“Can I ask you a question?” I finally asked.
He nodded.
“If I say no, am I stuck with you tonight anyway?”
“You always have a choice, Jimi. But choices inevitably come with consequences. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll sit outside your door all night if I have to, but it might be a little more fun for both of us to get out of here for a little while.”
“I’ll go to dinner because I need nutrition to survive, not because I want to spend time with you.”
His eyebrows shot up. He was shocked that I’d agreed to go.
“Let me just get dressed.”
“Don’t do that on my account,” he said, a sexy grin spreading across his face.
Fuck him and his hot face.
I grabbed some clean underwear, a t-shirt, and jeans from my suitcase and changed in the bathroom. I touched up my make-up and ran a brush through my hair, ultimately deciding to pull it back into a messy ponytail. I neatly hung my robe on the back of my door.
I met Parker back in the main area of my suite. He was flipping through the television channels mindlessly as he leaned back against the headboard, his legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. I studied him for a moment before moving fully into the room.
He had the whole brooding bad boy thing going on. His dark hair was wavy and messy. A little bit of scruff outlined his jaw. His dark eyes were focused ahead on the television, but I could tell he had something on his mind.
I wondered if it was me.
I tore my eyes away from the drink that did nothing to quench my thirst for him and walked past him to my suitcase. I pulled out a pair of Toms and stuck them on my feet, zipped up my suitcase, and shut the curtains on the windows. I was ready to go.
“Pizza okay?” he asked, turning off the television and standing when he saw that I was ready.
I nodded. “Fine with me.”
“I know a place near Times Square. You up for it?”
I shrugged, and he laughed.
I stuck my hotel room keycard in my wristlet with my wallet, my cell phone, some lip balm, and a pack of gum.
We walked toward the elevators, and Parker hit the call button.
The doors slid open, and we walked on alone.
I felt his eyes on me, but I stared at the numbers on the electronic dial. Anything not to acknowledge that we were in a tiny space together that was obviously filled with sexual tension.
We finally arrived at the lobby and Parker held the door open for me. “Cab or walk?”
“How far?” I asked.
“About a mile.”
“Walk.” I wanted to stretch my legs. A little exercise always helped refresh me, and just the smell of New York City gave me a little energy back.
The sidewalks were crowded with tourists and locals making their way to their destinations. Parker and I weaved in and out of them, always side by side but never touching.
The walk was brisk and had enough of a crowd to prevent conversation as we made our way to the restaurant. It was one of those places where patrons placed orders at the counter and the servers dished it right up. After Parker paid our tab, we grabbed some sodas and found an empty booth.
I took a bite of the steaming hot square of pepperoni pizza in front of me and moaned in ecstasy. It was possibly the best slice of pizza I’d ever tasted.
Parker visibly shifted in his seat, staring at me as I enjoyed my food. He muttered something under his breath that I missed.
“Excuse me?” I asked between bites, taking a sip of Coke.
“You definitely know how to torture a man.”
I smirked at him and turned my attention to my food, doing my best to ignore him for the rest of my meal.
It was when we were walking back to the hotel that I felt a strange sensation that made the hair on the back of my neck stand at attention.
I glanced around, trying to pinpoint the source of the sensation. I was certain someone was watching me.
Maybe it was just paparazzi. People knew Black Shadow was in town. People knew who I was, even though they generally left me alone.
But this felt different. It was darker. Scarier.
Parker looked over at me and saw the panic written in my eyes. I saw a flash of fear in his eyes, too. That look told me he felt it, too. He looked around us, and I instinctively moved in a little closer to him. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder.
I froze, not because of the strange feeling that I was being watched.
It was because Parker’s arm was around me and I wasn’t prepared to deal with what that could mean. I was still trying to stitch the gaping hole he’d left when he’d cut through my heart. Even if I wanted to forgive and forget, the wound was too fresh.
The pain that lanced through my chest when his arm was around me was too much. I stepped away from him, out of his grasp. He gave me a look that clearly told me to get the fuck back into his arms, but I couldn’t.
I knew from the beginning that Parker and I would be dangerous for one another, and I was right. It was silly to think that this could have turned out any other way, but the moment Parker and I moved beyond friendship, this moment of suffering was inevitable.
He couldn’t have lied to me forever. Eventually I would have learned the truth about why he’d crashed into my life. Eventually I would have felt this betrayal. And if he’d have been up front with me, I’d never have given him the time of day, let alone the kind of access to my body, my thoughts, and my heart that I’d handed over on a silver platter.
I stalked on ahead of him, our moment on the street together gone.
He followed me through the front doors of the Four Seasons and toward the elevator. I seethed with anger.
“Can I just walk you up to your room and check it before you kick me out?” he asked once the elevator doors shut us in.
I folded my arms across my chest, refusing to look at him.
Because I knew that it would only take one look from him, and I’d break. I wanted him to wrap me in his arms, to kiss me, to run his tongue along every crevice of my body, to fuck me.
I wanted his protection again.
