Hidden in the Stars (Falling Stars #2) (33 page)

BOOK: Hidden in the Stars (Falling Stars #2)
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The limo door opens and Lucas and Sean shoot out in a flash of khakis and polo shirts.

Sliding to the open door, I slip out of the car and pause. The boys stand next to Julia at silver elevator doors. Taking a deep breath, I prepare to move.

His large, warm hands settle firmly on my hips. I stiffen when his legs stretch out on either side of me. When he stands, he allows the front of his body to slide over my ass and back until the length of him is flush against me. I melt, leaning against him, absorbing his heat and inhaling his scent—leather and sandalwood.

The warmth of his breath on my neck should cause alarm. Instead, I loll my head to the side, allowing him access. The feel of his teeth sends a spasm through my body. I fist the denim covering his thighs and he lightly sucks at my skin, turning the spasm into a pulsating firestorm.

A throat clears and I jump, putting half a foot between Jackson and me. Turning, I catch Jackson glaring at the driver.

"There's a car coming, sir." The driver nods toward approaching headlights. "It may be the other limo, but I'm not sure."

"Alright," Jackson says coldy.

His hand comes out, snagging the waist of my jeans and pulling me against his side. "Let's go." He guides us to the elevator.

Oh God!
Craning my neck, I look around the parking garage. Lucas and Sean are nowhere to be found.

"Where's—?"

"Julia took them up," he answers before I finish.

Closing my eyes, I exhale sharply, pissed at myself.
Jesus, I'm a horrible mom. So caught up in—

"Stop." His voice cuts through my thoughts as the elevator door opens.

"I'm not doing—”

He walks us onto the elevator.

"It's all over your face. Lucas and Sean are fine. You saw they were with Julia."

He presses a button with his free hand.

Unsettled by his ability to read me and by how easy it is to just be with him, I stay silently pressed against his side until the elevator reaches the penthouse. With his hand on my lower back, he directs me into a foyer with dark wood floors.

Jackson's presence at my back spurs me to keep walking. Following the dark wood slats, I reach a large open living space with an oversized taupe, U-shaped couch and a large flat-screen TV on the wall. To the left of the area is a bar and the right has a wall of windows leading to a balcony.

"One of the rooms is back there past the kitchen."

I follow where Jackson points to a door at the far end of large, open dining and kitchen spaces. The dining table seats twelve, the kitchen bar six. Swallowing hard, I simply nod.

"The other rooms are this way." He thumbs over his shoulder.

Walking around him, I follow the dark floors down a long hallway.

"Closet on the right, half-bath on your left. The next door on the right is the master bedroom." He pauses, but I don't give him the reaction he's waiting for. Instead, I keep walking.

"Another bedroom is on your left. That's where the twin beds are for Lucas and Sean."

As if summoned by their name, the boys emerge from a room at the end of the hallway.

"This place is amazing!" Sean shouts.

"There are two balconies and they have a rooftop pool." Lucas grins. "Please, can we go swimming?"

"You don't have swim trunks." I brush stray blond hairs from his forehead.

"With your permission, I'll have some sent up." Julia walks out of the same room.

I can't fight the scowl forming on my face. Her eyes drop to the floor in submission.

"If you would rather them not—”

"It has nothing to do with swimming," I keep my tone even, "and you know it."

Her wide eyes meet mine and I raise a brow in challenge.

She totally gets that this isn't about swimming. It has everything to do with her stupidity in dealing with Jackson. I'm surprised he's allowed her to continue working for him.

Tears form in her eyes. She opens her mouth, but closes it and only nods.

"Come on, Mom," Lucas begs.

"Yeah, Miss Campbell, please?" Sean pleads.

"Yeah, Mom," Jackson teases, "let them swim."

Twisting, I find him half grinning.

"Fine," I sigh, turning back to the boys. "You have an hour. Then you come back and get showers. Hopefully our stuff is here by then."

I doubt they hear the part about showering because they cheer loudly and high five one another before hugging me.

