Page 46 of Forbidden Billionaire Rockstar

The question is, which Mallory will win out?

16

Jace

The crowd’s roar fadesto white noise as my eyes lock on Mallory. Even from across the stage, I can see the tension in her shoulders, the forced smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. Something’s off, and I’m itching to fix it.

Right now, though, it looks like she would rather be anywhere but here, and I wonder if it has anything to do with her being late to the interview she had set up for Sweet Surrender. I’m not sure why they would be upset because, according to her, she ended up sending everything they would need through email, so it wasn’t exactly mandatory for her to be there.

While Evan strums his solo, I keep my attention focused on the opening in the curtains where Mallory is standing. If I wasn’t watching her so closely, I’d miss the fact that she’s nodding her head back and forth along with the chords of Evan’s guitar —at least she’s enjoying the music, even if it doesn’t seem like the case.

Right before Evan’s chords come to an end, signaling the start of my solo, I catch sight of Julia as she comes to a stop at Mallory’s side. I blow out a breath of relief when an enormous smile overtakes Mallory’s face, her arm wrapping around Julia’s waist as she pulls her in for a hug, and I put all my focus back on our show.

It doesn’t last long, though, as I think of ways that I can relieve some of Mallory’s stress. For a moment I’m too caught up in my thoughts that I strum the chords of my guitar wrong, the sound echoing through the stadium and making me flinch. Brent snaps his attention to me, eyebrow raised slightly, and then he saves the day by talking into the mic and getting the crowd hyped up for our next song.

Mallory deserves a night free from stress, a chance to breathe and just be. Before I can second-guess myself, I make a silent vow. I'll be the one to give her that respite, even if it's just for a few hours. Our deal, our carefully constructed boundaries, they all fade into the background when I think of her smile.

As I play through the rest of the set on autopilot, a warmth spreads through my chest. This isn't just about alleviating Mallory's stress anymore. It's about how she's seeped into every aspect of my life, coloring my world in ways I never expected.

Shit. Who am I kidding?

The truth slams into me like a spotlight. Mallory makes me feel like the luckiest man alive. Not because of our arrangement, not because of the physical connection, but because of who she is - her strength, her determination, her vulnerabilities.

I'm falling for her, hard and fast, and for the first time in my life, I'm not sure I want to retreat to safer ground.

***

When we exit the stage one after the other, I frown when I notice Julia is standing alone and make my way over to her. She eyes me curiously, then smirks and glances over my shoulder at Brent.

“Amazing, as always,” she whispers with a loving smile aimed at her husband, her arms wrapping around his neck as he pulls her against him. “You never fail to impress me.”

Watching the two of them together only makes me crave the moment for myself that much more, and I imagine Mallory as the woman waiting for me as I stalk off stage, desperate to be near her once again. It’s not a bad image, and I crave it the longer it lasts, but I shake it from my head before clearing my throat.

“Uh, did Mallory head out?”

Julia glances at me, a knowing gleam in her eye that has me on edge, and she nods. “Yeah, said she wasn’t feeling great tonight.”When I don’t answer, she sighs and leans closer to me. “If you ask me, I think it has everything to do with Hilary. That woman does nothing but glare at Mallory, and I’d be stressed too if I were her.”

“Right,” I mutter, then glance down the hallway that leads to our dressing rooms. “I’m gonna get changed, then head to the hotel. I’m beat.”

It’s not a lie, but also not my plan when I get to the hotel. I have already firmly set up everything I want to do in my head, and I’m excited to see Mallory’s reaction to it all.

***

The adrenaline from the concert still courses through my veins as I make my way back to the hotel, my mind racing with plans for the evening ahead. The weight of the bags in my hands is a reminder of my mission - to bring a smile back to Mallory's face.

As I step into my room, the quiet solitude is a stark contrast to the roaring crowd I left behind. I set the bags down with a sigh of relief, the soft thud a punctuation mark between the chaos of the show and the intimacy of what's to come. My fingers tingle with anticipation as I begin to unpack, each item a piece of the puzzle I'm piecing together for Mallory.

I’m just thankful that most of the large cities we play at have stores open twenty-four hours, so it wasn’t difficult to get to oneof them for all the supplies I’d need tonight. I grab the bottle of wine I purchased, then a bucket, and head back out into the hall to find the ice machine they keep by all the rooms.

It only takes me a few moments to fill it up, but I still worry that one of the guys is going to walk out and wonder what the hell I’m doing. I steal one quick glance down both ends of the hall, double-checking that I’m still alone, then step back into my room and shut the door behind me.

Once I’ve filled the bucket with ice and submerged the wine, I head back to my bags of supplies to set up the next thing.

I’m not a romantic guy, but I know women love taking baths, and I thought Mallory would appreciate a relaxing one. I got a sound machine that plays unique nature sounds—rain falling, ocean waves, tropical storms, and plenty of others—and a stress-relieving bubble bath I’m hoping works like it says it should.

I carry the sound machine into my large bathroom, set it up on the shelf next to the sink, then set the bubble bath at the edge of the tub. Once I know she’s on her way, I’ll start the bath and dump a healthy dose of the bubble bath into it. Before it gets too late, or she decides to go to bed, I quickly send a text to Mallory for her to come to my room in about thirty minutes.

That should be plenty of time for the wine to cool against the ice and allow me the time to get everything else perfected as well.

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