Rock Starred: Love My Way (4 page)

I couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking, if he was going to tell me I should think about going soon.

"Katie, you're so beautiful. You knock the wind right out of me." He leaned down and ringed the end of his nose around my bellybutton before kissing it, making me giggle, something I rarely do. "You know, I wanted you from the minute I laid eyes on you. I couldn't stop watching you the day of the photo shoot."

A disconcerting rush of emotion fluttered in my stomach. "You're sweet, but I'm already naked and in your bed. You don't need to worry about sweet-talking me."

He furrowed his brow. "Most women like it if I say that their shoes are cute. I'm not feeding you a line."

"Oh." My chest thumped in an unfamiliar pattern. "I'm sorry. I just, well, never mind..."

"There's no way I'm the first guy that's told you that you're beautiful and sexy and amazing." He kissed my stomach again with his mouth open, tracing his tongue in a tiny circle against my skin. "Men must tell you that all the time."

"No. You're not the first." He just happened to be the first who sounded as if he didn't expect anything in return.

"Has the sun always been this bright?" Gwen asked with disdain. "Whose idea was it to come to Miami, anyway? It's so sunny here."

We sluggishly ventured to the shadier side of the pool deck where there were several open chaises. Men and women reading the likes of
The
New York Times
and
Vogue
bathed in the sunniest spots, apparently unconcerned with premature aging.

Despite the inviting beauty of the crystal-clear infinity-edge pool, there was no one in the water, even when the day was already showing signs of a scorcher. Midmorning and it had to be in the upper eighties.

The pool boy in white tennis shorts and polo rushed over to spread terry covers on our chairs and I wondered why any grown man would take a job where he was referred to as a boy. Maybe it was the implied sex benefits, that every woman's fantasy was a romp in the towel room with the pool boy.

"I'm Julian. I'll be your server today, ladies. May I start you off with a mojito?"

My stomach lurched at the notion of mint, rum and lime. Gwen groaned and buried her forehead in her hand while she slumped down into her chair.

"Thanks, Julian. I'm thinking iced tea for us this morning." I set my pool bag next to my chair. "You doing okay over there?" I asked Gwen, patting her on the knee.

"Uhh. Do you have to be so loud?"

I smiled and shook my head. "Sorry, honey. I'll try to keep it to a dull roar."

I reclined, draping my forearm across my face. The sun was just high enough in the sky that it blanketed my legs in warmth. I slid my cover-up to the top of my thighs and sank further into the chair while I tried to convince myself that I wasn't hung over like Gwen, I was merely taking my sweet time.

Just as my stomach chose to do a few somersaults, someone loudly cleared his throat. I lifted my arm and peeked through one eye.

"Morning. Feeling a little rough?" Peter was breathtaking, damn him, shirtless in long black board shorts and Ray-Bans, unfortunately accompanied by Stony.

The only discussion Gwen and I'd had that morning was when she made it clear she wanted to stay as far away from Tony as possible.

"I'm good. You?" I asked, perplexed that he was seeking me out the morning after. Maybe he was the rare guy who bothered making the effort involved with friendship after sex, an arrangement that never really worked.

"I feel great. May I?" Peter gestured to the chair next to mine but didn't wait for me to answer before he dropped his towel and a paperback and stretched out. "I missed you this morning." He dragged his fingertip along the top of my hand. "Why didn't you wake me before you left?"

I pulled my hand into my lap. "Do you have to announce it?" I sat upright and propped up the back of my chair.

He leaned closer and pushed his sunglasses up onto his forehead, his eyes sparkling more brilliantly than the pool. "Oh Katie. Come on," he whispered. "You're not a prude. You proved that last night." His eyebrow arched in a playful, but cocky way.

I glanced over Peter's shoulder at Stony, who was standing at the foot of the empty chaise next to Peter, looking confused. Gwen had turned away from us, likely hoping that her flirtation with Stony had been a bad dream. A gray-haired man was asleep on the chair next to hers, leaving Stony to fend for himself.

Peter followed my line of sight and glanced over his shoulder. "Tony. Sit. We're staying. Unless you want to go find the rest of the guys."

"Staying?" I asked as Stony plopped into the chair.

