Текст книги "Fade to Red"
Автор книги: Willow Aster
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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 16 страниц)
This time the silence was painful. It dragged on and on until he stood up and looked down at her. She stared up at him and was unable to look away. She tried to speak a few times, but couldn’t.
He pulled her up and they stood inches apart. They’d stood this way so many times before. Every night they’d touched more than this onstage, but now it was more intimate than it had ever been. She reached up and touched his hair, his ear, his cheek. His breath caught and he leaned into her hand. Her eyes closed as she traced his nose and his lips.
“I think maybe you’ve always had a chance with me,” she whispered.
Her eyes were still closed when he kissed her. Their lips had barely locked when her stomach dropped out. Her tongue touched his bottom lip, making him squeeze her tighter against him. Slow and deliberate, he teased just under her top lip until she gripped the back of his head and drew him in deeper.
Nothing felt close enough. She couldn’t tell if he was trembling or if it was just her. He fisted her hair, pulling her back to look at him, and when she did, he stalked forward and pinned her against the wall. His eyes looked wild, the color undefined, but the intensity made her whole body feel like lead. He lifted her up and wrapped her legs around him, his hands squeezing her thighs, but not going past that point.
The restraint was making her crazy. He kissed along her jaw and down her neck. She arched her back and he pulled away again, cursing under his breath. His eyes searched hers.
“I’ve had the hardest time reading your signals,” he said in a raspy voice.
“I won’t play games if you won’t, Beckham,” she whispered. She felt reckless and couldn’t bother caring at the moment. “What do you want?”
“I haven’t been playing games. I want you. Remember? I said I want everything.”
They stared at each other for a moment before crashing into each other again, holding nothing back.
A faint knock on the bus door got louder and louder.
“I’m not answering it,” he whispered. “Let’s pretend we aren’t here.” He carried her toward the back room. His hands gripped her bottom as he lifted her higher and he squeezed. “Ahhh. Fuck me. I’ve been dying to do this for months.” He squeezed her cheeks harder. “You have the best a-”
The knocking got louder.
“Ignore it,” he whispered.
“You should see who it is.”
He growled and set her down, bending to level with her eyes. “I’m busy.”
She crinkled her nose and laughed, backing up. He advanced, intent and steady, ready to pounce.
When she reached the door to his bedroom and stepped in, he put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around, her back to his chest. A mirror faced them and he looked at her in the mirror before moving her shirt aside and kissing down her neck and shoulder. He glanced up and saw her watching him and smiled, his tongue softly tracing where his lips had been.
Her eyes closed and she leaned her head back onto his chest. His hands went under her shirt, igniting her skin.
“Roxie,” he whispered, his fingers tickling her stomach.
She opened her eyes and he was still watching her in the mirror. He unbuttoned a button on her shirt, and another, and all of them until her breath was sucked dry. With a flick of his hand, her shirt was on the floor and her chest fell with each exhale.
“I’ve been waiting a lifetime for you, Roxie Taylor,” he said softly.
She reached up and unclasped her bra and turned around.
“You can’t possibly know how beautiful you are.” His voice was hoarse.
He picked her up again, burying his face in her breasts, and kicked the door shut behind him. She leaned up on both elbows when he laid her on the bed. He stood over her.
“I can’t move,” he said. “You’re too much to take in, lying there on my bed.”
“Don’t make me wait,” she whispered.
He jumped into action, tossing his clothes on the floor while her eyes grew round.
“You sure about that?” He pointed down, half-embarrassed and half-brazen. “You called it my weapon before—but seeing you naked makes me more than a little dangerous.”
She gulped. “Please.”
He was over her in no time, bracing his hands on either side of her shoulders. As he was about to slowly sink into her, she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him all the way in. He closed his eyes and stayed completely still.
“You’re full of surprises, Roxie Taylor,” he finally said.
“I’m an all or nothin’ kind of a girl,” she said between jagged breaths.
