Date With A Rockstar (29 page)

“This is it.” He pulls to a stop in front of a skeletal steel building. Sections of metal and glass reflect the ambient light trapped in gray clouds. He climbs out of the car first and I pat the door, trying to find the touch panel that will release me. He opens the door
from the outside before I can figure it out. God, I hope he doesn't think I was waiting, expecting him to open the door for me. Rain drips off his nose as he offers me his hand climbing out. My tote bag drips water down the side of my leg. So much for dry clothes. We hustle to the canopy overhanging the front entrance of the building. The air swirling around me feels aggressive.

“I wonder if the hurricane will spark tornados?” I ask.

“I think we're safe in this area.”

I nod. Derek comes out of the building and tips his head up at the sky. “Hey, Monet, I, uh, watched the competition. Bummer about your dad.” He jogs off to the idling car and takes Jeremy's place behind the navigation panel, presumably to bring the car underground to park.
Bummer, yeah, that about covers it.

I shiver as the wind whips up my skirt. The rain slides down the center of my spine. “Let's get you inside.” Jeremy's hand is burning hot when he laces his fingers with mine. He scans his hand and then retina at the door. High security. Then he scans in again at the elevator. “I live on the top floor,” he explains as the minutes pass and the door doesn't ding. “Hundredth floor.”

“Does Derek live with you?”

“He has an apartment down the hall, with cameras that monitor the entrance to mine. Another one of my guards lives with him, so they can switch shifts.”

I bite my lip, unsure of what to say. How weird to be important enough to need protection. Even weirder that the one point of contact between our two hands heats up my whole body. I have these few hours with Jeremy. If they're my last, I'm going to enjoy them. Now that I can afford the cure, I have a future. Jeremy was never a part of that. I lean into him.
Jeremy as a boyfriend was never part of the plan.
And now I'm lying
to myself in my own head. Ugh. Why do I always want more? I should be content.

He keeps hold of me. I feel like I might faint if he lets go. I nuzzle against his chest while he presses his palm against the door. The light turns green and the handle swings down. “Monet,” he mumbles softly. I look up into his face and his lips press into mine. Life floods back into my body from the point where our bodies touch. His kiss is hot and delicate.

He pushes the door open with his foot and we back into the apartment. He kisses down my neck and along my collarbone. “You're so cold. Let me find you dry clothes to change into.”

“No.” I drag my fingers through his hair, and he works his way back up my throat.

“You taste nice.”

I dissolve into the kiss. I don't want to remember anything else from this night—just the warmth of Jeremy's arms and the growing sensation of his lips. It doesn't matter if the world doesn't think I'm good enough. All that matters is that he wants me.

I want to say every slushy romantic thought that flits through my mind, but instead I channel the desire into our kiss. “I'll get those clothes,” Jeremy says. Though when he goes to pull away he's back in an instant, like I'm magnetic. I wish I didn't have the Fluxem sore. I glance at the bed, but there's no way I want him to see me naked. Not yet.

Jeremy's apartment is one big room. A thousand square feet, at least. There's a pile of dirty laundry next to the bed, which makes me smile. I take a step forward.

“Hold on. I'll find you something.” He runs his fingers through his hair and takes a deep breath. Drawers line the underside of his bed. I sit on the edge, sinking into the foam while he digs through the clothes. “Do you think these will fit?” He holds the sweatpants up in the
air. I recline slightly on the bed. My wet purple dress accentuates everything. He presses his lips tight.

“I think with the drawstring they'll be okay,” he says when I don't answer. He goes back to the drawer and I pull my hair forward, so that the dark strands frame my face. My chest pounds with anticipation. Then he stands up and hands me a concert sweatshirt.

I sigh. He's being a respectful gentleman. “I'll go change.” The bathroom is off to the side of the bedroom. His towels are forest green. I take one off the rack and squeeze the water out of my hair before peeling the dress off and hanging it on the bar. I slide my legs into the sweats and take a quick peek behind the shower curtain. His shampoo is Jaher. I repeat the name in my head. Maybe when all this is over I can buy his shampoo at home and remember how he smelled. I press my hands to my face. I don't want this to be our last date.