"If you’ll follow me, I'll take you two up and have someone meet us with shorts." Julia moves to walk around me.

"Are you sure you can handle them?" I can't keep the snark out of my voice.

She pauses and looks me in the eyes.

"I promise, they'll be fine."

I nod and she has the boys follow her.

"What the fuck was that about?" Jackson's question is a mixture of amusement and concern.

"Nothing." I shrug, turn, and try to walk by him, but his arm shoots out, stopping me.

"Not so fast."

He places both hands on the wall, fencing me between his arms. Turning, my back meets the wall.

"Tell me." He leans his face close to mine.

"It's nothing." I cross my arms over my chest, a useless barrier between us.

"Did she do or say something to you?" His eyes narrow.

Is he really this dumb? Doesn't he realize what could've happened to him because of her decision?

"You're serious, aren't you?" I drop my arms.

Confusion furrows his brow.

"Her decisions…that night…"

"The night I overdosed?" He drops his arms, crossing them over his chest.

I nod.

"Because they brought me back to the hotel instead of the hospital?" His eyes search my face.

Thinking about that night, my throat clogs with emotion and my vision blurs.

Clasping the sides of my face and tilting my head, his lips crash into mine. I fist his t-shirt, pulling him closer.

He slips his hands from my face, tracing the shape of my body. Releasing my mouth, he reaches down, grasps behind my thighs, and lifts me, pinning me to the wall. I wrap my arms around his neck; it's my turn to claim his mouth.

Breaking the kiss, I gasp for much-needed breaths. His forehead presses to mine.

"You're pissed at her 'cause of me?" His question is labored.

"I just think she's stupid and almost made the situation worse."

He grins, squeezing my ass.

"You're pissed at her 'cause you care about me." It's not a question this time.

I stiffen and change the subject.

"Did you buy this place?" I ask, trying to get back on my feet.

This is stupid. He's so new to sobriety and I'm sure there's a rule about relationships, even if they are purely physical.

"Leasing it." He reinforces his hold with another squeeze. "Stop squirming."

"Why?" I ask, pressing against his chest.

"Why what?"

Rolling my eyes, I stop squirming and purse my lips. "Why are you leasing the penthouse? The hotel kick you out?" I taunt.

He smiles wide.

"Just testing the idea and location." He presses his body further into mine. "I've found a pretty good reason to stick around." He holds my eyes.

"Liza," Sid calls.

I push at Jackson's chest, but he doesn't release me. Instead, he lifts his head and looks down the hall.

Sid finds us and grins. "Maybe I should just…" She points over her shoulder and starts to turn around.

"No!" I push harder at an immoveable Jackson. "We were just…" I don't know how to finish.

"Getting your freak on?" Sid humps the air, her tongue sticking out.

Jackson's laughter vibrates against my chest.

"No," I deny.

"Bow chica, bow wow!" she sings, swinging her hips.

"Will you stop?" I try not to laugh. "Jackson, put me down," I demand, going for a more annoyed tone with him.

He studies me for a brief moment, places a kiss to my lips, and releases me.

On my own two feet again, I sway—just a bit—as I walk away. Passing Sid, I wrap my arm in hers, dragging her out of the hallway and away from sex on stilts.

Chapter Nineteen

Eliza

 

"Tell me again why you aren't climbing Mt. Jackson while the boys are distracted by video games?" Sid pulls another shirt from Lucas' bag.

Looking around at the bags and boxes, I start to think they brought everything we own.

"You know why." I hang the shirt in one of the many walk-in closets.

"Oh, yeah, cause of his sobriety, your guardianship status, blah, blah, blah." She digs into the bag, pulling more clothes out.

"Blah, blah, blah?" I place a hand on one hip and raise a brow.

"Yep." She continues on to the next bag of clothes, not bothering to look up.

"I can't just…" My words fall away, unsure how to explain.

"You just can't what?" Sid finally looks up, meeting my eyes. "Can't let go of your neatly scheduled day-to-day and live for once?"