She swiveled her hips and he groaned.
He pulled out and plunged into her. And again, deeper. She trembled and gasped when he went even deeper. Her eyes closed and she shook her head back and forth on the pillow. When she opened her eyes, his eyes were still on her as he drove into her again and again. Faster.
“Give it to me, Rox. I want it all.”
He put her legs on his shoulder to go even deeper and she felt it in every part of her body when they both dove headlong over the edge.
Hours later, he was apologizing for how small the shower in the bus was.
“Well, it’s not built for two,” Roxie teased.
“Come here then, I’ll just crawl back inside you and we’ll have more room.”
She splashed him with water and laughed. “I need time to recover. You wore me out that last time.”
He kissed the tip of her nose, looking at her with what she could only perceive as devotion. I must be dreaming.
“My poor girl. Let me get you to bed.”
She got out of the shower and turned to see if he was getting out. He was right behind her, his mouth hanging open, staring at her backside.
“Sorry, it’s going to take forever for me to get used to seeing you naked. You are exquisite, Rox—hey! Don’t cover up that work of art.” He scowled at her and pulled the towel back down. His smile took over his face again. “There…”
She snatched the towel back and lifted an eyebrow. “I’m cold.”
“I have just the thing for that … it’ll take care of the ache I left inside you. You won’t even have to move,” he whispered. “Come here.”
He pulled her back to the bedroom and worshipped her body with his mouth and tongue and fingers until she was crying his name again and again and finally begging for him to stop.
Her eyes were still closed when his hands ran lightly over her hip. She looked at him over her shoulder and smiled.
“I thought I was dreaming,” he said.
“I think we both were.”
“This feels awfully real.” He turned her over to face him and leaned over her. He sank into her, an inch at a time. She closed her eyes and arched into him.
“It does,” she agreed.
There was a knock on the bus door. It sounded distant at first and then turned into pounding.
“Shit.”
“They’re serious this time,” Roxie said.
“I guess I can’t ignore them forever.”
She shook her head. He pushed into her one more time and kissed her. Then he pulled out.
“I’m bloody murdering whoever this is,” he muttered. “Don’t forget where we were.”
She nodded, wide-eyed, unable to tear her eyes from him. His body was so beautiful. She didn’t know another word for it. She wanted time to just stare at him. He threw on his clothes and closed the bedroom door behind him. She sat on the bed, trying to catch her breath.
Anthony’s voice carried through the bus, but she couldn’t tell what he was saying. He didn’t sound happy, but it was hard to tell with him sometimes. He acted way more aggravated than he ever was. Beckham’s voice rose too, and she heard her name. Roxie stood up and walked to the door to see if she could hear anything else. She was about to go out there and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She looked like she’d been thoroughly sexed up.
Exactly, she thought, and giggled. She heard her name again, this time closer. She threw her clothes on and sat on the bed, putting her head in her hands. This couldn’t be good.
There was a quick rap on the door and Beckham opened it. “Can you come out here? I want you to hear this.”
He took her hand and walked her out to the couches. Anthony stood with his hands on his hips and glared at both of them.
Beckham motioned to Anthony. “He doesn’t think this looks good—you staying on the bus with me—and doesn’t want tension with the other dancers. No ‘preferential treatment’ allowed on his clock. And I want you both to know … I don’t give a shit whether anyone cares or not.” He kissed her hand and his grin was mischievous and cocky and made her heart tumble over itself. “I do prefer you over anyone else I’ve ever met in my life and I don’t care who knows it. If I had my way, you’d be on the bus with me the rest of the tour and move in with me afterward.”
Roxie’s mouth dropped and Anthony squealed. She looked at Anthony and he was pressing his lips together, trying to look mad and not too excited at the same time.
Beckham wasn’t finished.
“In fact, would you please stay? We can work it out with everyone. They’ll understand. I need time with you, Roxie.” He leaned down and kissed her neck and she jumped.
