Page 34 of Stuck with a Billionaire Rockstar

“What’s the holdup?” She asks, then pushes away from the wall and comes to a stop beside me. Her eyes dart over each clothing choice, and she rolls her eyes. “I’ve got something, but it’s going to be a little shorter on you.”

Nothing new.

Before I can object, she walks away from me and digs through her bag. I catch the small pieces of clothing she tosses at me, my eyes surveying them warily, and she narrows her eyes at me. “Just go put them on, or I’ll strip you myself.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter, keeping the garments close to my chest as I head toward the bathroom. “If I don’t like it you can’t be mad.” There’s nothing wrong with the gold and shimmery top, but the jean shorts are another story.

I’ve seen everything Mallory wears, and it leaves nothing to the imagination. If it’s already short on her, I can’t imagine how short they’ll be on me. I quickly shut the door behind me, her eyes lasered into my back, and wait until the door clicks before I tug my fuzzy shorts down. The jeans are tighter than I’d normally wear, but I stand sideways in the mirror to check my ass out – which doesn’t look bad – and decide throwing the shirt on wouldn’t be too much of an issue.

The bra I’m wearing is a push-up because sometimes the girls need a little help, and I adjust the cups as needed so that the curves of my breasts look more natural. When I’m proud of the outcome, I take a moment to study myself and decide I’m not upset with the woman staring back at me. It’s way better than a pencil skirt, that’s for sure.

Mallory is sitting at the edge of her bed when I walk out, but she stands at attention immediately, her eyes watching my every movement as I walk into the room, and a large smile lifts. This is the one I love seeing and the one I was missing last night when she found out about Brent and me. It’s making her face shine and showcases the apples of her cheeks, which only proves that she’s full of life and exudes a warmth that I love.

“You look amazing!” She giggles excitedly and grabs hold of my hands. “Those guys aren’t going to be ready for all this.” I roll my eyes when she flashes me a wink, but I can’t help the smirk that tips at the corner of my mouth.

I’m trying to be lighter tonight, knowing this is something Mallory had asked me to do, but I also can’t help looking over at my empty bed with desperation. Nothing would make me feel better than sitting in the middle of it, sugar forming a circle around me, as I cried my feelings away. This isn’t my night, though.

“Thanks,” I grunt while trying to dig my fingers under the edge of the shorts to pull them down. “I’m going to have a shit ton of wedgies before we even make it to the concert. How can you possibly wear these all the time?”

Mallory shrugs. “I normally wear them without panties on.” When I don’t answer her, choosing instead to blink as if it will change her response, she looks at me with a grin. “Don’t give me that look, and they would probably feel better if you did the same thing.” She nudges my shoulder. “I also know a guy or two that would appreciate the missing garment.”

Isn’t that tacky?

It’s bad enough I’ve already got people online telling Brent that I’m not good enough for him and that he deserves someone who understands his lifestyle. I guess from my side profile, the fans can tell that I’m a terrible human being and couldn’t possibly make him happy, which is ridiculous. No one knows me, yet every single comment I’ve looked at acts as though they do.

“Are we ready?” I ask, trying to shake the thoughts from my mind.

It’s not going to do me any favors by thinking about the comments so much.

Mallory nods, then grabs her purse and throws it over her head to let it hang from her side. “Good to go,” she says excitedly. There’s this weird glimmer in her eyes that I haven’t been able to figure out, but I choose to let it go. I’m sure I’ll figure out what’s got her so excited. If there were a celebrity we know taking the stage tonight, I’d assume that’s her excitement, but I looked at the lineup myself and I’ve got no clue who it is.

“Great,” I say with as big of a smile as I can manage right now. “Let’s go, then.”

She follows me out of the suite slowly, and we wait until our door clicks shut before heading down the hallway. The elevator ride is silent, but I can tell Mallory is getting antsy because she’s fidgeting back and forth while keeping an eye on the floor numbers as we descend.

What the hell is going on with her?

When the elevator opens onto the lobby floor, Mallory and I maneuver around people before I come to a dead stop in the middle of the floor. Standing ahead and dressed in a pair of black skinny jeans with holes scattered along the legs, a black t-shirt that hugs his biceps, and tattoos cascading over his skin like a beacon is none other than Brent. He seems to take a deep breath, my gaze catching onto the slow rise and fall of his chest, before pushing from his spot across the room and heading over to the two of us.

I start to shake my head and spin around, but Mallory places her hands on my shoulder while giving me an apologetic smile. “Sorry, babe, this is for your own good.”

“You knew about this?” I hiss.

She smirks like she’s the best friend in the world. “Knew? He’s the one who planned the damn thing.”

“And you thought I would want to go… why?” This is making no sense to me. She saw how upset I was last night. What would make her think this was okay?

I’m freaking out.

My heart is beating faster than normal, blood pumping loudly in my ears, and I’m frozen in the spot as Brent gets closer to the two of us. Even though my brain is screaming for me to turn around and get away from him as fast as I possibly can, the demand from my heart is weighing heavier on me.

“Because I’m an amazing friend and trying to be on your side,” Mallory says quickly before throwing a bright smile her brother’s way.

Brent comes to a stop in front of us, hands shoved in his pockets and trails his heated gaze down the length of my body before running his tongue along the seam of his lips. When he looks back up at me, I can tell there’s want and need swirling in his eyes. I hate the way my body immediately reacts to it with an intense longing, so I avert my gaze toward the front entrance.

That doesn’t stop me from feeling his eyes on me.

“Ladies, you look beautiful tonight,” he says softly. I glance at the hand he holds out in front of me, curiosity taking over, and he adds, “Are we ready to go?” Instead of placing my hand in his, even though I’m itching to do so, I head toward the exit with my head held high. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

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