I finish getting dressed. Once I roll the pants at the top they only drag on the floor a few inches. The sweatshirt is warm and cuddly, but definitely not sexy.

I step out of the bathroom. He's sitting on the bed, but jumps to his feet when I come out. “Do you want to watch a movie?” he asks.

“Okay.”
Do not overthink it. Cheer the hell up.
We walk away from the bed to the other side of the room, where the TV is. Two sides of his apartment are glass and I press close, staring down. Cars on the street below appear no bigger than my thumb. Rain slams into the glass wall in sheets. I sit on the couch while Jeremy clicks through his digital library.

“When is the hurricane hitting?” I ask.

Jeremy straightens up and looks at the rain on the other side of the wall. “This is the leading edge of the storm. It'll probably get worse before it gets better.”

“I guess I should stay here tonight.”

He gulps. “Probably safest. What types of movies do you like? I have everything.”

“Tonight, I'll take anything that is as far away from reality TV as possible.”

“Skunk Fu Takes Tokyo?
”

I laugh. “Perfect.”

There's a thudding on the door. “Be right back. It's probably just Derek with the car keys.”

I turn on the couch so that I can watch him stride across the room. Perfect posture, hurried steps.

Derek drips water on the floor and holds up a paper. “This was in the mailbox. Mandatory evacuation notice.”

“No shit.” Jeremy takes the paper. “Is the building clearing out?”

“I stopped and asked the attendant, but he said only a few old ladies from the lower floors left.”

“What do you think, Monet, should we get out of here?”

“It's up to you guys. I'm not afraid of the storm.” Plus, I don't want to cut the date short.

Derek shrugs. “It's your call, man. But for your safety, we should probably get out of here.”

Jeremy looks at me. “We'll stay.”

Derek takes in our silent eye contact. “Okay, then. I'll be next door if you need me. Oh, wait. Is that the
Skunk Fu Tokyo
movie?”

“You are not watching a movie with me and my date.” Jeremy shoves him out the door.

“Goodbye, Monet,” Derek yells through the closing door.

Jeremy shakes his head and turns back to me. “Can I get you anything to eat?” he asks. “I have a cake. It's pretty good. I got it at this bakeshop down the street yesterday.”

“Sure,” I say since he obviously wants cake.

“Cool.” He comes back with two matching pewter plates and sinks down into the couch next to me. “This is delicious,” he says around a mouthful of yellow cake with coconut frosting. He rests one leg on the coffee table. I've never seen him in such a casual pose. I just want to climb on top of him.

“Pewter, huh? That's one of the few the government hasn't tried to reclaim.”

“I know, right? They're trying to squeeze money out of every corner of the world. Poor Brie. I swear the only reason they ever arrest anyone is tax evasion, and it's like a ransom demand. This other musician I know got busted for not reporting second party T-shirt sales.”

I nod. He's so in-tune with the world and everything that's important to me. If only our lives didn't keep us separate. I take my plate and eat my slice as the movie plays. He turns the volume down low so that we can talk. The whole set-up seems so normal. Not how I imagined rockstars to be at home, but then, he's always been that way with me.

He scrapes up the last bite. “Tell me about what happened to Praline.”

I describe what happened and he snuggles me against him as I talk. The movie finishes and I'm so warm and comfortable I just want to sleep. He kisses the top of my head and I close my eyes.

The pounding rain and wind wake me.

We're still in the same position. Jeremy's head rests on the back of the sofa. There's a tiny piece of coconut on his cheek. I wiggle out from under his arm to kiss the spot. He smiles and grumbles, stretching out his back. “I think we fell asleep,” I say.

He rubs his eyes and pulls me closer so that I'm straddling his lap. “Did I tell you that you're adorable in my clothes?”

I kiss his jaw. “You taste like coconut,” I say.

He massages my back with both hands.

“Uh, Jeremy, don't touch my back too much. That's where I have marks.”

“Oh, shit!” He leans back fast. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, I'm okay.”
Way to ruin the moment.
I run my tongue along his lips.

