She didn’t say anything for several long seconds until, finally, she said, “I don’t want you to feel like you have to lie. Not to me.”
“I can’t. I won’t.”
He watched a play of thoughts cross her face, thoughts that shifted from the surprise she’d initially felt, to processing, and then, finally, to a point where it seemed that she was warring with herself.
“I want to be honest with you, too, but I don’t...” She paused, licked her lips, and he had to shove his hands deep into his pockets to keep from reaching for her. “I don’t have much experience with this kind of thing.” Finally, she lifted her gaze to his and held it. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you, too.”
If she were any other woman, he would have been kissing her already. He would have known how sweet she tasted. Would have finally gotten to hear—and drink in—her sweet gasps of pleasure.
Instead, it nearly killed him to say, “But we can’t.”
At the exact same moment that she said, “But we can’t.”
Perhaps their words echoing off each other’s should have broken the tension between them, but it didn’t. Not even close. Not when they both obviously still wanted the kiss just as much.
“My father—”
“—would kill me if I so much as touched one hair on your head.”
“It’s not you,” she said, as if she needed him to know that it wasn’t personal. “It’s what you do. He doesn’t think this is a very stable business. And he thinks that—” Her face flushed, and she didn’t finish her sentence.
But he could easily finish it for her. “He thinks all musicians sleep around.”
When she nodded, he realized he already needed to face the first test of always honest. A first test he wasn’t particularly proud of.
“I wasn’t the worst,” he said slowly, “but I wasn’t the best either. Not at first.” Not when he’d been young and stupid enough to want to take advantage of the fact that there were no limits. That absolutely everything he wanted could be his without having to try for it. “But I didn’t act that way for long.” Not when waking up next to one stranger after another had come up empty so quickly. And not when his parents had raised him better than that. They’d clearly known that he was sowing some wild oats, and they’d never come down on him for it, but he’d known they hadn’t been thrilled.
“You don’t have to explain things to me.”
But he did. Because he wanted her to respect him the way he respected her. “I want to. No lies, remember?”
She nodded. “No lies.” She took a deep breath, one that he knew was going to precede an admission of her own. “First of all, the truth is that my father isn’t the only one who assumed there was a stereotype of what a rock star’s life is like. How they think and act. But even though I haven’t known you that long, I don’t think you fit the stereotype at all. And also...” She scrunched up her face as if she really didn’t want to tell him anything more. “I was a huge fan of yours. In high school. Way back to when you put out your first demo. And I—” She was really flushing now, her eyes squeezing shut for a second before she said, “I’ve had a crush on you for just as long.”
When she opened her eyes, she was looking at him in that wary way he’d noticed she often looked at things. As if she didn’t yet know enough about them, hadn’t done enough analysis, to be totally sure that she could trust them to turn out okay.
Neither of them said anything for a while. They both just stared at each other as attraction pulsed hotter and higher than ever. She was clasping her hands so tightly in front of her that her knuckles were white as she finally said, “This isn’t going to be easy, is it?”
“No.” There was no other answer, no way to get around the truth. “It isn’t.”
She bit her lip. “Maybe I shouldn’t stay.”
“No.” The single word came out borderline panicked. “I need you to stay. Not just because I want you. But because I feel like I can talk to you. Really talk in a way I haven’t been able to in a long time.”
“I feel the same way with you.”
“Good.” Relief was washing over him in a major way. “Then you’ll stay.”
“This has been the best twenty-four hours of my life. I don’t want to go. But...” She bit her lip again, and he nearly lost it at the sight of the soft, wet flesh moving between her teeth. Flesh he wanted against his mouth, between his teeth. “Maybe I should move to one of the other buses.”
“No.” It seemed to be the only thing he could say to her tonight. The only thing he could say to himself. “The guy tonight at the venue who asked you out—he’s only the tip of the iceberg. I know it isn’t fair when we can’t be together, but I can’t stand the thought of you with anyone else.”
“I don’t want anyone else, Drew.”
That nearly did it, nearly snapped the final thread of his self-control. “I don’t either.”
She started moving toward him, her hands coming apart to reach for him, and he knew that if she touched him, he wouldn’t stop her. Wouldn’t stop himself. Even if it meant that both of them would break their promise to her father.
But then, at the last second, she stopped. Inhaled a shaky breath. And said, “I had an idea about the VIP room. If it’s okay to share it with you.”