Vintage Volume One (18 page)

I’d taught myself that blocking out emotions was the way to live.

The sharp and splintering pain caused by the betrayal of the only two people in existence I trusted made me value the indifference I’d forced on myself.

I wished I’d never started feeling again.

I wished I’d never heard Flashing Light’s song.

But most of all, I wished I had never met Parker James.

thirty-two

I felt warmth along the length of my back as I sobbed quietly into my pillow. Or, I thought I was sobbing quietly into my pillow.

Apparently I wasn’t.

“Shh, baby. Please don’t cry.” He finger-combed my hair away from my face tenderly for a few beats. I hated how peaceful it felt to have his body against mine, his fingers smoothing back my hair.

He wrapped his arm around my torso. “What can I do?” An edge of anxiety shaded his voice.

I couldn’t pull myself together enough to respond, and having him so close to me was fucking with everything. We were crammed into a bed smaller than a twin mere feet away from the ceiling. I couldn’t move over to get away from him because there was literally nowhere for me to go.

That sunshine smell, those strong arms, that feeling of comfort. All of it added up to this person who had not only used me to get to my dad, but to this person who had lied about it. I was stuck on the lie, especially after he knew how vulnerable I was where my dad was concerned. I didn’t know how to get past that. I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to get past it.

I let him hold me, let him soothe me and whisper to me. But I didn’t say anything back. A few nice words and admission of love weren’t going to change anything.

I must have eventually cried myself to sleep, because when I opened my eyes, Parker was asleep and the bus wasn’t moving.

I wasn’t sure how to detangle myself from him without waking him, but then I realized that I didn’t care.

I checked my phone. It was a little after five in the morning. I rubbed at my eyes. They felt swollen and puffy from crying, and as I thought about the duplicity of my father and the man lying beside me, I felt a fresh wave of anger hit me.

The tears were gone for now.

The anger I felt overpowered the sadness.

I elbowed Parker in the ribs. His eyes flew open.

“Get out,” I said, my voice hoarse.

His eyes were pained, and it wasn’t from my elbow. “Don’t make me go. Please.” His eyes were pleading with me. I wanted him to stay. I wanted to forgive him. But the cut was too deep, too fresh, too painful.

I shook my head. “You’ve said what you came to say. We’re in New York now. You can go. I’m officially releasing you from your bodyguard duties.”

Parker sat up, hitting his head on the ceiling. “Fuck,” he muttered.

I almost giggled. It was comical seeing him half-asleep and forgetting that he was in an upper bunk on a tour bus. But the anger simmered, dousing any possible humor I found in the situation.

He looked over at me. I saw nothing in his eyes but love. I’d seen it there before, but I’d been too afraid to identify it. And now it sickened me. He’d never want me for anything other than my father. He’d made that pretty fucking clear.

“Just go.”

He sighed deeply, as if a weight pressed down on him, and then he climbed down from my bunk. I closed the curtain and turned over to go back to sleep.

But before I did, I had a text to fire off to my dad.

Truth’s out. You can tell Parker I don’t need a bodyguard anymore. Remember the other night when you told me that I’m the one person in the world you trust? Feeling’s not mutual.

I didn’t want his reply to wake me, so I shut off my phone, closed my eyes, and drifted back into a restless sleep.

It was the rough shaking of my shoulder that woke me up. I flipped over with a glare for Parker, but instead I met my dad’s extremely angry eyes. And it was clear that it was directed at me.

It was like looking into my own eyes. My dad’s eyes were icy blue. They looked even bluer set against his dark hair, the stubble along his chin, his tan skin. Fury stormed his expression. I’d seen that look in my dad’s eyes before, just never directed at me.

“Don’t turn off your fucking phone, Roxanna.”

His voice was fueled with rage. He
never
called me Roxanna. Ever.

I sat up, careful not to make the same mistake Parker did. I turned my phone back on. “There,” I said, waving my phone toward my dad’s face.

He swatted my hand away. “This isn’t some joke. I get that you’re upset about PJ, but I—”

“PJ?”

“Parker.” He looked at me like I had grown two heads. “Parker James,” he clarified. “PJ.”

“You’re close enough that you gave him a nickname, but you didn’t bother to tell me that you had him watching me?”

He shook his head. “I couldn’t risk it. I had no way of knowing how close you two would get.”

I rolled my eyes and climbed down from my bed. I walked past my dad toward the front of the bus. “That’s an understatement.”

“Look, CC, he feels awful. Hear him out, would you?”

I shook my head. “You’re lucky I don’t just abandon you, too. Let you figure out your own damn schedule.”

“Don’t be a brat. And keep your fucking phone on. There’s a lot going on that you don’t know about.”

“That seems to be the theme of the tour thus far,” I said, stretching my torso before collapsing on the couch in the living area.