But I hated him. I hated what he’d done. I hated that he’d conspired behind my back, that he’d known things about me that not even I did.
I pulled my key out of my wristlet and practically ran down the hallway to my room once the elevator doors opened.
I stuck the card in the slot and opened the door after I got the green light. I didn’t bother to hold the door for Parker, but he still made it in behind me.
I glanced around my room. Something was off, but I wasn’t sure what it was. Parker stared at the windows.
“Motherfucker,” he said, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket and shooting off a text.
“What?” I asked.
I gazed out the windows, trying to figure out what his deal was.
And that’s when I realized that my curtains were open.
I specifically remembered shutting them before I left.
I looked for more clues. I heard Parker’s phone ding with text as I glanced around my room.
The lid of my suitcase was askew, as if I’d left in a bit of a rush.
I had zipped it shut before I left.
Someone had been in my room.
It had to have been the maid. They had to have come in for turndown service. But even as I thought it, I knew that couldn’t be it. Rebecca always specifically requested no turndown service upon check-in at my dad’s request. It was easier to make the same request for all of the rooms she booked.
I ran to the bathroom. If there were fresh towels, that meant it was the maid service. I’d chalk it up to miscommunication with the check-in staff.
The bathrobe I’d hung neatly on the back of the door still neatly where I’d left it. The hand towels I’d thrown on the counter were still on the counter. And the bath towel I’d tossed on the floor after my bath was still there, exactly where I’d left it.
I had no idea if they’d taken something. I had no idea what they were looking for. But I was certain someone had been in there.
A tremor of fear raced up my spine.
“I know you’re going to be opposed to this, but you’re coming to my room for the night.” Parker’s voice broke into my thoughts. I was wringing one of the hand towels in my hands anxiously.
I nodded.
He was, after all, hired to protect me.
And as much as I didn’t want to be near him, I needed him to do his job.
I needed him to protect me.
thirty-four
Parker’s room was one floor down from mine. After I’d hurriedly gathered my belongings, he ushered me quickly down to his room. He bolted the door behind us and latched the swing lock.
“What’s going on?” I asked as I stepped into his room. He set my suitcase on the dresser. I glanced around the room. It was smaller than mine, presumably not a suite, but it was still extravagant.
“I don’t know.” He nervously checked his phone when it started ringing in his hand. His nerves were fucking with my ability to remain calm.
“The curtains were open. She closed them before we left,” he answered. His voice was stiff.
He handed me the phone. “It’s your dad.”
I sighed. “Hi.”
“You okay, CC?” he asked softly.
“No, Dad. I’m not fucking okay. I’m freaked out. You two aren’t telling me anything but lies.”
“This is on a need to know basis.”
“I’d say we’re at the needing to know step right about now.”
I heard him sigh audibly over the phone. “Look, I’m just glad you’re here with us instead of home alone. I know you’re mad, and I know you want answers, but I can’t give them. Okay? Just try to relax. Stay with PJ. He will keep you safe.”
“Fine. But for the record, I hate you both.”
“I know. And I love you.”
I hung up and threw Parker’s phone at him. In a swift move that managed to irritate me for some reason, he caught it gracefully.
He watched me silently. Carefully.
A thought flashed through my mind, but it couldn’t be.
I considered calling my dad back to see where his deceitful wife was, but I decided to keep my thoughts to myself for the time being. I was mad at my dad. I didn’t want to talk to Parker. I didn’t trust Jadyn. I had the sneaking suspicion she might have been the one who broke into my room. The question was why she would do that.
“Did Rebecca book this room?” I asked.
Parker nodded.
“Awesome.” I opened the minibar and helped myself to a tiny bottle of Absolut. There were two more lined up behind it, so I took those out, too. If I was spending the night in Parker’s hotel room, scared out of my mind that someone had rifled through my shit while I was out of my room, I was going to spend the time drunk… and apparently on my father’s dime.
“Pass me that Jameson shit,” Parker said. I handed him the three mini bottles of whiskey.
I twisted off the cap of the Absolut and took my first shot of the night. Those tiny bottles actually held about five milliliters more than a shot, but they were close enough.
I watched as Parker twisted off his cap, too. He offered his up toward me for a toast, but I rolled my eyes at him. This wasn’t meant to be fun. I was stuck in a room with someone who I didn’t want to even be around. I was too angry to consider making the best of things.
I twisted off the cap of the second bottle and drank it down in one big gulp.
I started twisting the cap off of the third, but Parker stopped me, grabbing the bottle from my hand. “Slow down, babe.”
“Fuck off,” I said, reaching for the precious liquid he’d taken from me.
He held me off. “Five minutes. Let the first two hit your system.”
I huffed angrily and headed over to the bed, throwing myself down on it with a loud moan of frustration. I heard Parker chuckle.
I sat up in bed and faced him with a glare of fury. “This isn’t funny, Parker. I’m scared. I’m mad. I’m frustrated. I’m pissed that I have to be locked in here with you. Nothing about this is funny, so stop your goddamn laughing.”