She took a deep breath and a step back from Beckham, dropping her hand from his. “I-I should go … Anthony’s right. I don’t want to make anyone u-”
His smile fell. “Think about it? Sierra can be on here with us too. Please. No games, right?” He leaned in and put his hands on her face, looking in her eyes. “I’m afraid if you go out that door, I’ll lose you again … I don’t want any more barriers.” He backed up and put his hands on his head. “God, I sound like a frickin’ wuss. But I don’t care! We finally got somewhere!” he yelled. Quieter, he said in her ear, “I’ve never used the words ‘made love’ in my life, before you, but that’s exactly what I did with you.”
Roxie’s heart hummed, but she glanced at Anthony who looked about ready to burst into dance right there on the bus. She took a step away from Beckham.
“I’m not going anywhere—well, except back to my bus, but … that’s not what I meant. Uh,” she laughed awkwardly, “let me get used to the idea of not hating you.” She gave a wobbly smile. “We should try taking things a little slower. We seem to have the sex figured out.” Her face grew warm, but she ignored it and went to stand by Anthony.
Beckham pressed his lips together and looked down. “If that’s what you want, okay, but … we don’t need to go slow for me, Roxie. Just so we’re clear. I know what I want.”
Anthony clapped his hands together. “Well, this was really fun. AND informative. I think you’re making the right call, Rox.” He winked at her. “But let me just be the first to say,” he clasped both of their arms, “you guys will make the prettiest babies.”
“Oh my God!” Roxie groaned. “You’re both crazy.”
Beckham just raised an eyebrow and smiled.
The whole clan was hanging out when Roxie got on the bus. Justin did a cat call and Vanessa laughed, hitting him in the arm.
“Someone had a good night,” Brad said wistfully.
“So did you,” Shelton muttered.
“Totally,” Brad answered. “But look at her. She’s all sparkly.”
Brooke’s arms were folded and she didn’t say a word.
“Hi!” Roxie gave a general wave.
“Details!” Vanessa demanded.
“We talked.” Roxie shrugged. “Had some things to clear up…”
“Oh please. You can’t tell us you only talked!” Shelton yelled. “Take a look in the mirror, honey!”
The guys laughed and Vanessa shushed them. “Let her talk.”
“That’s all…” Roxie said. “What did I miss?”
Brad looked like he wanted to kill her for not spilling more dirt. Vanessa just looked determined.
Roxie walked back to her bunk before anyone else could say anything. She crawled in the dark and felt something all over her mattress. Flipping the little light switch on, she looked around. Little strips of material were everywhere. She opened the curtain so she could see better. Her blanket from home had been cut into tiny strips. It was the blanket she and Leo always cuddled under to watch movies together. The books that she kept by her pillow were shredded.
Just like that, her mood tipped upside down. Tears filled her eyes and she hit the wall with her fist. She grabbed a handful of material and paper and walked back to where they were still discussing whether she’d slept with Beckham or not.
“Who did this?” she demanded.
All eyes turned in her direction.
“What are you talking about?” Shelton asked.
“Who destroyed my blanket and books?” Roxie shouted.
Vanessa stood up. “Show me. What happened?”
Everyone walked back to the bunk and gasped when they saw it.
“Did you do this, Brooke?” Roxie got in Brooke’s face. “You did, didn’t you!”
“No! Get out of my face. Why would I do that?”
“You’re the only one who has it out for me!” Roxie yelled.
Brad took her arm. “Let’s get Anthony and Beckham and figure this out. Come on.”
“I don’t want to waste Anthony and Beckham’s time if you’re not going to tell the truth,” Roxie said quietly to Brooke.
“There’s no way you can think I did any of that,” Brooke whispered, her lip trembling and then settling into a sneer. “And certainly no way you can prove it.”
Everyone looked at Brooke then and it was silent for a beat.
“Shit,” Shelton muttered.
Roxie moved so fast, Brad couldn’t stop her. She shoved Brooke against the wall and said, “You leave me and my things alone. Got it?”