My dad took a seat across from me in the recliner. He leaned forward, hands clasped together and elbows resting on his knees. He still looked furious, but I also saw the concern in his eyes.

“Care to inform me?” I asked.

“The fewer people who know, the better.”

I rolled my eyes. “Including me, apparently.”

He nodded. “Correct.”

“Fine. Phone’s on. But Parker, PJ, whatever the hell you want to call him, he’s out. I don’t want anything to do with him.”

“Too bad. I call the shots around here, and I need you safe. That’s why I invited you along.”

“Is Rebecca even really getting married? Or is that a lie, too?”

The slightest look of guilt crossed into his eyes. “She’s getting married. Just not this month.”

“Goddammit, Dad! You didn’t have to lie to me about everything.”

“I didn’t lie. I just left a few things out.”

“Lies of omission are still lies!” I yelled. God, these two were frustrating.

“You know not a damn thing would have changed if I handled this any other way.” He was right. I played with a fraying corner of the pillow my head rested on. “You’ve got my stubborn streak. It’s one of the things I love most about you.”

“What the hell do you think is going to happen with all these people around? I’m good. I don’t need a bodyguard.”

“I disagree. And I’m not only your father, but I’m your boss for the next four weeks. Parker stays.”

He stood up and walked toward the front of the bus. “And CC?” he said, turning around in my direction again.

I glanced up at him. He had to have seen the defiance in my eyes, the fury in my face. But he said it anyway.

“Give PJ a chance. You’re allowed to be angry at both of us, but he cares about you. A lot. Trust me on this. It’s not about me, and it hasn’t been from the moment he first saw you.”

And just like that, my dad was out the door off to who knew where while I sat alone on a tour bus meant for eight people.

I was exhausted after a shitty night’s sleep, and I had no idea where in the world I actually was. I knew we were in New York City, but I was alone on a tour bus. Everyone had to be somewhere nearby, but I sort of liked the solitude of an empty bus. Knowing my official PA duties didn’t start for a few more hours, I headed toward the bedroom at the back of the bus, stretched out on the queen-size mattress, and drifted back to sleep.

“You really gonna sleep through New York City?” The voice pulled me out of my dead sleep. Constant interruption to my sleep was the one thing I didn’t miss about being on the road.

Vanessa sat down on the bed next to me. “Did you forgive him yet?”

I shook my head.

“Why not?”

“Long story,” I said, rubbing my sleepy eyes awake. “Suffice it to say chances of forgiveness are slim.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“I really, really don’t. But thanks for asking.”

“Hey, we all need girlfriends. Consider me your bestie on the road.”

“Noted, Vanessa. Thanks.”

Parker’s head appeared in the doorway. “Can I talk to her? Alone?”

Vanessa looked over at me. “You okay with that?” she asked.

I shrugged, which caused Parker to chuckle.

Vanessa stood and left, closing the door behind her. Parker gazed at me for a minute, his eyes full of this intense heat. I’d always seen his intensity, and in the moments when I knew he wanted to fuck me, I’d seen the heat. But this was some sensual combination of everything.

“What do you want?” I asked bluntly.

“Just a few minutes of your time. I’ll keep it brief.”

I didn’t bother acknowledging his sentence. He was going to talk, and I was going to sit and listen. Why? Because I didn’t have a goddamn choice. Daddy’s orders.

I snuggled back down under the blankets. Parker sat on the edge of the bed, keeping his gaze on me.

“Gideon said that this doesn’t change things. I’ve been thinking about this all night, and I can’t come up with any conceivable way of making both you and your dad happy.”

“So he wins. As usual.”

“There aren’t any winners in this, Jimi.”

“Don’t call me that.” My voice was sharp. Sharper than I’d intended.

“Here’s the problem. Every time I get close to you, I can’t help but want to feel your body against mine. I can’t help but want to hold you, to kiss you, to make love to you. I hate myself for it. I hate myself as much as you hate me. But I was asked to protect you, and I plan to hold up my end of the deal.”

He paused. It was like he was waiting for some reaction from me. I didn’t give him one.

“We can do this one of two ways,” he continued. “We can do this the fun way, or we can do this the hard way.”

“Fun for who?”

“For both of us, Rox. We can see the eastern half of the states together. We can enjoy this tour together. We can sightsee. We can find Mexican restaurants where I can order a cheeseburger. We can get frozen yogurt and judge each other’s toppings. We’ve had fun together from the beginning. Let’s not let that stop now. I get if you don’t want to be with me right now, but you’re stuck with me. Why can’t we try being friends? Why can’t we try being civil?”

“You have got to be kidding.” It was instinctual to say that, even though every little thing he’d just said to me sounded perfect.

Except the “friends” part.

