Page 409 of Rock Me All Night
A smile spreads over his lips. "I know you're not into fashion but you have a good eye for this kinda thing." He lets out a wistful sigh. "I got Kara's ring size from Meg."
My jaw drops. He must be talking about an engagement ring. "You're going to propose?"
He nods. "After her graduation party. With skywriting. I know it's cheesy—"
"Cheesy is good."
We step into the store. It's dead quiet, empty except for the shiny displays. Everything here is gorgeous. What would Kara want? She always looks perfect. Her hair, makeup, nails, clothes always fit the occasion. She'll want something classic. Elegant. But with a little flair too.
I let my eyes lead me. The halo rings are too trendy. Not an angular shape. Something rounder.
There. A cushion cut solitaire draws my attention. Perfect.
Drew is right behind me. His eyes sparkle as much as the gems do.
"You think she'll like it?" he asks.
"We can look around more."
His eyes go to the ring. "No. It's perfect." He waits for the sales woman to approach us then smiles at her. "I want the biggest one you have."
* * *
Aknockon the door rouses me from my daytime TV and pancake induced nap.
"Yeah?" I ask the knocker.
"Hey." Tom taps his fingers against the door. "I have something for you. A present."
Tom got me a present? Something tells me it's not a written explanation of his intentions, but I'm intrigued all the same.
I open the door and invite him in. He looks especially yummy in his stage getup. Tight jeans. Tight t-shirt. Messy hair falling in every direction. There's a thin wisp of liner around his green eyes. It does things to me. Makes my knees desperate to buckle.
He sets a bright pink gift bag on the bed.
"I, uh..." He looks me in the eyes. "Pete and I are flying to Los Angeles after the show tonight. We have to take care of some family stuff. We're meeting the band in Minneapolis next week. But I didn't want to leave without getting you this."
I raise an eyebrow. "Should I open it now?"
Right on cue, his pants buzz. His phone is in his front pocket. Very, very close to his—
"Eyes are up here, kid." Tom pulls his phone from his pocket. "I'm late for the sound check. You'd think those assholes could start by themselves for once, given how much time Drew spends tuning his already tuned guitar." He ignores the call and looks me in the eyes. "Open it tonight. Or tomorrow. But not without me."
"You're leaving tonight."
"I'm pretty sure you noticed that buzzing in my pants."
I clear my throat.
"Call me. Want to hear your voice when you see it." His eyes flare with mischief. "You'll like it. I promise."
* * *
After the showand a solid hour editing with Hazel, I'm dead tired. I drag my heels to the bus and collapse in the private room. Technically, it's Tom's turn, but he offered it to me.
I text him a thank you and get to unpacking my suitcase.
The room is clean and bare except for the overflowing dresser drawer. The amount of clothing in it is disturbing, considering that the band uniform appears to be v-neck, dark wash skinny jeans, and sneakers. It's hard to criticize when they always look damn good.
