Page 108 of Fire
When the call ends a few minutes later, a hush falls over the table, and then my mom lets out the girliest giggle I think I’ve ever heard. Her hand covers her mouth as her eyes turn into tiny slits. Soon, the entire table is laughing right along with her.
Even my stoic father.
“I’m gonna meet a rock star!” she squeals.
“Uh, hate to break it to you, Mom, but you already did.”
“Oh.” She waves a hand in Hendrix’s direction. “He doesn’t count. He’s family now.”
I feel Hendrix stiffen next to me, and for a moment, I wonder if my mom has overstepped. But when I sneak a glance in his direction, I see it—the deep swell of emotion swimming behind his eyes.
Yeah, Mom. He sure is.
Chapter Thirty-One
HENDRIX
Given what I’ve learned about Zara’s mom and her strict upbringing, I am surprised to find out that we are allowed to share a room.
Surprised and a little terrified.
Especially when Zara comes out of the attached bathroom wearing nothing but a tiny tank top and a lacy pair of panties.
“Are you trying to kill me?”Or get me killed?Because her father may be the strong and silent type, but I doubt he’d be cool with me fucking his daughter in the room just down the hall from his.
She steps into the guest room, which she explained used to be her room until her parents converted it after she got married. The former teal walls are now a neutral tan, and the queen bed now features a fluffy white duvet instead of the flowery bedspread from her youth.
“Why would you say that?” she asks innocently, walking toward me with an extra sway to her hips. Yep, she is definitely trying to kill me.
“You wear more to bed when it’s just the two of us in a luxury suite,” I tell her. “With thick walls and neighbors who don’t givea fuck.” I lower my voice to a whisper and point to the wall. “These neighbors very much give a fuck, Zara.”
She snorts out a laugh, closing the distance between us. I’m sitting on the edge of the bed in a pair of pajama pants. I think this is the first time I’ve worn them on the tour. I had to dig deep in my suitcase to find them, but I wasn’t about to walk around her house in a pair of boxer briefs, was I?
She must notice the change in attire because she smirks.
And then she drops to her knees in front of me.
Oh Jesus fuck.
“Zara,” I warn.
“Yes?” She answers sweetly as her fingers inch toward the waistband of my pants.
“What are you doing?”Just shut up and let the woman work.
“Thanking you.”
I close my hand over hers, steadying her hand. “Thanking me? For what?”
Her eyes meet mine, and I can see her playful expression slip just slightly. “At first, it was a thank you for setting up that phone call for my mom. It was such a sweet thing to do, and it means the world to me that she’s going to be there tomorrow—even if most of her focus will be on her crush.”
I laugh, running a hand through her damp hair. “Not all of us can betheAsher Knight.”
“That’s another thing,” she continues. “I was thinking about that conversation in the shower just now. How you told me to ask for anything—the way you worded it. It sounded very personal to you.”
“Well, your mom is special.”
“Yeah, but then there was Asher. He was a little dodgy too, using the word ‘we’ instead of ‘I.’” I freeze for a split second, but it’s enough for her to notice. “Asher isn’t the one paying for everything, is he? You just wanted me to assume he was.”