“I. Didn’t. Do. It,” Brooke said. And then louder, “But someone sure does hate you…” She started smiling and then laughed until tears were running down her face.
Roxie’s whole body shook. She let Brooke go and walked off the bus. Johnny was standing outside, guarding her door.
“Let’s go find a good deli, Johnny. I need to be around someone normal.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Hanging out with Johnny helped. He was a nice guy, nothing too intense or deep, but very pleasant. Exactly what she needed after experiencing every emotion possible in the last 24 hours. After they ate, she sat outside and Skyped Leo and they talked for a couple of hours. She didn’t know what she’d do if she couldn’t see him every day like this, even though it sucked that it was through a screen a lot of the time. His visits helped more, but Skyping helped them get by. So far they hadn’t gone more than a week without seeing each other. Even though it was expensive with all the plane tickets, it was completely worth it.
When she got to hair and makeup, her normal girl, Suzanne, seemed to realize she needed a boost and did a cute braid in her up-do. Roxie loved it. Tracy, the makeup artist that usually did Roxie’s makeup, was out sick, so the new girl, Coco, took over. She was a little heavy handed, but when she was done, Roxie had to admit that the crimson lipstick totally matched the mood she was in.
Beckham was pacing the bus when Sierra got on.
“I don’t know whether the pacing is a good sign or not,” she said.
“Well, she left, so, obviously not a great sign, but,” he bit his lip and beamed at her, “we did have a great night.”
Sierra made a gagging noise. “TMI, little brother, TMI!”
“No, not what I meant! Well, that too, but it was so much more than that. I feel better than I have … ever. We talked. A lot. I know why she’s been so angry all this time. I deserved every ounce of it, but … it was a perfect night.”
“When did you become such a girl?” Sierra laughed.
He stood still. “I know. I’m making myself nauseated, but I don’t even give a fuck.” He looked at her and laughed. “I think I could love her, Sierra.”
She dropped her bag on the floor. “Really? Isn’t it a bit soon for that? You’ve had one good night with her and love?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t know. It doesn’t feel sudden. She’s invaded my brain for nearly four months now. I’ve never felt this, that’s all I know.”
Sierra wrapped her arms around him. “I’m so happy for you, Beck. I really am.”
“I want to have Mom fly in—maybe when we’re in Atlanta or New Orleans—so she can meet her.”
“You’ve never had Mom meet a girlfriend. Wait—is she your girlfriend?”
He hit her over the head with a folded up magazine.
“Oh yeah, maybe you are finally growing up,” Sierra snorted.
He rolled his eyes at her. “I know. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“You’re the one who’s all ‘I could love her’ and blah-de-blah!” Sierra laughed. “Prepare Mom, so she doesn’t pass out from the shock…”
He bopped her over the head with a banana.
“Ow! Why do I keep getting hurt over this relationship? Use a pillow next time, dammit!”
He resisted texting Roxie all afternoon. He was afraid he might have already scared her off. He’d lost his mind since the moment he met her. Well—oh God, he couldn’t believe how he’d treated her before. Just further proof that getting clean was the best thing he’d ever done. He’d been a complete asshole. The fact that she was even considering giving him another chance was unbelievable. He had so much to make up for and couldn’t wait to start.
He talked to his mom but didn’t tell her about Roxie. He’d wait and surprise her, despite what Sierra said. He bought a ticket for her to meet them in Atlanta in a few days. He showered and did vocal exercises while he shaved. Maybe Roxie would stay with him at least part of the drive tonight. They had a long trek to Tampa and she didn’t have to stay the whole night if that made her uncomfortable.
It only took one touch, and her stiff posture let him know they’d lost ground. Before last night, she’d begun to melt into his touch. There was no melting tonight. When her eyes met his, it was confirmed. His voice faltered and he missed a beat. Scrambling for control, he held his mic out to the crowd and let them sing a few bars of his song while he looked at Roxie. She wouldn’t look at him.