Despite the lies, despite the betrayal, a teeny, tiny thought niggled in my mind.

As much as he had hurt me, I still wanted Parker James.

“Come on, baby. Let’s get out and see New York City.”

There was no show that night, which meant we were in New York City and free to do whatever we wanted.

Rebecca had booked a room for my dad and another for myself at the Four Seasons in New York City. I wanted to go check into my hotel, run a hot bath, and soak for the rest of the night with a good book. But definitely not with the man sitting in front of me.

At least that’s what I told myself.

thirty-three

I lay in my king-size bed in a bathrobe by myself later that night feeling very alone. The television spoke softly to me, but that was my only company.

Parker couldn’t be far. He was still assigned to watch over me, so if I was staying in, he would be, too. For all I knew, he was sitting outside my door.

I thought about checking the peephole, but I didn’t have the energy to get out of bed.

I was lethargic. I glanced over at the clock. It was about dinnertime, but I had no motivation to put on clothes. Times Square was literally a mile away from my window. I glanced over at the city outside.

I should be out there, fighting my way through the crowds, my hand warm in Parker’s. Instead, I was punishing us both.

I’d been to New York City before, and the energy always invigorated me. But it had little chance of invigorating me if I didn’t leave my hotel room.

We had three more nights in New York after this one. We had concerts scheduled the next two nights at Madison Square Garden, but the last night was another free night. I’d feel better then. I’d go out then.

At least that’s what I told myself. Who knew if I’d feel any better by then?

A soft knock at my door forced me to get up. I looked through the peephole. “What do you want, Parker?” I spoke through the door. I heard a soft thud from the other side.

“I’m going to dinner. Do you want to come with me?”

I tightened the belt on my robe, unlocked the deadbolt, and opened the door.

Parker let out a growl. “Christ Jesus, Jimi. Tell me you’re wearing something under that.”

I shook my head. “I’m not.”

“Fuck my life,” he muttered.

I turned around so he wouldn’t see my tiny smile. As much as I didn’t feel like smiling, he still managed to prompt one.

I walked back into the room and curled into the chair that faced the window, drawing my legs up under me.

Parker cleared his throat. “So, uh, dinner?”

“Not hungry,” I lied.

“Then come keep me company. Please?”

His tone made me change my mind. It was some mix of frustration and hurt and pain. It forced me to realize that he actually was suffering through this.

If he didn’t care about me, he wouldn’t be here asking me to go with him. He’d gotten what he wanted. He was on tour with Black Shadow. He could’ve just ordered room service and avoided me.

And he was here protecting me or loving me or wanting me, but I was too hurt to let him in.

“Can I ask you a question?” I finally asked.

He nodded.

“If I say no, am I stuck with you tonight anyway?”

“You always have a choice, Jimi. But choices inevitably come with consequences. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll sit outside your door all night if I have to, but it might be a little more fun for both of us to get out of here for a little while.”

“I’ll go to dinner because I need nutrition to survive, not because I want to spend time with you.”

His eyebrows shot up. He was shocked that I’d agreed to go.

“Let me just get dressed.”

“Don’t do that on my account,” he said, a sexy grin spreading across his face.

Fuck him and his hot face.

I grabbed some clean underwear, a t-shirt, and jeans from my suitcase and changed in the bathroom. I touched up my make-up and ran a brush through my hair, ultimately deciding to pull it back into a messy ponytail. I neatly hung my robe on the back of my door.

I met Parker back in the main area of my suite. He was flipping through the television channels mindlessly as he leaned back against the headboard, his legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. I studied him for a moment before moving fully into the room.

He had the whole brooding bad boy thing going on. His dark hair was wavy and messy. A little bit of scruff outlined his jaw. His dark eyes were focused ahead on the television, but I could tell he had something on his mind.

I wondered if it was me.

I tore my eyes away from the drink that did nothing to quench my thirst for him and walked past him to my suitcase. I pulled out a pair of Toms and stuck them on my feet, zipped up my suitcase, and shut the curtains on the windows. I was ready to go.

“Pizza okay?” he asked, turning off the television and standing when he saw that I was ready.

I nodded. “Fine with me.”

“I know a place near Times Square. You up for it?”

I shrugged, and he laughed.

I stuck my hotel room keycard in my wristlet with my wallet, my cell phone, some lip balm, and a pack of gum.

We walked toward the elevators, and Parker hit the call button.

The doors slid open, and we walked on alone.

I felt his eyes on me, but I stared at the numbers on the electronic dial. Anything not to acknowledge that we were in a tiny space together that was obviously filled with sexual tension.

We finally arrived at the lobby and Parker held the door open for me. “Cab or walk?”

“How far?” I asked.

“About a mile.”

“Walk.” I wanted to stretch my legs. A little exercise always helped refresh me, and just the smell of New York City gave me a little energy back.

