Across the Miles (The Not So Bad Boys of Rock #1) (6 page)

He stood at just over six foot two, with dark hair cut short on the sides and longer on top, and it fell over his eyes when he dipped his head. He wore faded jeans that hung low on his hips and stretched across his thighs. A tight fitting T-shirt showed off the bottom of a large tattoo on his left bicep that I couldn’t quite make out, but curiosity had me wanting to explore it further. He ran a hand through his hair and a flash of silver hit me as I noticed the array of large rings on his left hand. I stole a quick glance at his other hand and noticed the word FREE tattooed just below the knuckles. My eyes trailed up his wrist, where a thin piece of black woven leather stood out against his evenly tanned skin. Next, I took in his piercings; there were five. On his left ear were two small silver hoops and a diamond stud. The viper bites held my attention, and when he caught me staring, he pulled them absently between his teeth. Lord, have mercy. This man was even more gorgeous up close and personal. I licked my lips again, swallowing the knot forming in my throat, aware of the tingling sensation spreading throughout my body. I found myself hoping like hell that he didn’t want me to leave.

“No, I’d like for you to stay. You can have the whole east wing to yourself. I won’t even bother you, if that’s what you prefer. You can stay here and get your rest, and then I’ll take you to get that scan tomorrow.”

“Yes, I would like that. I would like all of the above. Thank you.” He lifted my hand, raising it to his full lips,
and I felt a shiver as the metal brushed lightly across the sensitive flesh. “I better go take that shower. Oh, do you think I can get my hair wet? I want to clean up this dried blood. I can’t believe I sat here all afternoon talking to you with that in my hair.”

“I never gave it a second thought, you look beautiful to me,” he replied casually. I gave a small smile, careful to hide my enthusiasm, acting as if I heard famous people tell me I looked beautiful every day. “I’ll call Steve and see if that’s okay.” Sensing my confusion, he quickly clarified, “Steve is the doctor I’ve been telling you about.”

“Oh right, thanks.” I made my way to the shower as Sebastian placed his calls. Just as I was about to step in, I heard a light tap on the door. I grabbed the towel, wrapping it around me protectively just in case I had forgotten to lock the door. “Yeah?”

“Honey, I just got off the phone with Steve,” he called through the door. “He said it’s best not to wash your hair for a couple of days. When you finish up in there I can help you by taking a wet cloth to it, I can get out most of the blood that way.”

“Thanks, that would be nice,” I called back, grateful that the door between us hid the blush that crept over my cheeks at his insistence on calling me honey.

CHAPTER FIVE

Sebastian~

She has the most beautiful hair; I loved the way it played through my fingers as I carefully went about cleaning her up. After her shower, she changed into some fresh clothes that Michael, my head of security, had brought over from the hotel, and she came out to the living room smelling like my body wash. Why did it make me happy to think of her using the same bottle of soap as me? She settled down in front of me as I went to work, taking care not to press on the site of her injury. It took a while, but once I had finished, you would have never known anything had happened. Unfortunately for her, we both knew the truth.

“Thank you,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes. “You’ve been very kind to me. Listen, I just want to say that… What I mean is… I want you to know that I don’t make a habit of going home with strange men. I mean, that’s not my style.” Her hands fidgeted nervously in her lap, and she kept her eyes focused on them, as if
mesmerized by their movements. It suddenly dawned on me; she’s worried about what I might think of her. Unbelievable. Everything about her screams innocence and she’s worried that I might think she has loose morals. I offered a shy smile, trying to put her mind at ease.

“I don’t doubt that Brooke, you don’t strike me as someone that would allow herself to be taken advantage of. I want you to know that I only have the best of intentions at heart. No pressure or expectations, I just want to know that you are safe.” I leaned over and brushed a loose tendril of hair from her forehead, my fingers brushing her skin lightly, and a soft moan escaped her lips.

“I recognized you before, but I didn’t want to say anything. I love your music,” she smiled shyly. She has a beautiful smile, I told her that when I first met her. I could watch her smile all day long and die a happy man. “You’re like, my favorite band, and I’m not just saying that, you can check the playlist on my phone.” She chewed on her bottom lip nervously, and I studied her carefully, memorizing her movements. Everything within me wanted to take her in my arms and spend the rest of the evening in my bed. Something told me that not only was she not that kind of girl, but that she deserved better, she deserved more, and I wanted to be the one to give that to her. So instead, I watched her, and I liked what I saw, and I wanted to know all about her.

