Page 23 of Verses Of Us

“I don’t want you stuck in this situation more than you need to be. I didn’t want this.” His brow furrowed as he glanced down at her body, then back at her face. She felt as if a wall had gone up between them, one that prevented him from speaking the truth. “I understand if you’d rather go home.”

Drowning in a sea of conflicting thoughts, she knew any doubts she had stemmed from how othersbelievedshe should feel and not from how she actually felt. If ever her mother found out what she was up to, she’d ground her for life. But Julie’s warning resonated louder in her mind. How surprised would her friend be if Alexis went back to Ciarán Jones’ hotel room? And the truth was, shereallywanted to go. She trusted her gut and didn’t question his kindness. And she couldn’t ignore how their kiss had opened a door into a world she’d only ever read about, one she’d never dreamt of stepping into.

“Do you want me to go home?”

His frown deepened. “Not one bit.” After a deep exhale, he added, “I was really looking forward to spending time with you.”

“I was, too.”

“Then let’s do dinner. Nothing has to happen. You’re in charge.”

“And what about the fans?”

“They won’t bother us.”

After what they’d gone through, Alexis doubted that very much. But no matter what, she couldn’t fathom leaving his side, not without regretting it.

She reached over, clasping their hands, a surge of electricity rushing across her skin.

“OK, but let’s make one thing absolutely clear. I’mnota groupie.”

His lips pressed together as he stifled his laugh. “Noted.”

MISUNDERSTANDINGS

Alexis

Nofancyrestaurants.Noprivate nooks tucked away from prying eyes. Much to her surprise, Ciarán had brought her back up to his room, and they’d ordered room service. She’d breathed a sigh of relief. They were alone in the enormous suite, far from the crazed fans threatening their lives.

Beneath her feet, heat radiated through the bathroom’s square travertine tiles. Alexis wiggled her toes, enjoying the luxury. She’d never been in a bathroom with heated floors, let alone one with a deep lounging tub and a shower with enough heads for a car wash. Next to the double sinks was a small television set.

In the wall-length mirror by the door, her reflection stared back. She drew in a steadying breath and dried her hands with the fluffiest of white towels, then studied the cluttered countertop covered with various toiletries before landing on a black bottle of cologne. She hesitated, but then grabbed it, running a thumb over the embossed letters—Creed.She spritzed some in the air and breathed it in, unabashedly enjoying Ciarán’s recognizable scent. What started out woody and fresh, soon faded into something resembling a summer’s evening, and she fell in love with the way it made her insides dance.

Ciarán was in the living room, sitting on the dark blue suede sofa, strumming a tune on his guitar. Deeply immersed, he didn’t hear her approach, so she stood behind him and listened while he played. Simple and lovely, the song reminded her of their kiss.

“Do you like it?” he asked, watching her in the television’s reflection.

“Yes, it’s beautiful. Did you write it?”

“I did. It came to me… yesterday.” He leaned away, setting the guitar back in its cradle.

“Don’t stop playing on my account.”

“Only if you come here.”

Ciarán had a knack for making the simplest requests sound sexy. Too hard, and too quick, Alexis could tell she was falling for this guy. But she knew there was no future between them. This was a once in a lifetime experience. Still, she wanted to be as close to him as possible while she could.

Nervous, she inched around the sofa, taking a seat next to him, keeping her eyes on his hands. He reached for the guitar and settled it onto his lap, each finger finding its place on the strings and picked up where he left off, shutting his eyes, as if each strum sent pain through him, as if each note cut parts of his soul.

The music made her comfortable; every moment spent with him was natural. There was nowhere else she’d rather be. She propped her head on her hand and leaned against the back of the sofa.

On the tenth floor of the hotel, the suite was almost as big as her home’s main floor and when they’d walked in, Alexis’ jaw dropped. They’d sat on the lush, carpeted living room floor, talking and laughing, eating burgers and fries from silver room-service trays.

But the break from her worries was short-lived. The gnawing curiosity about what might happen if she stayed longer came back, and she wondered if sitting so close to him, and letting this unique moment consume her, was a risk she should take?

Over her shoulder, the bedroom, and its open door, kept calling out its invitation. Inside, the king-size bed sat unmade, the thick, white duvet hanging off the foot and spilling onto the floor. It reminded her of Ciarán’s messy dressing room and she tried to convince herself that if Ciarán had intended to bring her back to his room, he’d have asked for housekeeping to tidy up.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, ripping her from her thoughts. The last strings of his song reverberated in the amazingly large living room.

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