Sighing, I raise my face to the water and try to figure out what’s going on with me. It’s not like I’m in a bad mood. How could I be? I’ve had numerous orgasms already today. It’s more an unsettled feeling.
I grab the shampoo. This has to be because we’re in San Francisco. I wish I could skip tonight’s concert, snuggle in bed wearing one of his black T-shirts, and wait for him to come home.
Yet I can’t and I’m being ridiculous. Just because he hasn’t said what we’re doing next, doesn’t mean I should get weird. I hurry, washing and turning off the shower. I need to look fantastic, especially tonight. No clue why I feel this way, but I do.
RHYS
Past – Twenty-seven years old
San Francisco, California
I take a deep drag off my cigarette, barely registering that it’s raining. Leaning forward, I let the rain soak my head. Some asshole paparazzi is probably zooming in on me but fuck it—I need some air.
I look up at the sky. It’s gray and dark.
Angry clouds.
I haven’t gotten the phone call saying we’re postponing, so I assume this will let up. Not the first time I’ve gotten wet playing outside, but it always casts a strange unease over the band.
My phone vibrates, and my heart races so fast my temples pound.
Rafe: We might have to postpone until tomorrow. This fucking rain.
Me: Do you want me to wait here?
Rafe: No.
I pocket my phone and breathe out deeply, letting my heart rhythm return to normal. A woman I dated almost a year ago called Rafe yesterday demanding I pay her money. She claims she’s pregnant and that I’m the father. The chance that this is real is zero. This happens all the time, women saying they’re pregnant. It’s always some desperate groupie looking for a handout.
But this time, I have Gia. Something tells me this would not go over well.
Renee.
I shake my head. Can’t even remember her face. Nothing but a name. I’ve racked my brain trying to remember. I recall a Renee, but her face blends in with the faces of countless women I’ve fucked.
Taking a deep drag, I close my eyes and let the rain soothe me. If I had anything to worry about, Rafe would have found out. The fact that he hasn’t mentioned it and is concerned about the rain makes all the drama go away.
I open my eyes as a zigzag of lightning streaks across the sky. Maybe I need to buy a house. Living out of hotels is getting old. And now I have Gia to look after, care for, and we need a home base. Fuck, we can have houses all over the world for all I care.
I always see myself in Los Angeles. It’s home, and I need the warm weather, but can I deal with my mom? We can always buy in Malibu, or the Palisades. I’ll let Gia decide. I take one last drag of my cigarette and put the butt out in a potted plant.
Time to go. My cock is getting hard.
“Gia?” I look around, making sure I’m not forgetting anything. “With the rain, traffic might be shit, babe.”
“I’m ready.” I look up and freeze.
There she stands. My goddess. My heart aches at the fear that this thing we share can be ruined by any bad mistake. She sashays by me. Her vanilla perfume fills me, calms me as I watch her get her bag.
My eyes take in her body. Black skinny jeans and high-heeled boots showcase her long legs. Her see-through sweater leaves little to the imagination.
“You’re fucking stunning.” She smiles as she lifts her arms to pull her hair back in a low bun.
My hand goes to rub my burning heart.
Hunger.
Grabbing her, I pull her into my arms. She bats her long eyelashes at me. She’s got the smoky-eye makeup thing going on that makes the green of her eyes look like glittering emeralds. Her bag falls to the floor with a thud, and she wraps her hands around my neck.
“Have I told you that I really like you?” I say, my voice low.
She laughs. “You have.” She purses her red lips.
My nose dips to her neck. “Have I told you you’re my life?”
She leans back to look at me. “Kind of.”
I straighten and take her hand and put it on my chest. “Feel that?”
“Yes,” she whispers, her chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm.
“That’s my heart beating for you.” I have no idea why I’m doing this now. Maybe it’s because of the phone call earlier, or maybe it’s time.
“What’s wrong?” Her eyes search my face.
“I want to tell you.” I cup her face. “You need to know how I…” My phone interrupts with a loud buzz. She looks down.
“Ignore it,” I demand. “Fuck the rest of my world, Gia. I love you.” It’s raw and not smooth, but it’s the truth.