He wanted to throw her over his shoulder and kiss some sense into her, but he threw his frustration into the music instead. She matched his aggression, and it was hot as hell.
As soon as they’d done their final encore, he whispered in her ear. “I’m not giving up. You’re coming with me tonight.”
“No, I’m not,” she whispered back to him.
And then she surprised him. “Anthony was right,” she said over her shoulder as she walked away.
What the hell did you mean by that? He texted her in the middle of the night, unable to stop thinking about her. He was startled when she answered right away.
I need to keep the peace on the bus. And it was all going so fast anyway.
And a minute later: I’m still not sure about you, Beckham.
He cursed and continued tossing and turning all night long.
The next day was torturous. They drove all day and didn’t arrive in Tampa until late that evening. He ran along the beach at midnight and got up with the sunrise, running until the stitch in his side wouldn’t let up. He was so distracted he ran into another jogger and nearly knocked her over. She never even said a word when he apologized. Hopefully she wouldn’t show up later in the media, looking for money to exploit his absentmindedness.
He hadn’t texted Roxie again. He didn’t know what to say. He was snappy with Sierra that afternoon and she told him to go run again. He would have if it hadn’t been time for dinner.
Nate called as he was leaving to eat.
“Have you seen the latest pictures?” he asked.
“No—where?”
“I emailed them to you. Hang on, I’ll text it real quick.”
When Beckham’s phone buzzed, he pulled back and opened the picture. It was a little blurry, but it looked like him dancing … a long time ago.
“What is this?”
“Recognize the girl you’re with?”
He looked at the picture again and to the left of him, her eyes staring up at him, was Roxie.
“Shit.”
“Yeah.”
“Is this news to you?” Nate asked.
“No, she told me about it the other night … I didn’t remember her.”
“These are the things you’re supposed to tell me, Beckham, so I can do damage control. The press is running with this. I hope you really like this girl, because the media will either have you married in about two minutes or they will demolish her.”
“I do,” Beckham said. “I really like her.”
“Okay, well, I’m gonna have another talk with Johnny and Al to make sure they’re on top of her—you know not everyone will be excited about this.”
“I know. Thanks, Nate.”
Beckham heard him before he saw him. That little voice sounded so familiar. He rounded the corner of his bus, rushing to get inside the auditorium on time.
“Beckham!” the little boy called. He dropped the hand of the girl he was with and ran over to Beckham.
The girl waved shyly at Beckham but stayed back.
“Mavid!”
Leo’s head fell back and he laughed. “You’re so funny.”
That lisp. It slayed Beckham. “So great to see you, little dude. What are you doing here?” He bent down and gave him a fist bump.
“Visiting my mom.”
“Awesome. I haven’t seen your mom since tryouts! Where has she been hiding? Are you having fun?”
“Yeah, just got here, but we went to the beach once already.”
“Well, that’s great.”
“And you see my mom every-”
Howie put his hand on Beckham’s shoulder and cleared his throat. “Sorry to interrupt, but it’s time.” A golf cart rolled up to Beckham.
“Sorry, buddy, I gotta get to the show. You watchin’ tonight?”
“Whatever she says.” He pointed a thumb behind his shoulder and grinned.
“Gotcha. Well, I’d love to see you again before you go. You should come visit me on the bus…”
“Yethhh!” Leo shook his fist up and down and ran off, yelling, “Bye, Beck!”
Beckham smiled all the way to the back entrance. He jumped off the cart and ran inside, waving to the fans who were screaming on the sidelines.
Suzanne hurriedly put product in his hair and tamed the waves. Someone new powdered his nose. She grinned at him and got to work.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“Coco—Tracy took a few days off.”
He glanced down and tried to hold still and not sneeze while she passed the makeup brush over his face. She had on a pair of cowboy boots that were an unusual shade of blue.
