Page 71 of Wicked Rockstar

Holy shit.She was seriously considering it. I didn’t respond right away, knowing full well whatever came out of my mouth would sound like me gloating, and even I knew that was a surefire way to get her to change her mind before she even agreed.

“We’ll make our couple debut at the gala.” It was a who’s who in the music industry. To have Tris with me would make a statement.

“So what do we do until then?” she asked, chewing on her bottom lip and making me even crazier for her.

I scanned her apartment while she continued to turn the idea over in her mind. The place was small, cluttered but cozy, even with the unpacked boxes littered throughout the room. Colorful throw pillows dotted a worn sofa, and fairy lights throughout the room created a warm ambiance. It was so … Trissabelle.

I cleared my throat. “We start by moving you into my place.” What the fuck was I saying? I hadn’t come here tonight to offer that. I liked my solitude. I liked my freedom. I liked not answering to another person.

“I have anapartment.”She waved her arms gesturing around her, then crossed them over her chest. “Besides this ridiculous idea of us moving in together, how in the world are we going to get people to buy that we’re in a relationship?”

“Whirlwind romance,” I interjected.

“Seriously? You don’t do relationships.”

“Studying up on me, Tink?” I smirked.

“Don’t be a conceited jerk. Any tabloid article about you has a different girl on your arm every time. It’s kind of hard to miss when I get groceries each week.”

“Then we met again and realized we had feelings for each other when we were younger and decided not to waste any time,” I said, my voice rougher than I intended.

She snorted, but I didn’t miss the way her cheeks flushed. “Like anyone will believe that.”

“Why the fuck wouldn’t they?” I stood up from the couch and crossed the room, drawn to her like a magnet. Her gaze darted to my lips for a split second before meeting my eyes.

“Come on, Killian,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re you, and I’m me.” She gestured between us, a defiant look flashing in her eyes. I caught her wrist between us, gently brushing my thumb over her pulse point. It was as erratic as my heartbeat.

She stopped breathing.

“And?” I prodded.

She sighed. “You’re a celebrity. I’m your complete opposite.No onewill ever believe that I swept you off your feet. The famous rockstar falls for the frumpy, nerdy girl behind the scenes who he hasn’t spoken to in years?”

I frowned. “You’re too good for me, and we both know it.”

“Killian … ”

“Maybe I swept you off yours. I can be fucking romantic when I want to be.”

She giggled. I wrote music for a living but nothing would ever beat the sound of her happiness. “Oh, yeah. I can tell.”

Something inside me snapped. Before I could stop myself, I was backing her towards the wall. My hand slammed onto the surface behind her head and caged her in. The lavender scent of her perfume enveloped me, driving me to the edge of insanity.

“You don’t think I can be romantic, Tris?” I growled, my voice low and rough. “You don’t think I could make you forget all about Peter or any other guy you’ve been interested in?”

I watched the pulse quicken at the base of her throat, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her eyes widened, pupils dilating, and for a moment, I forgot why I was there. I forgot about the plan, about Peter, about everything except the woman in front of me.

Without thinking, I reached up with my free hand, brushing a strand of hair from her face. My fingers lingered on her cheek, and to my surprise, she leaned into my touch.

Shock rippled through me, followed by a longing so intense it scared the shit out of me.

This wasn’t part of the plan. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

I jerked my hand away as if I had been burned and took a step back, trying to put some distance between us. My heart pounded so loud I was sure she could hear it.

“Pack your bags, Trissabelle,” I managed to say, my voice sounding strange even to my own ears. “You move in tomorrow.”

I turned to leave, desperate to escape, before I did something stupid like kiss her. It was bad enough that I had decided to move her into my house.

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