Page 7 of Lily
Chapter 3
"Are you all right?"
She turned away from the blinding lights overhead for a moment until she was able to focus on the figure who had spoken. It was a man, the shape of him becoming clearer when he took another step toward her.
"Little one?" he said again in a voice like honey and sugar rolled together, the kind you would find covering nuts and other candies during the holidays, the sweetness of it making you reach for another when no one was looking. Lily had always snuck treats when her family hadn't been looking. The taste of sugar candies made her think of home, but she hadn't been home in so very long. Her heart squeezed, and the world came rushing back with a whoosh.
This was not home. This was New York. She was about to perform, and a stranger was calling her sweetheart.
She jerked back as if slapped. "I'm not your little one," she spat out, straightening with a toss of her head. She leaned back to get a look at him and frowned when she saw the man was smiling at her. He was a big man; all muscle and broad shoulders, he had to be at least a foot taller than she, which at her stature of 5'5 wasn't difficult, but it was still overwhelming to be confronted by such maleness. His skin was a warm, dusky color that had her fingers itching to touch it, his brown eyes flecked with ocher and ringed by thick lashes. Supple lips and a square jaw covered in scruff rounded out the picture of a man whom Lily could describe as nothing other than gorgeous. He was dressed simply in a red tee, the planes of his muscular body hinted at beneath the stretch of the material. He wore black jeans and dark leather boots, the entire ensemble classic and fashionable, and Lily was glad she had dressed up for the occasion. Her hands smoothed over the loose flowing material of the dress that fluttered around her as she moved. The neckline was daring, bold enough to scream confidence she didn't quite possess, but that was a secret she could keep to herself when she wasn't nearly fainting. She hated that this man had seen her in such a state, but the thought of taking the stage with nothing but her voice and the tracks she'd recorded earlier scared her beyond measure.
She sniffed the air and hated that she was drawn to his scent—cinnamon and cloves, a touch of sage. He made her think of the woods at night, of what it was to come home after being out in the bitter cold all day, both at once a place of safety and comfort.
It was not a leer, not a look filled with pity or concern, but a genuine smile that he gave her.
"My apologies," he murmured, tipping his head to her in deference. He flashed her another brilliant smile, and Lily swore he lit up the space around them with that simple curve of his lips.
"Ah, I mean—I didn't mean to snap," she said, recovering from her outburst and from being blindsided by this man's smile. That hadn't happened to her in some time, so long ago, in fact, that she scarcely remembered who had done it to her. She let her eyes move up and down the length of him. There was no way she was forgetting this man, though, not by a long shot.
"My name is Lily," she found herself saying and winced at how abruptly she'd pivoted from snapping at him to an introduction. She was sure to be giving him whiplash or, at the very least, casting herself as hot and cold. She wasn't usually like this, much preferring to be steady, to be less tumultuous, and she rarely snapped at people she had just met.
Though calling her little one? That had been asking for a reaction, of that, she was sure.
"That's a very pretty name, Lily."
"Thank you."
She waited expectantly for his name and was rewarded when he said, "My name is Sam." He extended his hand to her with another warm smile she felt to her toes. "Pleased to meet you."
She eyed his hand suspiciously for a moment, not because she was worried, not by a long shot. Sam possessed an energy that instantly set her at ease, had her wanting to lean into the warmth the man was radiating like the sun. No, she eyed his hand suspiciously because she did not trust herself to touch him without reacting; how she knew that, she wasn't sure, but she was fairly sure there would besomething.
Lily swallowed hard and took a deep breath, both of which made Sam chuckle at her. She raised an eyebrow and instantly the man stopped laughing, his face pressing into the picture of seriousness, well, except for his eyes. His eyes were dancing with laughter, and despite herself, Lily felt herself starting to smile at him.
"It's nice to meet you," she said when she finally slipped her hand into his. His hand was larger than hers, warm with callouses she could feel against her palms. He squeezed firmly, though his touch was astoundingly light for a man of his size.
"Are you all right, Lily?" he asked, repeating his question with a raised eyebrow. "You looked a little off before."
Lily jerked her hand back and laughed nervously as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Oh that's nothing but pre-show jitters," she lied.
"You looked like you were going to pass out," Sam pointed out.
"But I didn't."
He hummed. "So you didn't, but even so, my question remains. Are you all right?"
"I am, thank you for asking," Lily told him with a forced smile. It was a smile that would fool anyone who didn't know her. It was the one she had perfected for moments such as these when someone came too close to seeingher.She had used it often for the Dom she had been seeing, the one who had dumped her only at the top of the hour, and now she used it again with this man who saw fit to call herlittle one, the one she was positive was seeing right through her fake smile as if it were made of tissue paper.
"I'm fine," she said, clasping her hands in front of her just in case she got it in her mind to do something foolish, like touch him. Already, her fingertips wanted to trace the tattoos she could see on his arms, the bold lines standing out in contrast to his dark skin. She gestured toward the stage where they were ready for her, calling her name, in fact, and sidestepped the big man.
"I should be going. I'm on," she told him, though it was obvious from her name floating to them over the PA system that she was, indeed, performing next.
Sam smiled another of his easy smiles at her and moved to the side. "Break a leg," he murmured as she slipped past, the warmth of his body touching her through her flimsy dress and making her shiver in a way that had nothing to do with the prospect of performing. Though, she felt her knees go weak when the stage came into view, and she fought the urge to retreat back behind the safety of the curtains, back to where Sam was. Not that she cared about the last part. Sam was not the source of comfort but the curtain, right?
Fake it till you make it, though, as the old saying went. If she made it onto the stage, she knew her body would take over. This little almost-fainting spell is long forgotten and done with. She glanced back and felt her heart skip in her chest when she saw that Sam hadn't moved from where he'd been standing. The man was still standing there and smiling at her, his eyes still seeing too much; she could tell from the soft-eyed look he was sending her way. He flashed her a thumbs up and Lily felt her feet speed up at that.
She had to get on stage before she did make the mistake of stepping toward him. Lily turned to the stage as she came into the open space and nearly stumbled at the sight of the full house. Normally, late-night performances at the Burgundy were scarcely attended, but it seemed that tonight was to be a little different.
It was par for the course, she supposed, as the entire day hadn't gone quite as planned. She was supposed to be here celebrating with her Daddy Dom, telling him that she was ready for the next level in their relationship, not trying to move on from a crude, half-formed, text break-up.
