Page 58 of Starstruck
He winks, the smirk on his face panty-dropping as he says that last sentence, but I can’t focus on that when he just insinuated he’s been paying close enough attention to me to have noticed how much I dislike driving these days. I have avoided it at all costs since the accident. Aside from using Anderson when I’m with my siblings, I always Uber or walk. Baxter always picks me up for ourbenefitting, so I’m never the driver when I’m with him.
“I—” I begin, ready to argue. But he’s spot on, so I relent. “Fine. But I’m not staying over. You know the rules.”
I work for another twenty-five minutes before calling it quits for the day. He wraps his arm around me as we head out of Revolution to his cherry-red Porsche parked on the street.
It’s the same one I saw parked outside of Dylan’s the day of the funeral—the one I recognized but couldn’t figure out why. It’s because it’s Baxter’s, and he’s been in the headlines enough that I probably know more about him than I realize I do.
I still haven’t confronted him about being there that day. Or the fact that he definitely saw me lose it on the front steps while everyone else was inside. I know he knows I know, though. I’m certain it was written all over my face that first day after the bar when we approached his car.
I should probably say something about it, at least to figure out why he was there when it was for close friends and family only. But he obviously never came inside, and talking about it would also mean admitting I still feel as broken as I looked then.
Something in me snapped that day, and it’s something that no amount of talking or avoiding or ignoring will glue back together.
He opens my door—like he always does, being the gentleman he tries so hard to convince me he is, I’m starting to believe he mightactuallyjust be one—and I slide inside, buckling my seatbeltas he rounds the car.
The radio plays softly in the background as we drive the few blocks to his house, pulling into the long driveway to find Levi’s pickup and Colt’s bike already in the driveway.
We make our way inside, and my nerves spike as I hear their voices echo through the living room from the basement. Baxter takes me by the hand, holding on tight as if to ground me.
Even though we’re only friends with benefits, one thing I’ve noticed about Baxter is that whenever we’re together, he always has to be touching me in one way or another. It’s like he’s marking his territory, and I’m not sure how to feel about that. Part of me finds it endearing, but the other part is screaming at me to pull away, that this is breaking our no possessiveness rule—because it definitely is.
But I shove that thought down, because as much as that may be true, coming from him, it makes me feel safe. Physical touch has never been my love language, but I’ve come to rely on his.
We enter Baxter’s home recording studio where Colt and Levi are messing around with their instruments. I worry my lip between my teeth, unprepared for the conversation that’s about to occur.
Looking up from the drums, Levi smirks. “Well, well,” he begins, eliciting Colt’s attention too. “Look what the cat dragged in.”
Blood rushes to my cheeks as Baxter continues pulling me toward the guys. I feel frozen in time. I’m not shy when meeting new people—I think these nerves are more from the fact that meeting Baxter’s best friends makes this seem that much more real.
“Play nice,” Baxter growls at Levi, causing him to laugh. The corner of Colt’s mouth quirks up, but he remains stoic.
“Hi,” Levi greets me, holding a hand out to mine. “I’m Levi. Levi Tanner.”
I smile, though I’m screaming inside, and release Baxter’s hand to grasp his, shaking firmly. “Lennon Thorne.”
His eyes roam my body up and down, his tongue skating out over his lips. “Oh, I know who you are,” he teases.
My cheeks flush under his gaze, and I glance up at Baxter, who looks down at me with a smirk on his face, shaking his head. I chuckle and turn back to the two musicians.
Colt holds out his hand to me next, smacking Levi on the back of his head as he does. “Ignore him. He’s like this with every woman,” he says, wrapping his hand around mine. “I’m Colt.”
I laugh, nodding. “Lennon. Nice to meet you both.”
I know enough about Colt Waters and Levi Tanner just from working at Revolution. Couple that with being Baxter’s musicians—they’re extremely well-known in the industry. I can’t help but smile as I examine them, though, because they’re complete opposites in almost every way, it seems.
Levi is like a golden retriever puppy with his longer blond hair and hazel eyes, making him the embodiment of sunshine and mischief. He always looks like he’s up to something, smirking and smiling constantly. He’s a total class clown, and he likes it that way from what I’ve seen over the years. People tend not to take him very seriously, and I think he does it on purpose.
Then there’s Colt, who’s dark all around. Short hair trimmed closer on the sides, eyes so dark they’re almost black, tan skin, and a twenty-four-seven brooding expression. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the man truly smile.
It’s hard to believe these two are best friends, but they’ve been that way since before they met Baxter.
Colt is thirty-two, a year older than Baxter, and I believe he was signed to Revolution right around the time Baxter was—shortly after the label opened. Then Levi, who’s twenty-nine, followed after them a few years later. The two of them worked together for quite a few years before joining Baxter, if I’m not mistaken, though, I don’t believe they ever played with anyone consistently until him.
“So, you’re Baxter’s new groupie, huh?” Levi jokes, and I roll my eyes.
“She’s not a groupie,” Baxter scolds from beside me, his handresting on the small of my back.
“Whatever you say,Lover Boy.” Levi winks at me as he uses my nickname for Baxter, clearly insinuating Baxter told them about it.