The sidewalks were crowded with tourists and locals making their way to their destinations. Parker and I weaved in and out of them, always side by side but never touching.

The walk was brisk and had enough of a crowd to prevent conversation as we made our way to the restaurant. It was one of those places where patrons placed orders at the counter and the servers dished it right up. After Parker paid our tab, we grabbed some sodas and found an empty booth.

I took a bite of the steaming hot square of pepperoni pizza in front of me and moaned in ecstasy. It was possibly the best slice of pizza I’d ever tasted.

Parker visibly shifted in his seat, staring at me as I enjoyed my food. He muttered something under his breath that I missed.

“Excuse me?” I asked between bites, taking a sip of Coke.

“You definitely know how to torture a man.”

I smirked at him and turned my attention to my food, doing my best to ignore him for the rest of my meal.

It was when we were walking back to the hotel that I felt a strange sensation that made the hair on the back of my neck stand at attention.

I glanced around, trying to pinpoint the source of the sensation. I was certain someone was watching me.

Maybe it was just paparazzi. People knew Black Shadow was in town. People knew who I was, even though they generally left me alone.

But this felt different. It was darker. Scarier.

Parker looked over at me and saw the panic written in my eyes. I saw a flash of fear in his eyes, too. That look told me he felt it, too. He looked around us, and I instinctively moved in a little closer to him. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder.

I froze, not because of the strange feeling that I was being watched.

It was because Parker’s arm was around me and I wasn’t prepared to deal with what that could mean. I was still trying to stitch the gaping hole he’d left when he’d cut through my heart. Even if I wanted to forgive and forget, the wound was too fresh.

The pain that lanced through my chest when his arm was around me was too much. I stepped away from him, out of his grasp. He gave me a look that clearly told me to get the fuck back into his arms, but I couldn’t.

I knew from the beginning that Parker and I would be dangerous for one another, and I was right. It was silly to think that this could have turned out any other way, but the moment Parker and I moved beyond friendship, this moment of suffering was inevitable.

He couldn’t have lied to me forever. Eventually I would have learned the truth about why he’d crashed into my life. Eventually I would have felt this betrayal. And if he’d have been up front with me, I’d never have given him the time of day, let alone the kind of access to my body, my thoughts, and my heart that I’d handed over on a silver platter.

I stalked on ahead of him, our moment on the street together gone.

He followed me through the front doors of the Four Seasons and toward the elevator. I seethed with anger.

“Can I just walk you up to your room and check it before you kick me out?” he asked once the elevator doors shut us in.

I folded my arms across my chest, refusing to look at him.

Because I knew that it would only take one look from him, and I’d break. I wanted him to wrap me in his arms, to kiss me, to run his tongue along every crevice of my body, to fuck me.

I wanted his protection again.

But I hated him. I hated what he’d done. I hated that he’d conspired behind my back, that he’d known things about me that not even I did.

I pulled my key out of my wristlet and practically ran down the hallway to my room once the elevator doors opened.

I stuck the card in the slot and opened the door after I got the green light. I didn’t bother to hold the door for Parker, but he still made it in behind me.

I glanced around my room. Something was off, but I wasn’t sure what it was. Parker stared at the windows.

“Motherfucker,” he said, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket and shooting off a text.

“What?” I asked.

I gazed out the windows, trying to figure out what his deal was.

And that’s when I realized that my curtains were open.

I specifically remembered shutting them before I left.

I looked for more clues. I heard Parker’s phone ding with text as I glanced around my room.

The lid of my suitcase was askew, as if I’d left in a bit of a rush.

I had zipped it shut before I left.

Someone had been in my room.

It had to have been the maid. They had to have come in for turndown service. But even as I thought it, I knew that couldn’t be it. Rebecca always specifically requested no turndown service upon check-in at my dad’s request. It was easier to make the same request for all of the rooms she booked.

I ran to the bathroom. If there were fresh towels, that meant it was the maid service. I’d chalk it up to miscommunication with the check-in staff.

The bathrobe I’d hung neatly on the back of the door still neatly where I’d left it. The hand towels I’d thrown on the counter were still on the counter. And the bath towel I’d tossed on the floor after my bath was still there, exactly where I’d left it.

It wasn’t maid service. But someone had definitely been in my room while Parker and I ate our pizza.

I had no idea if they’d taken something. I had no idea what they were looking for. But I was certain someone had been in there.

A tremor of fear raced up my spine.

“I know you’re going to be opposed to this, but you’re coming to my room for the night.” Parker’s voice broke into my thoughts. I was wringing one of the hand towels in my hands anxiously.

I nodded.

He was, after all, hired to protect me.

And as much as I didn’t want to be near him, I needed him to do his job.

I needed him to protect me.