Page 373 of Rock Me All Night
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The world goes silent. No rushing wind. No screaming fans. Nothing but my lungs emptying as I fail to fight my sigh.
Tom is pressed against me. His fingertips graze the exposed skin on my lower back. His heartbeat pounds against my chest. He looks me in the eyes, his expression pure mayhem.
The boy is trouble with a capital T.
"Get your mind out of the gutter, kid. We're going dancing. It's 90s night." He steps back releasing me.
The door swings open and slams shut. Pete. He surveys the scene and frowns.
"This isn't going to make you feel better." Pete pulls his hood over his head and looks at the women waiting outside the barricade. "I'll do the honors."
Tom stops him. "You should come out with us."
Pete shakes his head. He walks away without offering an explanation. But there's no confusion on Tom's face. Whatever is going on, it's something they share.
Tom was upset earlier, thinking about his mom. It must be about her.
"He'll change his mind." There isn't a hint of doubt in Tom's voice.
Cockiness or familial instincts? Hard to say with Tom.
He takes my hand and leads me around the corner, away from the action. From here it's only a few blocks to our hotel. It's dark enough that we're not immediately recognizable.
Tom wraps his arm around my waist. "You make a nice shield."
"You're lucky you're as hot, rich, and famous as you are, because you can be a real asshole."
He stops at a red light, checks the traffic, and pulls me into the crosswalk. "You think I'm hot?"
"You know you're hot." I follow him along the sidewalk.
"Maybe I don't. Maybe you and Hazel wounded my fragile ego."
"There's nothing fragile about your ego."
He feigns offense, tugging at his t-shirt like he can't stand how hot he is. It rises above his belly button, revealing inches of defined abs. He played most of the show shirtless but that was different. He was in his own world, lost in the music.
Right now, he's here.
It's not like when he was talking to those women backstage. He's not performing. He's really here, in this moment.
Tom drops his shirt. "You keep looking at me like that and you'll give me ideas."
Okay. I'm gawking. But he's teasing me. He's trying to cause this reaction. I keep my gaze focused on what's in front of me. There's the hotel. A mere two blocks away. But there are people in front of it. Women. They're waiting for the band.
I nod at the crowd.
"Feeling shy?" he asks.
"You're free to soak in more adoration."
"Why does that sound like an insult?"
Because watching those women paw at him makes me want to throw up. I clear my throat. "It's not. You enjoy your fame. Good for you."
"Still sounding like an insult." He nods to the left and steps into a clear cross walk.
