The Rocker's Muse

He held up his hand. “Guilty…”

“Why would it matter if I were attracted to you?”

“You’re dodging the question.” He inched closer, causing the hairs on my arms to prickle.

I felt ready to burst. “Of course I’m attracted to you. So is half the world. You’re extremely handsome. But that doesn’t mean I should do anything about it.”

Then I looked down and noticed something for the first time. What the hell?

“Why do you have my scrunchie around your wrist?”

CHAPTER 10

TRISTAN

Fuck.

What the hell was I thinking?

I’d forgotten to take this off earlier. Stressed to the max about the Chicago show, I’d been messing with this damn scrunchie a lot, stretching and twirling it every which way. As much as I had orchestrated some of what went down tonight, the scrunchie was a total slip-up on my part.

“It’s yours,” I admitted, as if there were any doubt.

She stared down at it. “I know. But how did you get it?”

“I walked away with it accidentally the night I visited you on the bus.”

“Why are you wearing it around your wrist? Your hair isn’t long enough to warrant that.”

I laughed, never imagining she’d consider I was using it for my hair. “I like to twist it around my fingers. Pull on it. It’s a nervous habit.”

“You’ve been corrupting my poor hair accessory all this time without my knowledge?”

Better than other things I’ve dreamed about corrupting lately. “Once again, guilty.” I looked down at it. “Honestly I didn’t realize I had it around my wrist.”

“Well…you can keep it if you enjoy it that much.” She shook her head. “Weird as it may be.”

“Thanks. But let’s get back to the subject of you being attracted to me.”

“Let’s not. Let’s instead ask what’s up with your alleged allergies. You don’t seem stuffy.”

I loved that she was calling me out. “My eyes were watering earlier,” I lied. “I wanted to take something as a precaution. Sometimes when I stay in hotels, my allergies act up. Not sure if it’s something in the cleaning shit they use or what…”

Except in this case, it was an excuse to see you.

I’d requested the meds knowing damn well they’d ask Emily to deliver them. Except after I texted Stephen, I felt really damn guilty about it. I knew she was out with Kieran and hadn’t been sure whether she was back yet. But maybe I’d wanted to interrupt. That made me a piece of shit. Kieran was Atticus’s nephew, for Christ’s sake. What kind of man tries to disrupt the date of a kid who looks up to him? But I was fucking jealous. It was the first time in my life I’d felt this way. And it would’ve been nice if the object of said jealousy wasn’t a girl practically young enough to be my daughter.

“Interesting how your allergies seem to have disappeared.” She crossed her arms.

It would’ve served me right if they’d sent someone else to deliver the meds instead of Emily. In the midst of waiting for her to show up, a groupie named Angel came to my suite. Atticus had given her the code and sent her upstairs. He did shit like that all the time. In the past, it used to be a welcome surprise. But lately, I found it annoying.

Yet I’d decided to let things unfold with Angel, hoping Emily would walk in on us. Not because I wanted to freak Emily out, and believe it or not—not because I liked the idea of her watching, though that was an unexpected surprise. I’d let her walk in on me with Angel for her own good, my way of warning her away from me.

But I hadn’t accounted for her standing in the doorway and watching. I’d only let Angel give me a lap dance, but when Emily didn’t leave, the whole thing became about putting on a show for her. I was a sick fuck that Emily watching had turned me on so much. When she’d run away, though, I worried I’d upset her.

And now here we were. Stuck, thanks to me.

“Are you going to move this elevator?” she asked again.