“Thank you. Truly. Thank you for your hospitality.”
“It’s my pleasure. I owe Doc a lot for helping to get you here. It was a gift. Lord knows how long it would have taken me before I figured out how to tell you about Cole. I’ll always be grateful for him . . . and my little stalker.”
She wiped her mouth. “It was reciprocal stalking if my memory serves me correctly.”
“That it was.”
Our eyes locked. My mind wandered to that amazing blowjob she’d given me earlier. My dick stiffened. I wanted nothing more than to return the favor tonight.
“So when do you leave for Vancouver again?” she asked, interrupting my fantasizing.
The thought of my upcoming trip filled me with dread.
“In about a week.”
“It’s a music festival, you said?”
“Yeah. It’s called Beaverstock.”
“Beaver?”
“It’s a vagina festival.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“I’m joking. The name apparently comes from the urban beavers that dwell in the city.”
“Wow. Okay.”
“This is our second year doing it.”
“When do you go on tour next?”
“The US leg is in about a month. A dozen cities. Then we have a small European tour a few months after that.”
“Twelve cities in a row?”
“Yes.”
“That must be so hectic. Is it nonstop?”
“Pretty much. Sometimes you get a day or two in between, but I much prefer it that way. I would rather get it over with and have a chunk of time to myself again.”
I could practically see the fears swirling around in her head, visions of girls in tour buses, bras being flung everywhere. Booze spilling. Music blaring. Cocaine snorting. Her fear was palpable.
“As crazy as my life can be at times,” I said, “there are lulls . . . weeks at a time where I can go away, do what I please. Things are busy now with recording the new album, but once that’s done and the tour is over, things will calm down a bit.”
That statement was an attempt to try to convince her that my life did contain some small periods of “normalcy.”
“What will you do when you get home, Luca?”
She sighed as if the answer was daunting. “I plan to get started on the book I daydreamed about on the ride here.”
“Do you have to turn it in by a certain time?”
“No. Because I’m way ahead of my deadline, I have lots of wiggle room. I stick to a schedule, but it’s not the end of the world if it changes a bit.”
“That’s brilliant. Tell me about your newest character. What’s his or her deal?”
“Well . . . he’s British.”
“Oh yeah?” I winked. “Inspired by anyone in particular?”
“Well, I’d be lying if I said my interactions with you didn’t influence that decision. But you’re not a serial killer. And he is. So there’s that. That’s the main difference.”
I shrugged. “Details . . .”
We got a good laugh at that, and apparently it faded into my staring at her as I often did, which prompted her to ask, “What?”
“Nothing. Sometimes I just still can’t believe I get to look into your eyes. There’s not one time I’ve looked into them that I haven’t thought about how lucky I am to be able to do that.”
Luca blushed, and it was beautiful, really. I hoped that someday I could see her do that very thing while our bodies were connected as much as our souls always seemed to be.
The evening so far had gone off without a hitch. And I should’ve known that was too good to be true. Because after dinner, when we exited the supposed private door to head to our waiting car, a rush of flashes greeted us. A few paparazzi had been camped out waiting for us to exit. Apparently somewhere beneath the smiles of the people who had served us tonight, there was a mole.
Luca’s big, beautiful eyes were filled with confusion.
Never in my entire career had I ever lost it with the paparazzi—until now.
“Back the fuck off,” I shouted. “It’s okay when I’m alone, but this is not cool! She didn’t ask for this.”
Their questions all seemed to blend together.
“Is she your girlfriend, Cole?”
Flash.
Flash.
Flash.
“What’s her name?”
Flash.
Flash.
“How’s the new album coming?”
Flash.
Flash.
Flash.
I wrapped both my arms around Luca protectively. Thankfully, the car was right there, and we didn’t have to wait for it.
After we got inside and I closed the door, it became eerily quiet.
I misdirected my anger toward the driver. “Why didn’t you warn me they were out here?”
“I tried to call your phone, sir. There was no answer.”
I checked my phone. There were no missed calls.
What the fuck?
I didn’t know what had happened, whether he had dialed the wrong number or what. That didn’t matter.
“Take us home, please,” I told him.
I had one job. One job. That was to give Luca a normal night out without interference. I should’ve known better.
I pulled her close. “Are you alright?”
“It happened so fast, yeah. I didn’t have much of a chance to react.”