ONE YEAR EARLIER
“Mmm,” Delilah sighs as I carefully roll out of her grasp, re-tucking the blanket around her breathtaking naked body.
I look out over the rustling trees as rain gently patters against the glass panes of the window next to us. Here, I can almost forget about the life that exists beyond the nest—the crazy publicity, the demands of my record label, and my asshole bandmates. God, how I wish I could stay here forever, snuggled up with her in our own perfect world.
Delilah stirs in her otherwise peaceful sleep.
“Rest,” I whisper, stroking her cheek.
I take a moment to admire her, relishing in the way her untamed curls are strewn over the pillow, how her full lips part with each breath. She’s perfect.
Her heat is ebbing. After two days of non-stop fucking and our bodies being locked together for hours on end, we’re both exhausted. Regardless, I’ve never been more content and satisfied. I never felt like I’ve truly belonged anywhere before… until I met her.
Stumbling upon her in the street was fate. It had to be. I was walking around campus after sneaking away from Valerie, Brad,and Drew who were both enjoying themselves far too much with female students on campus.
I tiptoe over to check my cell phone, groaning when I see there are over fifty messages and voicemails waiting.
I let Valerie know that I was taking a few days off but didn’t tell her where I am. The one good thing about the Grand Point Lodge is their discretion. I booked the penthouse a few weeks ago. After witnessing the carnage Brad and Drew caused during our last show, I refused to stay at the same hotel as the two of them again. I made the right choice. The thought of them being around Delilah makes my stomach churn. I was only meant to stay for one night, but I promised to pay the lodge five times their usual fee to extend my stay. In addition, they’ve provided everything I’ve asked for, including bountiful feasts delivered straight to our room whenever Delilah and I have come up for air.
DREW
Dude, WTF?!!!! You missed the private jet.
ME
I’ll join you later. Going offline for a few days. See you back in the city.
The concert at SVU was our last stop on this tour, so I don’t have anywhere else to be right now.
“James?” Delilah’s soft voice comes from behind me.
Since coming down from her unquenchable desire for my knot, she’s been more cognizant, having more questions for me. Maybe it’s selfish that I haven’t told her who I really am yet, but I’m enjoying her not knowing.
I stash my phone into my pocket, returning to her. “I’m right here.”
She’s pulled the blankets up to her chin, smiling coyly. “Coming to join me?”
“You need to eat,” I insist.
Her stomach rumbles loudly in agreement. “I guess I am a little hungry…”
“I’ll be right back.”
I pull out my cell as I head to the front desk, using the opportunity to send a text to Valerie, who is losing her shit. I can imagine her now—chain-smoking and ranting to anyone who’ll listen. Her biggest star going AWOL is not exactly a good look, but I’m entitled to a break. She’ll get over it.
After speaking to our personal butler, I come back to find Delilah wrapped up in my shirt, lounging across the sofa in the living room. There’s a record player on the sideboard, the vinyl spinning, playing old-school jazz.
“Everything sounds so much better on vinyl,” she says, her head swaying to the music. It’s the first time I’ve seen her out of the nest since we arrived. Her smile instantly quashes the storm raging inside me. She ogles the plate in my arms. “Is that apple pie?”
After being around her, I couldn’t resist requesting it. “More food is coming,” I reply. “But I couldn’t have you going hungry while we wait.” I take a seat next to her, handing her a spoon.
“How’re you feeling?” I put my hand on her forehead. Her temperature seems to be much lower than it was.
“Much better. Thank you.” She looks at her lap, pulling a blanket over her legs to cover them. Considering how intimate we’ve been, her sudden burst of shyness only makes her more adorable. “For everything.”
“You don’t need to thank me.”
“But, James…” She looks around, as if she’s only now taking in where we are. More questions are coming. I can feel it. They were inevitable, but I’m still not ready. “How can you even affordto stay somewhere like this? Do you have a trust fund? Are you in the mafia?”