“You’ve got quite a reputation with women,” she announced, and I nearly choked on the water I had just gulped. “I mean, that’s what I read on the Internet.”

I wiped off my chin as I cleared my throat, stalling to find the right words. “I suppose I do, I mean, I do have a past. I hope that’s not an issue for you; it’s not something I’m particularly proud of. You’re not in any danger here,
if that’s what you’re concerned about.” I looked away, unable to meet her gaze any longer. The pureness that exuded from her suddenly made me feel cheap and ashamed. Right then I could have killed myself for living such a carefree lifestyle. When you are in the moment, you never think about the day you may have to answer for your poor choices, but when I looked into her eyes, it wasn’t judgment I saw staring back at me, all I saw was acceptance.

“I can understand. We’re all carrying around some form of baggage, it’s part of what makes us human. The key is to not allow that baggage to define who we are today or tomorrow. We all have the power to make changes to better our lives.” She shrugged her shoulders, looking me in the eye. “That’s how I try to get through each day. I typically like to acknowledge the obvious and then focus on the positive. You seem like a decent guy.”

Her words hit me hard, setting off all sorts of thoughts and feelings within me. For years I let myself get lost in the rock star persona and forgot who I truly was. Sure, I had my family to keep me grounded, but they weren’t with me day in and day out. When we weren’t writing songs, working in the studio, or touring, we each had our own lives. The guys and I hung out at least twice a week, and I got together with my family every Sunday night, but when I was on my own I got lonely. It wasn’t until I met Brooke that I realized I wanted someone as more than just an occasional companion; I needed a best friend, a partner, someone to share my life with. How was it that, after only twelve hours of knowing her, I felt like she could be the one I had been waiting for? There was only one way to find out, I needed more time with her, just one problem, she was heading back home tomorrow.

We stayed up for hours, talking about everything from
favorite childhood memories to our biggest fears. I learned that her parents divorced when she was eleven, and it had greatly shaped her life. She told me how her mother withheld affection from her, putting her career before her family; and how that had spurred her on to graduate early and enter the culinary arts. Apparently, she was an awesome chef. I could see her being awesome at anything she tried, and you could tell that she truly loved her job by the way her eyes lit up when she talked about wine pairings and cooking techniques. I listened to her talk for hours, and I soaked up everything she shared, laughing when appropriate, and burning with hatred whenever she spoke of her dysfunctional upbringing. I hung on every word. Oh yeah, Steve had been right; I had it bad.

She had just finished telling me a funny story about her early days working in the restaurant, when she yawned, quickly trying to cover it up. “Excuse me, I guess I’ve had a long day. Maybe I should turn in,” she stood up, immediately falling back onto the sofa, holding a hand to her head.

“Are you okay,” I knelt in front of her, instinctively reaching for her hand, she didn’t pull away.

“Yeah, I just had a pain in my head, and I felt a bit dizzy. I’ve probably overdone it today.” She made to stand up again, but I quickly slipped an arm under her knees and carried her to the bedroom, laying her gently down on the bed. She was so small, and felt light as a feather in my arms.

“Good night Brooke, if you need anything just let me know.” As I turned to go, she placed a hand on my arm, little jolts of electricity fired off where her bare skin touched mine.

“Thank you, Sebastian. I don’t know how I will ever
repay you for your kindness.”

I looked down at her hand, enjoying how it felt against me, and moved closer to the edge of the bed, pausing before sitting down. “Brooke, I have already told you that you don’t need to thank me; I want to take care of you. It’s no trouble at all. Get some sleep.”

It took quite a while for me to drift off; I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I tossed and turned restlessly. Sleep did finally come, most likely from sheer exhaustion, but I welcomed it, knowing that in the morning I would hear her sweet voice again.

Little did I know, I wouldn’t have to wait until morning.

“Sebastian,” I heard her whisper, and I knew right away that something was wrong.