"I'd hardly call my day-to-day neat." I purse my lips, wrapping my arms around my middle.

She growls, plopping down onto one of the twin beds. "Liza, in the past ten years, the only semi-spontaneous, totally crazy thing you've done is move across the country with a baby."

"Excuse me?" My voice raises an octave. "I just performed on a stage in front of thousands of people."

"Kel and Lucas entered you into the contest. You don't get to take credit." She lies back on the bed, her arms behind her head.

"I spent the night with Jackson," I say in a whisper.

She's already shaking her head. "He came to you."

Sighing heavily, she sits up, crisscrossing her legs.

"You deal. That's your thing."

"I deal?" I sit down at the end of the bed.

"Yeah, you run your day—school, house tasks and errands, soccer, dinner, work. When things come to you—Hidden Talent and your night with Jackson, for example—you deal with them because they happen to you." Leaning forward, she takes my hand. "I love you and who you are. I just want to see you live."

"When did you become the advice giver in this relationship?" I ask.

"I don't know, but I don't think I like it." She purses her lips. "So, take my advice so we can get back to you lecturing me about my bad choices in men."

"I don't lecture," I defend. "Though, you do choose guys who don't deserve you."

"They don't need to deserve me." She grins. "I just need him to be good with his mouth and know how to swivel his hips in just the right way…"

"Paul." It's not a question, it's a confirmation.

Her mouth forms an ‘O’ shape before she says, "That's a low blow."

Guilt riddles me and I slouch.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought him up." Paul is a touchy subject and I know I shouldn't have mentioned him. I just hate how much power he holds over Sid. He always has and I pray for the day when he no longer does.

"It's okay." She shrugs, but I know, deep down, I hurt her. I also know she won't talk about it anymore. Her defenses are up and there's no crashing through that barrier.

"You think I need to live?" I redirect back to our original topic.

The familiar tingle starts at the bridge of my nose and tears pool in the corners of my eyes.

"Yeah." She nods. "You adult way too much."

A tear escapes along with a laugh, breaking the tension.

"Come on." She pats my leg. "We have your entire apartment to fit into this one."

"I know, right?" I wipe away the tear, sniff, and get back to work.

 

An hour later, most of the necessities are put away. Kel's in the converted media room behind the kitchen, the boys in the middle room, and Sid and I have taken the room at the far end of the hall. And now, we sit around the open living space, eating pizza and wings.

"I don't ever want to leave this couch." Sid snuggles into the spot where she's stretched out, her empty plate resting on her stomach.

"It is pretty great," Kel agrees, standing from next to her and grabbing the plate from her belly.

"Thanks, handsome," Sid mumbles, eyes closed.

"Want me to take yours, too?" Kel motions to the plate in my lap.

I hand it to him. "Thanks."

"You want me to help with those two?" Kel returns from the kitchen moments later.

My eyes move to where both Sean and Lucas lie sprawled out on oversized bean bag chairs.

"Yeah," I sigh, trying to figure out which one will weigh less.

"They could just sleep there," Jackson says, stretching his long, prone body. He’s lying in almost the same position as Sid, just on the other side of the couch, closest to me. Close enough that I often felt his fingers in my hair.

"I don't know." I scoot to the edge of the cushion.

"He has a point." Kel leans over the couch, his hands pressed into the back.

"I guess." I furrow my brow, not sure why I think this matters so much.

"Well, if we aren't moving them, I'm going to bed." Kel leans forward further and kisses the top of my head. "Night."

"Good night," I say, turning and watching him disappear behind the door at the far end of the kitchen.

"Sid," I call, but all I get is a soft snore. "Sid," I say a bit louder.

"What?" she grumbles.

"I'm going to bed." I stand, keeping my eyes on her and not Jackson.

"'Kay," she sighs, turning onto her side, giving me her back.

Realizing she isn't planning on moving, I kiss Lucas' head and turn toward the hallway. With a quick good night to Jackson, I walk a bit too hastily from the room.

