Page 21 of Don't Fall For A Rockstar

God, one fucking night with this man and I was like an addict needing my fix. Some days, I could hardly believe he and I had even happened.

The last time I saw him, he was standing outside the Wayward Lane tour bus on a damp November day, in nothing but skintight pants, a sheer top, and my leather jacket. The jacket I’d insisted he wear. Not only did I insist he wear it, but I insisted he keep it. Which was odd. That kind of gesture was sentimental, and I was far from that.

Until him.

Until I realized Nate was wearing that jacket right now. I swallowed hard when he crossed his arms, turned, and looked directly at the camera. It was ridiculous to think that he was aiming that smile at me, but I could hope, right?

With the band interview was done, Nate grabbed the mic and waved to the screaming partygoers.

“Thanks so much, y’all! We’re stoked to be here tonight to celebrate a brand-new year with you!”

The crowd cheered in response, and Nate nodded.

“Our first album is releasing in two months, so this will be a year that me and the guys are never gonna forget. And we’re beyond thrilled to give y’all an early taste of what’s to come. I’m dedicating this first song,Falling Away,to the man who gave me this jacket. Do you love it?” he asked the audience as he swiveled around, giving them a 360° tour of his fit.

My eyes caught on his taut ass framed in burgundy leather, and it hit me. Holy shit, it wasn’t just my jacket. Nate was wearing theexact sameoutfit he had on from our night together. Well, except for one item.

I still had his lacy black jockstrap.

“Me too,” he responded to the crowd. “And I don’t ever plan on returning it.”

His statement had my cock rock hard in my jeans, and goosebumps littered my skin.

Same, baby. Same.

With another laugh, Nate turned to his bandmates and started belting out the opening chorus. I could’ve watched him all night, but my phone buzzed with a reminder from Ace. I had work to get on with, so I reluctantly headed back to the stage to get ready for the first set change.

And the more I walked, the more I realized I couldn’t wait any longer. Texting and calling Nate weren’t cutting it. I neededto see him. To kiss those unforgettable lips of his. To revel in his laughter.

I pulled up my calendar and glanced at the schedule. Searching my messages, I confirmed that Nate was traveling to Chicago and then headed down south, with a stopover in Tennessee in nine days. It wasn’t much, maybe a day or two. But it would have to do.

Without pause, I began making plans.

CHAPTER 9

NATE

NEW YORK TO CHICAGO

For me, the day after a performance is always a letdown. Especially when I was hungover. And when I’d only had a few hours’ sleep, and I had to get right back on the road.

And when the one person I wanted to talk to, to be with, was busy working so far away.

I felt that one most of all.

Tommy.A roadie who worked tirelessly, on stage and off.Thick black hair styled in an undercut, whiskey eyes, and twin dimples I couldn’t resist. Not to mention decadent lips, calloused hands, and a husky laugh that I could listen to for hours.

It’s crazy how one night can change everything.

I’d had plenty of hot, casual hookups, but there was something about me and Tommy that was different. It wasn’t just our sexual chemistry. He was protective and possessive of me. Not just in bed, but the morning after. We’d gone out for breakfast, and I was cold, so he insisted I wear his leather jacket. Me being the stubborn, independent man I was, refused at first.Until he kissed me soundly and I found myself giving in to his bossy charm.

And I’d been a goner ever since. Part of me knew that this was something special, from the moment he’d touched me in that club to the moment we said goodbye. No, not goodbye. Neither of us had been able to do that.

I could still hardly believe it. I was falling, hard and fast, and that realization should’ve sent me running.

But two months had gone by, and despite moving in opposite directions, miles apart, we couldn’t let go of this connection between us. If anything, the wanting was getting worse. Text messages and phone calls could not replace the real deal. But the rational part of me knew that Tommy and I would continue to veer off on different paths. My band was hitting the mark, launching our music career. And he was busy with Wayward Lane. And sure, we’d cross paths again, but for how long? And why continue with something that would lead nowhere?

My heart was already in dangerous territory. One more step and there’d be no getting out.

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