Page 21 of Saving the Rockstar

I wanted to follow that trail with my fingertips, my tongue. Wanted to map every ridge and valley of him, learn the texture and taste of his skin until I could recreate it from memory alone.

I wanted him under me, over me, any way I could get him. Wanted to feel all that coiled strength and power bearing down on me, holding me together even as it took me apart.

Dimly, I registered that I was staring - gawking, really, my jaw practically on the floor as I ate him alive with my eyes. But I couldn't seem to stop, couldn't tear my gaze away from the feast laid out before me. It was like trying to look away from the sun, or an oncoming train. Futile and mesmerizing in equal measure.

And then Jared turned, one hand coming up to sweep his dripping hair back from his face, and caught me dead in my tracks, his eyes widening as they met mine.

For a moment, we just stared at each other, frozen in place like figures in a tableau. I could feel the heat flooding my cheeks, the tips of my ears, a mortified flush spreading all the way down my chest. My tongue sat heavy and useless in my mouth.

I couldn't force my lips to move, couldn't wrench my eyes away from the riveting sight of him. I could’ve sworn I saw something flicker in his gaze.

Something hot and hungry, a spark of unmistakable want flaring to life in those depths. It was there and gone in an instant, so quick I might have imagined it - a trick of the light, or my own fevered projections.

"I, uh. I was just looking for..." Frantically, my gaze darted around the room, landing on a random toiletry bag. "Floss! I was looking for floss."

Jared's other eyebrow crept up to join the first. He looked pointedly at the pack of floss sitting on the counter, easily within my reach.

"Right. Yes. There it is. I'll just get out of your way." Face on fire, I snatched the floss and backed out of the room so fast I nearly tripped over my own feet.

The door snicked shut behind me. I thunked my forehead against it, squeezing my eyes shut. "Smooth, Asher," I muttered. "Real fucking smooth."

It was fine. I was fine. So what if I'd just made a complete ass of myself ogling my extremely straight bodyguard? It wasn't like I'd been harboring secret fantasies of Jared pinning me to the nearest flat surface and having his wicked way with me.

Jared emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, a towel slung low on his hips. I heroically kept my eyes above his collarbones, even as I caught a whiff of his clean, masculine scent.

When he returned again minutes later, he had mercifully donned a pair of low-slung pajama pants. He sprawled on the bed closest to the door, long legs stretched out and arms folded behind his head.

His casual pose only highlighted the defined musculature of his arms, the lean stretch of his torso, and the bulge in his pants. I averted my gaze quickly, my tenuous calm already slipping.

"I don't know about you, but I'm starving," Jared announced. "Room service?"

"God, yes." Food was a safe topic. I could handle talking about food. "I could murder a cheeseburger right now."

As we demolished our burgers and made easy conversation, I started opening up to him in a way I rarely did with anyone.

"When I first started gaining some recognition in the industry, my parents suddenly wanted to be a part of my life again," I said, picking at a stray fry. "They'd kicked me out for being gay, but the second I had a little bit of clout? They were blowing up my phone, trying to make nice."

Jared made a disgusted noise. "Let me guess. They wanted to ride your coattails?"

I huffed a humorless laugh. "My mom even had the nerve to cry to the tabloids about what an ungrateful son I was for not wanting a relationship with them. Never mind that they couldn't even be bothered to remember my fucking birthday half the time."

The old hurt welled up, as fresh as if it had happened yesterday. I could still picture with crystalline clarity the moment I'd realized, at age twelve, that my parents had forgotten my birthday entirely.

No party, no presents, not even a hasty grocery store cake. Just me, alone in my room, waiting for an acknowledgment that never came.

Jared's hand landed on my knee, squeezing gently. "You deserved so much better than that."

I shrugged, trying for unaffected. "I learned early on not to expect much from them."

"Still. That's a shitty thing to do to a kid." Jared's thumb rubbed absent circles over my kneecap, sending sparks of awareness up my thigh. "For what it's worth, I think you turned out pretty damn amazing, despite them."

My face heated. "What about you? You close with your folks?"

Something shuttered in Jared's expression. "Not exactly. We had a falling out when I enlisted. They didn't approve of me going into the military."

I winced. "Shit. I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "I've made my peace with it." But there was a hint of old pain in his eyes, a glimpse of the hurt he kept carefully hidden.

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