“You taste good, too,” he says. He relaxes against me. “But Monet, about Fluxem—”

I press my mouth against his. Fluxem is the last thing I want to think about right now. I have the money from my design and I'm almost as good as cured. Soon. I just have to forget about the marks enough to enjoy this. He deepens the kiss. I feel so safe and relaxed in his arms. And completely turned on. My knees tremble.
I want you.

I dip my hand under his T-shirt and over his abs, exploring each muscle. He groans against my chest and slips his hand under my sweatshirt. His hands trail up and down my belly. I'm tingling and shivering all over.

I kiss his neck and the stubble on his chin rubs my face. He drags me tight against his chest. The combination of his soft sweatshirt moving against my skin and his gentle fingertips makes me squirm.

“Monet,” he whispers. I lean back enough so that his hands can glide over my front. “I love the way you kiss,” he says.

I smile against his lips and draw back. His eyes open, staring into mine. “I think you're an amazing kisser, too.” I run my fingers through his hair, flipping the wave to the other side.

The wind whistles against the glass and the pounding rain sounds like my heart in my ears. He strips off his shirt. Being with him in his apartment, just us and no cameras, is the most perfect date ever.

The whistling grows louder. I wish I could turn the volume of the world down so that I could hear his contented sighs better.

I kiss his chest and run my tongue lightly over his skin. He smells like the shampoo from the bathroom. I can't believe I get to touch him. That it's just me here in his apartment.

The noise is so loud I pause and look up. He doesn't seem to hear anything. “Jeremy, is that—”

Boom!

A twenty-foot chunk of iron slams through the glass and spears the couch right next to me. Fluff from the cushions flies up in a swirl. Chunks of rust cover my borrowed sweats. I stare out the gaping hole in the window in front of us. Rain pours in sheets onto his carpeted floor.

I grip the edge of the couch and hoist myself to my feet. The wind tries to blow me back down. “What the hell is that thing?” I yell over the pounding. A siren blares on the street below.

The big iron rod is still attached to something outside of the window. Criss-crossing supports cover the sides. “A crane?” I yell to Jeremy.

He's on the floor, scrambling to get back on his feet. He flips the coffee table out of the way. There's a grating metal sound. The side of the couch snaps off.

Jeremy grabs my arm. “Get down!” he screams.

I drop to my knees, still trying to see the storm outside.

Derek bursts into the room. “Jeremy, over here! Hallway. No windows.”

Jeremy tries to pull me.

“Wait!” I yell back, but the rushing wind eats my words. “My pants are stuck.” I struggle to unhook the material from the rusted metal spear.

“Damn it! On the ground, now!” Derek screams as he runs toward us.

Jeremy rips me free. He stares back, frantic. Like I might blow away if he lets go of my arm. The other side of the glass wall is hanging on. Then there's a loud pop. We duck our heads. Jeremy's hand slides down my arm, grasping my hand.

Derek starts to crabwalk toward the door and we follow. Then the metal wrenches away from the couch and swings across the room. The crane slams into the other half of the window. Wind whips my hair back. I turn toward the noise.

“Shit.” I watch the glass shatter and come at me.

Jeremy pulls me against him.

I feel weird. “I think something hit me.”

“Oh, my God! Monet! Stay with me!” I hear him scream. His voice is muffled in my head, then everything gets dark.

I WAKE UP in the hospital. There's a pint of blood hanging above me and a tube in my arm. I pat my free hand over my body. Everything hurts. My skin pulls tight around my middle and I loosen my hospital gown with one hand and look down. A huge line stretches from under my breast across my stomach and down my hip. New fake skin holds me all together. Thank goodness I wasn't conscious when they put on that stuff.

“Oh good, you're awake.” The nurse stands by my bedside, monitoring the screen displaying my vitals.

“Is Jeremy okay?”

“He's fine. A gash on his forehead, but nothing too bad.”

I half expect him to be sitting in the empty chair in the corner of the room. I try to sit up a little to be sure he isn't. The nurse rests her hand on my shoulder. “He left a bag with a change of clothes for you. But don't even think about trying to move yet. You need to be very still for another day. New skin only works so well on a cut that long and deep. That glass just about cut you in half.”