Page 121 of Deliverance

I file the information away. Hazel hardly talks about her husband’s courting and I know better not to ask. I know she has her own secrets, just like I have mine. “And solo stuff? Have you ever thought about it?”

Zander gives me a solitary headshake. “I like the concept of writing music with other people. It’s not the same when you do solo stuff.”

“It’s so strange,” I muse, sipping on my martini. It hits me then—there’s so very little I really know about this man. Not because I don’t care to find out, but because he’s constructed a facade that prevents people from taking a good look at what he’s truly about.

“What is?”

“How different you two are.”

He quirks a brow.

“You and Justice.” I clarify. “He doesn’t seem to have a problem bossing people around and doing solo stuff.”

Zander laughs. “That he does. He’s a natural born leader. Part of his DNA.”

“Oh, right.” I lower my voice. I’m unable to contain my giggle because the martinis are that darn good. “Rock'n'roll’s best kept secret. The Justice Cross and Elijah Hale relationship.”

“Not that big of a secret anymore, but I’m sure you’re privy to a lot of insider info. Being friends with Mrs. Cross and all.”

“I liked her the second we were introduced. She’s very talented.”

Zander brings his hand to my hair and slowly runs his index finger through an unruly wind-beaten lock. “So are you, Drew.” The way he says those words makes me shiver. Not from the cold, because I’m anything but at this very moment. It’s the close proximity of his body and the confident tone of his voice that sparks something inside me.

And I act on my feelings again. I lean in and press my mouth to his.

I’ve never kissed a man in a public place before and it seems significant.

Symbolic even.

As if I’m claiming him. As if I’m claiming back a part of me. A part that’s been so violently subdued and crushed.

At first, Zander goes frighteningly still. But a heartbeat later, his palm slips farther into my hair and cups the nape of my neck to pull me closer to him, but his touch is gentle, featherlike.

Around us, people are milling about and the clink of drinks is drowned out by the alternative rock music that blasts from all corners of the bar, but none of that registers at the moment.

It’s the taste of his lips—beer and salt—that I’m after. The kiss deepens and my breath hitches in my chest, my pulse suddenly out of control.

Zander draws back a little, but his eyes never leave mine. “Are you tired? Do you want to get out of here?”

The lack of sleep and the flight drained me, but that’s not why I want to leave.

I want some time alone with him. Without distractions.

Once the check is handled, Zander leads me out into the lobby and in the direction of the elevators. We ride upstairs in silence, our fingers laced together, and when we’re in the suite and he releases my hand, I’m both relieved and disappointed. And these two emotions don’t seem to want to give up to one another.

“Like I told you, I’ve never done this before.” His voice is low and raspy. “I don’t know what the rules are here, but you asked me to give you time, so I’m going to leave it all up to you. I’m right across the room.”

“Thank you for bringing me here.” The martinis are starting to cloud my mind and I take a step back. I distance myself from him because I thought I was ready, but I’m not. And I don’t want to make any rash decisions. I like him too much to mess it all up. “Goodnight, Zander.”

“Goodnight, Drew.” And with that, he disappears behind his door.

20 Zander

I stripoff everything but my briefs and slip under the heavy blanket. The soreness in my ribs is starting to come back. Must be because of all the walking we did today. I’ve been hitting the gym this past week hard, but my body still rebels against excessive exertion.

Goodnight, Drew.

Really? Is that all you could come up with, asshole?the little voice in my head keeps nagging as I begin to toss and turn, attempting to find a position where the pain is at a minimum.

---