 

 

The bed is too soft. I toss. It's too warm. I turn.

"Why am I so hot?" I growl low into the empty room.

I kick off the covers and push up to sit on the edge of the bed. Pulling the hair tie from my wrist, I twist and secure my hair on top of my head.

With a frustrated sigh, I look at the large window doors and accept my inability to fall asleep. I walk to the balcony door and slide it open, stepping out into the night. The air is warm, but not stifling.

There's a comfortable breeze swirling around the penthouse, cooling the skin my sleep shorts and tank top leave exposed. Inhaling deep, I lean against the railing, gaze up at the stars, and exhale. The sky is clear and feels so close. My hand twitches on the railing, wanting to reach out and touch.

Is Sid right? Am I so day-to-day I've forgotten to live my life? I mean, I have to take care of Lucas and Kel, and now Sean. They have school and sports, I have a job and need to have meals ready to keep on track for the…
I drop my head and sigh.
Crap! Maybe I've gotten a bit neurotic.

The heat of his body surrounds me before he says, "You're too beautiful to look so defeated." His whisper is close to my ear, each word caressing my skin.

"I'm just thinking," I whisper in response.

Escaped strands of hair are swept aside and his lips press against my exposed neck.

"I like your hair up," he states against my skin.

Squeezing my eyes shut tight, I hurdle my nerves, and ask, "What is this?"

He stills. "You mean us?"

Feeling warm and flush from embarrassment for asking, I can only nod.

Jackson moves and the breeze blows away the heat of him. I instantly miss it.

His long fingers trail down my arm until they find my hand. Lacing our fingers together, he pulls me away from the railing and around a small privacy wall. When I see the door to his room on the other side, I stop.

"Relax." He looks over his shoulder—his bare shoulder.

In fact, his torso is completely naked, every inky swirl, line, and jagged edge on display. Swallowing my nerves, I continue to follow him, taking in every inch of him. From his back to the black waist of his red boxer briefs, the colorful patterns decorating his legs all the way to his bare toes.

Thinking back to our night together, I try to recall whether his penis is the only place he's not tattooed. He stops inside his room, bringing me out of the memories of his naked body, and drops my hand.

His eyes search my face, making me self-conscious. I look away and see photos on top of his dresser. The weight of his stare follows my move to the pictures.

The first image is a gorgeous woman with a small boy at her side.

"Me and my mom," he explains. "Nicholas took the picture."

Looking back over my shoulder, I give a small smile.

"Sorry. I shouldn't just go through your things." I put the picture down.

"It's okay." He shrugs, coming over and picking up the photos.

I step back, letting him collect the photos.

"Come here," he says, motioning for me to follow him to the bed.

Taking a seat, he pats the mattress next to him.

Hesitantly, I sit down, arms holding my stomach to keep the butterflies from escaping through my belly button.

Why am I so damn nervous? I've seen him naked, had sex with him, and bathed him in an ice bath for God's sake.

"This was the first time I met Nicholas." Jackson holds up the photo. "He scared me."

"Why?" I move my eyes from the picture to his face, taking in his profile. The long, lean lines of his face. The graceful way his neck curves.

He shrugs. "I didn't know him and wasn't used to a man being around." His eyes meet mine. "As far back as I can remember, it was always just me and mom. Sort of like you and Luke."

"Luke?" I raise one brow and fight a smile.

"Lucas is nice, baby, but Luke is manlier." He grins. "We had a conversation during video games."

"Oh, really?" The smile wins, spreading over my lips.

Dropping the picture, his hand cups my face, tracing my smile with his thumb.

"I totally get the expression 'the face that launched a thousand ships'." His face comes close.

"What?" I breathe, my eyes staring at his mouth as it inches closer and closer.

"You're my Helen of Troy. The face I would launch a full-scale attack to possess." The intensity with which he says this makes me inhale sharply.

His lips are so close, I can taste his breaths.

"Your sobriety?" I whisper, pulling back a bit.

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