“Cool boots.” He held still but his eyes studied her. “You remind me of someone…”
She smiled and shrugged. “I hear Zooey Deschanel sometimes.”
He laughed. “That’s it—you really do look like her! It’s a compliment. She’s a nice girl.”
Anthony came through, clapping his hands. “Move it, Beck. They’re gonna be bitter pretty soon if you don’t get out there.”
“Thanks, girls. I’m gonna trust that you made me look good in less than five minutes.” He made a face and ran toward the stage.
Roxie was smiling tonight. Not at him necessarily, but it was apparent she was happier than the last time he’d seen her. He’d take it. Either way, whether she wanted him or not, they were scorching together onstage. He never wanted to look away. She turned him inside out. It was all he could do to focus on the words of the songs. He lived for every moment he could touch her again.
Backstage, he bypassed the VIPs and ran to catch up with her before she went to her bus.
“Tonight, Roxie. Come with me. Let’s have dinner … or walk on the beach? We have a short drive, so I don’t think we’ll be leaving until later.”
“I have family here … I think we’re gonna drive on to Miami and stay in a hotel tonight.”
“I’d love to meet your family…”
She nodded. “Yeah, you will. I still need to tell you all about them.” She looked over his shoulder and cringed. “You better go though—a riot’s starting back there with beautiful, impatient women…”
He leaned over and kissed her quickly on the cheek and then the top of her hand before he went to autograph CDs and cleavage and shirts. He drew the line at underwear. Never again.
Ian borrowed a car that morning, so they could go swim in Roxie’s hotel pool. It felt like summer in Miami—January be damned—and he wanted to take advantage of it. Donny called right before they left. They usually spoke at least once a week, with Ian wanting to hear everything the doctors were saying, and Donny only wanting to talk about the tour. But this morning he sounded happier than he had in a long time. He was done with chemo, and his doctors couldn’t believe he was doing so well. Donny said he had a whole new outlook on life, and that it was worth it to be sick, to feel this grateful for life now.
After they hung up, the conversation kept playing back in Ian’s mind. He loved Donny and hoped he had a lot of years left. But he didn’t ever want to get so detached from living that it took nearly dying to see what he had. The thought seemed foreign now—he knew how great his life was and didn’t think the gratefulness would ever fade, but … it happened all the time. Even people who seemed to have it all struggled with complacency, boredom … discontentment. What kept passion alive?
Water splashed in his face and he was glad for the distraction. He didn’t need to get all emo on their morning off. He’d keep thinking about it though and maybe a song would come out of it, maybe some answers. He looked down at his little girl and thought his love for her would explode right out of his chest. She loved the water. He held her back against his chest and her little feet went crazy, kicking. Leo jumped in the pool and swam up to him, smiling at Journey. The little boy was such a nice kid, and he was gentle with Journey, so that made Ian like him even more.
Sparrow jumped into the pool and wrapped her arms around his back.
“You okay?” she asked. “You’re so quiet today.”
“Just thinking. Talking to Donny got my mind going about some things.”
He turned around to face her and pulled her close. Her legs still fit around his waist with Journey between them.
“Do I tell you enough how this life with you is the best gift I’ve ever been given?” he asked, reaching out to touch her face.
“Every day.”
Sparrow stretched out on a lounger next to Chloe. Roxie and Leo played in the pool for a while and then went to get a snack at the vending machine. When they came back, Leo got back in the pool and Roxie stayed by Sparrow and Chloe. They were talking in hushed voices and laughing a lot, which made Ian suspect they were discussing sex. Sparrow claimed he thought everything was about sex, though. Not necessarily true …not everything. He’d done a lot of reflecting today without sex being in the forefront of his mind. Granted, keeping passion alive did involve sex too, but … okay, maybe everything did go back to sex. But, really, what was so wrong with that?
Leo did a huge jump in the pool and Ian called out: “Solid 7!” Journey laughed so hard she got the hiccups. “Journey thinks that should’ve been an 8.”