"I like the view. Is that okay? Next round is on me."

"I'm drinking iced tea. They give you refills."

"Fine. I'll buy you lunch."

I watched him, his eyes sweeping across my face and narrowing. It was different seeing him in the light of day, knowing I wasn't going to sleep with him again. The air held a tinge of sadness. We'd already had our fun together and we'd had so much fun I was surprised I could walk without a limp.

"Okay," I said. "Lunch could be okay."

An attempt at friendship we would make—surely no harm in hanging out and having lunch. He was fun to be around when he wasn't being arrogant, even though just looking at him made me squirm in my own skin.

Peter settled in with his book and Stony slid a baseball hat over his face. I tried to relax, taking a stab at reading a magazine. Unfortunately, sitting next to Peter was driving me berserk, the temptation to look at him too great. He made me lose my place when his finger wandered to my chair and grazed my thigh. I took a deep breath, attempting to ignore the brush of his skin. This was precisely why it was so difficult to be friends with a guy after sex—the attraction was still there, only now I knew how good it felt when we gave into it.

I stood and tossed my hat onto the chair before lifting my cover-up over my head. I'd taken only a single step when I heard his voice.

"Hey, Katie. Want some company?" Again he didn't wait for the answer but folded the corner of his page and hopped up from his chair. He smoothed his palm over the bare skin of my hip. "You look amazing." He eyed me, I'd like to say it was from head to toe, but he seemed to be concentrating on the middlemost parts. "I'm serious." He took a few more steps and dove in, making the tiniest splash imaginable.

I strode to the wide steps into the pool. With one toe in, it became obvious why Peter and I were the only ones taking a dip. The water was nearly the same temperature as the air, like a lukewarm cup of coffee, not the refreshment I'd hoped for. I waded until I was in to my waist in the shallow end.

Peter was doing handstands in the deep end, his long feet wagging. He could stay up for a good ten seconds before he'd flip over and come back up for air. I swam to the side, folded my arms on the hot concrete and set my chin on my hands. My legs floated near the surface and I closed my eyes, enjoying the gentle lap of the waves Peter was creating from the other end.

There was a splashing sound and droplets of water hit my back. Peter was next to me, swiping his wet hair from his forehead, his brilliant white smile tugging at me as I placed my feet on the pool bottom again.

"So what's the plan tonight?" he asked. "Stony and I have sound check at four, but we don't go on until ten. Do you and Gwen want to grab dinner?" He moved closer and trailed his fingers down my spine. "Or we could ditch those two and have dinner alone." His eyebrows shifted up and down.

I had a fuzzy recollection of the reason Slump was in town—their sold-out show at one of the big rock clubs downtown. "Right. You guys are playing tonight. Gwen and I should probably go out on our own for dinner. It's the only night left of our girls' weekend."

He held his hand to his brow and scanned my face. "Are you not okay with what happened last night? Because I thought it was spectacular." He moved his hand to the tender underside of my arm, caressing my skin beneath the water.

I didn't know what to say and he put me off track every time he touched me. "It was great, but we should probably just stick to lunch. I don't want to make things any more complicated than they have to be. For me or for you."

"What exactly is so complicated about dinner?"

"Nothing, but you and I both know we're talking about more than dinner."

"Of course we are. I have all sorts of tricks up my sleeve. Although I won't be wearing sleeves."

I had to smile at his goofiness, even when he was frustrating the hell out of me. "I'm sure your tricks would blow my mind, but I don't do more than one night. And I assumed that you were on the same page. I mean, you're in a band. Isn't that your thing? I just assumed that one night was all you wanted too."

"Hey. Don't make assumptions. It's not cool." His eyebrows drew tightly together. "We had an amazing night together and we get along great. Why is dinner and another night together a big deal?"

"It's a big deal to me. A really big deal." I wasn't about to launch into the story behind my rule while I was chest-deep in water with dozens of strangers within earshot. One night had been tested. I knew my limits. I knew the places my heart was all too eager to go.

He grumbled and shook his head. "I have to say this is a first. And I have to admit that I admire you for having the balls to do what guys do all of the time." He reached into the water and scooped a handful over the top of his head, sweeping his hair back. "But I'm not other guys. I think you should break your rule for me." He reached for my hand, his eyes a pale and icy blue in the blazing midday sun.