I watched as he twisted the cap off his second bottle of whiskey and drank it down. He grimaced after he swallowed, and then he sucked in some air between his teeth.
“This isn’t ideal for me, either.”
“Bullshit. You love that I’m stuck here with you.”
He moved across the room gracefully, stopping right in front of me. He stared down at me, sadness swimming in his dark eyes. His voice was tender when he spoke. “I wish you wanted to be here with me as much as I want you here. I love that you’re here in my bed, but I wish it was on your own accord. I wish you were safe. I wish I didn’t have to protect you. I wish your dad never would’ve asked me to do this. I never had regrets in life until the day you were hurt because of me.”
He tossed the last bottle of vodka to me. “Do what you want.” It landed with a thud next to my thigh as he turned and headed toward the small loveseat. He faced the window, his back to me as he stared out over New York City, and I sat in bed processing his words.
I picked up the bottle and stared at it. I wanted to suck it back, but I probably needed at least a few of my wits about me.
Because being locked in a room with Parker James was hard enough. If I was locked in a room with Parker James and I was drunk, who knew what sort of trouble I’d get myself into.
I glanced over at him. He was brooding as he stared out the window. He was probably feeling all of the same things I was, just in different ways.
He was scared. He was manly enough that he’d never admit that to me, but I saw the fear that flashed in his eyes when I’d felt that strange presence outside. The question was whether he was scared because someone was seemingly out to get me or whether he was scared that he’d lose his job and my dad’s respect if he let anything happen to me.
I had to believe that he cared about me. The sincerity in his voice had been genuine when he told me that he’d fallen in love with me. I didn’t doubt for a second that he loved me, because I felt it, too.
But I wasn’t sure love was enough. Too many lies had been told. Too much of the truth had been left out.
Even now he was hiding things from me. He and my dad still had their secrets, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever find out the whole truth.
The other predominant emotion I felt was frustration, and I saw the same emotion written all over Parker. He was frustrated with himself for hurting me. He was frustrated with me because I was so stubborn. And he had to be frustrated that he was stuck in a hotel room with me while his band was out sightseeing New York City without him. Touring with Black Shadow was a huge break for them, and he was missing out on the rewards that came with that.
For whatever reason—whether it was because he was on my dad’s payroll or because he truly cared about me—he sat in a hotel room watching over me, making sure I was safe.
I glanced back at the bottle of vodka in my hand. What was the worst that could happen? We were locked in a room together.
Ultimately I decided to take my chances.
I twisted off the cap and threw back the vodka. The liquid burned its way down my chest. I felt it settle in my belly, warming me.
The first two were starting to hit me, and the familiar muddying sensation of tipsiness started to wash over me, obscuring rational thought. I felt lighter, some of the heaviness of the past day disintegrating.
I stood up from the bed. I opened my suitcase and grabbed a pair of shorts and a tank top to sleep in, and then I went to the bathroom to change. It was early to go to sleep, but it looked like I was locked in for the night. I figured I might as well get comfortable. I stripped out of my jeans and t-shirt and glanced at the back of the door
. A fluffy bathrobe hung on the back of the door, just as it had in my room. I didn’t want to tempt Parker, but all I wanted was the comfort of that fluffy bathrobe. I opted for pulling it on over my nightclothes. I emerged from the bathroom and set my clothes from the day on top of my suitcase. I felt Parker’s eyes on me as I walked over to the minibar, pulling out the rum. Three shots of vodka wouldn’t kill me. Rum on top of vodka wouldn’t kill me, either.
“What’re you doing?” Parker asked, watching me pull out three tiny bottles.
“Getting drunk. Why the fuck don’t they stock these things with whole bottles?”
“You sure it’s a good idea to mix vodka and rum?”
“You sure you want to ask me that?”
He shrugged.
I couldn’t help my smile. “I see I’m starting to rub off on you.”
He unscrewed the cap to the third bottle of whiskey. “You can rub off on me anytime,” he muttered, and then he tossed back the liquid. “This tastes pretty good after the first two.” I glanced up and saw him inspecting the bottle. He tossed it on the table beside him. “Good call on the full bottles. I think you might be onto something.”
“Especially when money is no object. Let’s order room service and charge it to dear old Dad. Vodka for me, whiskey for you.”
He gazed sideways at me. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?” I challenged.
He stood and walked over toward me. The alcohol had helped dissipate some of the tension that crackled between us.
He took my chin in his fingertips, forcing me to meet his gaze. It was warm. It was sincere.
And it was worried.
“Because, Jimi. Someone got past every precaution your dad and I put in place and somehow got into your room while we were out. I’m not taking any chances.”
He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead, and then he dropped my chin, took one of the small bottles of rum out of my hands, and turned back toward the window, reclaiming his spot on the loveseat.
But in the simple gesture of the split second when his lips touched my forehead, I forgot about the betrayal and the hurt. All I could focus on was how good Parker felt and how right my world turned when any part of him pressed to my skin.
Vintage Volume One Page 19