Leo wanted to make her laugh again, so the game began. Ian and Journey were the judges; Ian with a score between one and ten, and Journey with how loud she cackled. She thought Leo was the funniest human she’d ever seen.
They’d met Chloe and Leo once before, but Roxie usually didn’t come around when he was in town. Ian didn’t blame her. He’d want his family all to himself too. Sparrow always spent extra time with Roxie when Leo went back home. She was lost without her boy.
The girls sat up and Roxie jumped off the lounger. He and Leo paused the game to see what was going on.
“I forgot my outfit for tonight!” she yelled. “I’ll run over there now, so I’ll have plenty of time to eat and get ready. Wanna ride with me, Leo, or stay in the pool?”
“Stay in the pool!”
“Of course.” She smiled and blew him a kiss. “I won’t be long!”
She hadn’t been gone five minutes when a redhead walked into the pool area and asked Sparrow if Roxie was still there. She stopped in mid-sentence when she saw Ian and he regretted not going underwater when he saw her come in the gate. She looked like a vulture ready to strike. She stepped closer to the pool and looked down at him.
“Ian Sterling? How did I get so lucky?” She flashed teeth and put a hand on her hip. “Roxie Taylor sure gets around.”
“Not sure what you’re implying. I’m here with my family,” he said.
Leo popped up beside him.
“Hey, Leo, would you please sit with the girls for a minute?” Ian asked.
“And then I can get back in the pool?”
“Of course.”
Leo swam to the ledge and climbed out.
“And you are?” Ian looked at the girl.
“Mirielle Wethers, with Rolling Stone. I’ve been leaving messages for you for weeks. Looks like I just needed to find Roxie to find you.” She smirked and stepped into the shade.
“Ah, Mirielle, you need to stop with the Roxie innuendos. Beckham told me about you and if I’d wished to speak to you, I would’ve called you back. That’s how that works.” He looked over his shoulder to Sparrow. “Hey, baby, could you come here, please?”
Sparrow shifted her long legs off the lounger. He got out of the pool and enjoyed watching her walk toward him.
He looked at Mirielle, who wasn’t bothering to hide her annoyance. “This is my wife, Sparrow. If you say anything about me, it should be that I love my wife. We’re having a little time off before the show tonight, and I’m asking you to leave. Now.”
Her eyes flashed and she stepped closer. “I just want-”
“No.” He handed Journey to Sparrow. “Call Will,” he said under his breath.
Sparrow walked away with the baby and called Will. He’d taken a break right before Mirielle came, but Ian knew he wasn’t far. In moments, Will was walking toward them.
“Quit giving Rolling Stone a bad name—we know you don’t work for them anymore.” Ian turned and said over his shoulder: “This is Will—he’ll make sure you get to your car safely.”
He put a towel around his neck and waited until Mirielle was gone before getting back into the pool.
Roxie pounded on Beckham’s door.
“Hey! Come in!” He was smiling until he got a good look at her face. “What’s going on?”
He took her hand and led her up the steps. She was clutching something in one hand, but held onto him with the other.
“Hey, you’re shaking. What happened?”
“I went to wardrobe just now—I meant to grab my first dress last night, so I could hang out at the hotel as long as possible, and-” She held up her dress.
It looked like a blowtorch had been taken to it. Completely charred. Beckham barely touched it and material crackled to the ground.
“What the hell?” His eyes were huge.
“All of my outfits are like this. Only mine. After the other night, when I stayed with you … my blanket and all my books were cut up into little pieces. I didn’t-”
“What? Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded.
“I didn’t want to bring you into it. I hoped it was just a pointless stunt and nothing serious.” A tear fell down her cheek and she angrily swiped it away.
“Hey, come here.” He hugged her close then pulled back just enough to study her face. “This involves me, whatever happens with you. I care about you and want to make sure you’re always safe. I can’t do that if you keep me in the dark. Don’t shut me out. Okay?”