"Give me one good reason."

"This." He slid his other hand around the back of my neck, threading his fingers through my hair. His mouth against mine was soft and wet. He pulled back only a few inches. His breath was warm on my lips. "Seriously, what do I have to do to convince you to give me one more night?"

I gnawed on my lower lip. My brain felt as if it had been turned upside-down. With shimmery beads of water along his shoulders and collarbone, he was irresistible. The question only made the situation more disorienting. No man had ever asked me such a thing. The few who stuck around long enough for the explanation always seemed to take it at face value, willing to walk away. "I don't know."

"You want to spend time with Gwen? Have dinner with her and spend the night with me." He took my hand and raised it to his perfect lips, kissing the back of it lightly. "The whole night."

My stomach knotted at the thought of breaking the rule that had protected me so well. A second night would mean one thing, I was only going to get more drawn in to Peter. How could I not? I needed time to process this. "Can I think about it?"

"Of course you can." His thumb rode back and forth over my knuckles. "But I think you already know the answer. I think you want to and you just don't want to say it."

* * * * *

"Your turn," I announced to Gwen, wrapping my hair up in a towel. I stepped out of the bathroom to see her perched on the edge of the bed, looking deep in thought. "You okay?"

She frowned. "I called Ted. I feel guilty."

"You didn't tell him, did you?" I plopped down next to her and she popped up on the mattress. I wrapped my arm around her. "It was just some flirting. You had the sense to stop before you did anything stupid."

"What was I thinking in the first place?"

I bit my tongue. I'd been wondering the same thing. "You were drunk and he's sorta cute."

She responded to my answer with a quizzical look.

"There's the rock star thing," I said. "Every woman has that fantasy, doesn't she?"

"Apparently you do. Is Peter number four or five?" She picked at her fingernail. "Not that I blame you. He's ridiculously hot."

"I don't exactly keep track, but it's more like two. Maybe three."

"Well, whatever the number is, clearly you're not rock starred out yet."

"One could argue that it's an occupational hazard."

"Even though those are exactly the kind of guys who don't stick around?"

Gwen had missed her calling as a talk-show host or a therapist—her talent for getting to the heart of the matter was unmatched. That was precisely what I'd done. The handful of one-nighters I'd had since Brad had all been that type...guys who don't stick around. Even though he'd said he was different, there was a good chance I'd just found another one in Peter. I played it off with a wave of my hand. "We weren't talking about me anyway."

"Why is that?" She turned and crossed her arms across her chest, her eyes accusatory. "When we hang out at home, we only talk about me. You know things about my relationship with Ted that nobody else knows, but I know nothing about what's up with you anymore."

"That's not true. I tell you about work." I bent forward and unwrapped my hair from the towel, flipping it back and letting it roll over my shoulders. "There is no relationship stuff in my life. You know that."

She shook her head slowly. "That world is your own creation. Nobody is forcing you to have your rules."

The corners of my mouth drew downward. Apparently the only person in my life who understood my rules no longer considered them helpful.

"Look," she said. "I get why you did it. Brad hurt you. He treated you like shit. But it's been more than two years and you need to try a different approach." She planted her hand on my knee. "You didn't used to be like this, hooking up with guys like they don't mean anything."

I pursed my lips. My shoulders tightened. "I don't treat guys like they're nothing. I just don't get involved. There's a difference."

She groaned. "That's not you. That's some alien version of Katie you invented. You can't do this forever. You have to open up to someone or you're going to end up alone."

I crossed my legs and looked up at the ceiling, avoiding eye contact. The agony of what had happened two years before washed over me like high tide, muted only slightly by time. I'd grown a thicker skin, learned to protect myself since then. Even so, it didn't take much to conjure the memory of coming home from my final wedding dress fitting to Brad's note, the one that would change my life forever.

Sweet contentment had worked its way through me when I saw Brad's familiar handwriting scrawled on a piece of paper on the kitchen counter. I was sure it was another love note. He used to leave them for me all the time and we were so close to our big day. My final thought before I started reading was that I’d never imagined it was possible to be so in love with someone.