Page 2 of Forever and Ever

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” My eyes drop to the lanyard around her neck, and I read her name, “Mercedes Lopez.”

“It’s Merry, actually.”

I don’t miss that she’s gritting her teeth.

“Whatever you say,Mercedes,” I tease, loving the slightest shade her skin warms at my comment. It might be in irritation, but I’d still love to see a little more of it.

“What do you need with Adrian?” I ask her, curious why she’s looking for our band manager.

I’ve never been jealous of Adrian, but if he’s fucking her, then damn, I will be.

Merry uncrosses her arms and dips her thumbs into her jean pockets, which tugs them the slightest bit lower on her hips and shows off the warm skin of her stomach.

Her gaze moves down my body, taking in my bare chest, and pausing at the bulge in my pants. I could blame my erection on the coke, but the truth is, the sight of her standing in front of me is the most tempting thing I’ve ever seen, and I can’t help it.

When Merry looks back up at me, her expression is passive, and I love how nothing seems to phase her.

“He offered me a job.” She leans her back against the door frame and kicks a foot behind her to prop against it. Like she’s totally unaffected by the fact that she’s alone in a dressing room with the drummer for the biggest rock band in the world. She couldn’t seem to care less. I might as well be any other guy on the planet to her, and it’s fucking fascinating.

“You going to take it?”

“Maybe.” She shrugs one shoulder.

I reach my arms up along the back of the couch and stretch out, appreciating how her eyes trail over my chest once more. She might play coy about who I am, but there’s no doubt she likes what she sees.

“Are you always so smiley?” she asks with a scowl, and I realize I’m grinning.

“Maybe.” I cock an eyebrow. “You always so unimpressed?”

That brings the slightest tick of amusement to her face, and she wears it well.

It’s easy to see she doesn’t let people in. Everything from her stance to her expression is guarded. And while I’m sure her defenses put most people off, and that’s probably how she prefers it, all it makes me want to do is crack this chick wide open.

I want to dig inside her pretty little head until I figure out what it is that made her like this—what makes her tick, what makes her feel, what makes her happy.

Not that I know whathappyis anymore, regardless of the impression I give people. These smiles and grins I wear are all for show now. And just because I play the role of the carefree drummer well, doesn’t mean deep down I’m not suffocating.

But it’s easier this way. Smile through the emptiness and no one asks questions.

There was a time when my happiness wasn’t total bullshit. A time when I actually still wanted everything that was coming to me. There was a time when the idea of being famous sounded like a dream come true. After all, people would call me fucking crazy to think otherwise. Who doesn’t want the fame, the drugs, and the pussy?

Me.

At least, in the beginning I didn’t. All I wanted was the music.

And I wantedher.

I found the girl, fell in love, thought it was forever. And like the dumbass I was, I honestly believed it. It didn’t matter to me that I was headed out on tour and not going to see her for months on end.

Call me crazy.

Call me blinded by love.

I was ready to wait and make it happen with her when the time was right. Only, she wasn’t.

While I was busy writing music that was going to change the world, she was busy resenting me for the fame, the stage, and the groupies. And when I noticed her drifting and I asked if she was okay, she lied to me. Secretly, she was growing bitter that I wasn’t giving her the house in the suburbs and church on Sundays.

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