Brooke~

I woke to a pounding sensation in my head; the painkillers had worn off. I slipped out of bed and made my way to the bathroom in search of something for the pain, only to find the cabinets empty. Next, I headed to the kitchen, but came up empty again. The only other place they could be were in his bathroom, but the only way in there was through the bedroom, and he was in there, asleep. I hated the thought of imposing on him further, but what choice did I have; I needed relief. I knocked lightly, but there was no answer. I knocked again, this time a little harder, still no response. I turned the knob, and the door opened. My heart was in my throat, but the pounding in my head gave me cause to step forward into his room, where he lay sleeping not more than fifteen feet away. The room was dark, except for the thin sliver of moonlight peeking through the
curtains, but I saw the outline of his body on the bed. The sheets were a tangled mess around him, and I stood there staring, and my mind began to wander. What would it be like to be his wife, lying next to him? Was he someone that cuddled, or did he prefer his space when sleeping? I’m guessing he would cuddle; he had already proven that he was caring and protective, surely that made for someone who would hold you in his arms every night. He had strong looking arms… I shook my head, snapping out of the daydream, and slowly made my way over to the king-sized bed.

“Sebastian,” I whispered, praying that I wouldn’t scare him half to death as my hand pressed softly against his smooth shoulder.

“Brooke?” he asked groggily, then rolled over and fumbled with the bedside lamp, suddenly the room filled with soft light, I shielded my eyes protectively from the brightness. “What is it, is everything okay?” He sat up instantly, his eyes filled with concern.

“I’m sorry, I just have a bad headache and I can’t seem to find any pain killers. I was hoping you had something in here.”

“Of course, here, sit down and I’ll go get them.” He jumped up and headed for the bathroom. I heard some mumbled expletives and drawers slamming shut before he finally reappeared holding a large bottle of acetaminophen and a glass of water. “Here,” he shook out two tablets, “hopefully these will help.” I swallowed the offered pills and finished the water.

“Thanks, sorry I had to wake you up, I didn’t know what else to do. I had some in my purse, but that’s gone so…” I was babbling, mainly because I was embarrassed to be sitting on his bed staring at him as he stood before me, still being unbelievably kind, while wearing only a pair
of tight boxer briefs. I met his gaze momentarily and looked away before standing up, “I’ll let you get back to sleep. Thank you again,” I muttered as I ducked back into the hall. As I started toward my room, I heard him calling after me.

“Brooke, make sure you let me know if you need anything else. I’ll leave my door open in case you need to call for me, okay honey?” he gave me a lop-sided grin.

“Okay,” I blushed, and continued down the hall, also leaving my door open, just in case. I crawled into bed and thought about Sebastian. He was being awfully kind to me, which struck me as especially odd seeing as how I was a complete stranger. Everything I had heard about L.A. led me to believe that the people in this town weren’t particularly friendly. I would have believed that, if the two guys at the beach had been the only locals I had interacted with, but he was different. There was something about him that intrigued me. We had talked for hours after dinner. I felt completely at ease with him, sharing very personal details of my dysfunctional upbringing, and he had listened intently, as only a best friend or boyfriend would do. He made me feel as if what I had to say was important. He asked me question after question about what I liked and didn’t like. He wanted to know all about my work, and through it all he seemed genuinely interested in my answers. If I would have been better at hiding my yawn, we would probably still be out there talking, I found that when I talked to him I didn’t want it to end. Being with him made me feel something that I had never felt before. I knew it sounded crazy, but being with him just felt comfortable. No, not just comfortable, it felt exhilarating. No, not just exhilarating either. It was all those things, but mainly, it just felt right. That’s it, being with him felt right. And I was going back
to Michigan.

The headache was still
present when I woke up; even the pillow hurt when it pressed against my scalp. My flight was scheduled to leave at two-thirty this afternoon, if I popped some more acetaminophen, and took a hot shower, maybe the pain would ease enough so that the flight wouldn’t be complete agony. Even though Sebastian was going out of his way to be kind and welcoming, I just wanted to be home in my own bed. I wanted to take a relaxing bath with candles burning and soft music playing, my go-to remedy when things got to be too much. I yawned and stretched before swinging my legs over the side of the bed, planting my feet firmly on the ground. I stood up and everything went fuzzy. I reached a hand out behind me to lean back against the bed but instead my knees buckled, and I started to go down. The last thing I remember was the garbled noise that emitted from my throat before I hit the floor.