startled at his threat. Then I place my hands on his shoulders and pull him back. “Austin, please don’t.”

  “Jesus,” Fozzie whispers.

  “I was joking,” Tim says.

  “It’s an unacceptable joke.” Austin’s jaw is hard, unyielding. I know his reaction encompasses more than just the current situation.

  “Get a fucking grip, Austin.”

  Leaning close to his ear, I whisper, “Please let it go. You’re all excited and stressed about this festival. Tempers are high. I knew he was kidding.”

  The truth is, I don’t think Tim is kidding at all, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is not allowing the band to get into a fight about something so stupid a day before they’re about to play their first big festival.

  Never mind that the “something so stupid” is me.

  * * *

  As the van pulls into the hotel parking lot, I hold back a groan. Wealthy or not, I don’t know one person that isn’t creeped out by hotels with room doors on the outside. I don’t know why. Maybe it feels like a lack of security. Anyone can walk right up—hitchhikers, prostitutes.

  Suddenly, I’m ripped out of my thoughts because all eyes in the van are focused on me. Even Jimmy, who’s driving, is looking at me in the rearview mirror.

  “Don’t worry, Liz. We’ll keep you safe from hitchhikers and prostitutes,” Fozzie says, breaking a moment of awkward silence.

  I close my eyes and cover my face with one hand when I realize I voiced my concerns out loud.

  “You’re on your own with Austin, though. No one can tame him,” he adds.

  Interesting phrasing.

  “I don’t want to tame him,” I answer, placing my hand on Austin’s thigh and squeezing. “I like him wild.”

  I swear I hear his chest puff out, despite the laughter from the other guys.

  It's true, though. There’s not one thing I would change about him.

  * * *

  Once we check into the hotel and get rooms sorted, Austin and I hurry to ours. There’s a king-sized bed, waiting for us to consummate, and yet, I can’t help but wonder…

  “You want to have sex in the van, don’t you?” I ask, setting my phone on the dresser next to the TV.

  Austin’s face lights up, a sheepish grin turning his lips upward. “I’ve always wanted to fuck in there. It’s a weird bucket list thing before we make it big and move to a tour bus.”

  I shake my head in disbelief, not at his fantasy, but at the words that are about to come out of my mouth. “Should we sneak out there tonight and do it?”

  His eyes widen and that grin slides into a full kid-at-Christmas glow. “You’d do that for me?”

  I nod without hesitation. “How can I say no when something so easy is bucket-list for you? I mean, that’s a big-time fantasy.” My heart speeds up as I realize just how much I’d do for this man.

  “You’re so fucking awesome.”

  His compliment both delights and confuses me. I’ve never had anyone think of me that way—and no one like a hot, brooding musician.

  At the same time, I’m trying to wrap my mind around how unsanitary and uncomfortable it’s going to be.

  Boys are gross.

  But the idea must make Austin happy, because he plants a quick kiss on my lips before skipping to the door. “You get settled and ready for bed. I'll be right back.”

  “Okay…”

  “Gotta get pretty for my girl.” He winks before disappearing through the door.

  The room is brighter and cleaner than I imagined when we pulled up. Still, I immediately roll down the comforter until it’s a fluffy log on the floor at the foot of the bed. Not going to touch that thing.r />
  With Austin gone, it’s my chance to freshen up from the sexy, sweaty bus ride. I’ve never had this kind of reaction to anyone before. That’s not to say previous partners didn’t get me aroused, but it’s constant with Austin. All it takes is hearing his voice or seeing his face—hell, even an innocent text saying hello—and my body reacts. It’s a bit embarrassing when I’m in public and he’s not around.

  Screw those guys who said I was cold. Maybe it was them. Maybe they didn’t get me hot and bothered. I can’t make my body react if it isn’t stimulated.

  As I unzip my Kate Spade weekender bag, I glance at Austin’s grubby duffel. Sliding my finger across an especially worn area that looks like it’ll rip at any moment, I make a mental note to get him a new one when we get home. He’ll need a better bag for all the upcoming travel. I smile, proud, as I think about all of the hard work that has gone into getting where they are right now, and thrilled at the amazing opportunities they have lined up.

  Because my head has been so scattered recently, I decide a mental note isn’t going to do. I stand up and cross the room, grabbing my phone from the dresser. After a few quick searches, I decide on a beautiful sturdy Tumi bag and place the order immediately. It’s basic black, nothing extravagant or flashy, as I know he wouldn’t like that, but it’s definitely something that will last through the upcoming travel.

  I dig my toiletry case out of my bag and wander into the bathroom. I hadn’t planned on taking a shower, but sweat still rolls down my back and I realize, it’s a must. It was so hot out today and all we were doing was walking around Atlanta. I can’t even imagine what it will be like standing outside tomorrow with the sun beating down. Austin’s set is at 3:30 p.m.—when the sun is at its peak.

  Leaning over the tub, I reach over and turn the water on, keeping my hand under the stream until it reaches the perfect temperature. After placing my shampoo, conditioner, and body gel on the edge of the tub, I whip my sundress to the floor and slide out of my underwear, before stepping into the shower. The cool water pelting my skin feels amazing.