Page 36 of Patchwork
“Okay, yeah, we should come to the farmers’ market every weekend and eat these scones.” The words coming out of my mouth don’t hit me until it’s too late. I hurry to correct myself. “I mean every weekend until you have to leave.”
Onyx nods and smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Something is bothering him, but I’m afraid to ask what. Maybe he can tell that I’m already too attached and he’s trying to work out how to let me down gently?
“I’ll never say no to farmers’ market scones,” he says lightly after a second, taking another big bite then grabbing a four pack for the vendor to ring up and stuffing that into his bag.
I reach for his hand again and we fall back into the peaceful rhythm of exploring each booth and picking out what we want to make for dinner. We come across Journey and Red’s booth too, another couple of my friends. They have an array of alpaca wool products, including socks, blankets, and sweaters. Onyx gushes over one of the blankets, so I buy it for him, imagining the two of us wrapped up in it with a fire blazing in the fireplace while it snows outside.
“Can I ask you something?” To be honest, there are a dozen different questions in my head right now and I’m not even sure which one is about to spill out when Onyx nods and then looks at me expectantly. “What you said last night… How long?”
Both of his eyebrows shoot up and a grin spreads slowly across his lips.
“You really want to know?”
“No,” I laugh. “But tell me anyway.”
I brace myself for whatever answer he might give. I’ve never expected this casual patchwork of hookups to be exclusive on his end.
“A little over four years.”
My heart leaps and I bark out another laugh. “No way.” I shake my head. “You haven’t hooked up with anyone but me since we met?”
He grabs a handful of the front of my shirt and leans in closer with a playfully threatening look on his face.
“You calling me a liar, sweetness?”
“No, it’s just hard to believe. I’ve seen what it’s like backstage after your shows…”
He shrugs. “Groupies were fun early on, but it got old fast. For me, anyway. Obviously Jett and Gray are into it, and Jade loves the drama. But honestly, all I want to do is play music. The rest of it…” Onyx shakes his head and tugs his lip ring between his teeth. “Besides, you kind of ruined me for all of the fumbling, overeager fanboys.”
I slide my hands over his ass and pull him against me. Can he feel how hard my heart is beating? Can he see it written all over my face how wild I am about him? That he’s fucking ruined me for anyone else too? It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him, to just confess it all and deal with whatever his reaction might be, but that little voice in the back of my head won’t stop reminding me that just because he doesn’t want to fuck anyone else doesn’tmean he wants to give up everything else for whatever this is between us.
There’s something he’s holding back from saying too, I just don’t know what it is. All these unspoken words clutter the space between us until Onyx’s smile fades, and he brushes a kiss to my lips.
“Come on, let’s go find the bratwurst guy.”
Chapter 17
2.5 YEARS AGO
HERO
Thestagelightsilluminateevery drop of sweat on Onyx’s face, his hair clinging to his damp forehead, his muscles moving in a mesmerizing pattern with every strum of his guitar. The crowd around me screams, some of them singing along, others just shrieking from excitement. Someone a row behind me shouts a marriage proposal to Onyx that I’m sure he can’t hear over the music and the echoes in the amphitheater. For a second I wonder what the hell I’m doing here, letting myself get lost in a sea of people who I’m sure would all kill to get their hands on Onyx. Even more baffling, why would he invite me here when all it would take is a wink and a crook of his finger to have anyone in this place?
He shakes his head to unstick his damp hair from his forehead, and then his eyes meet mine and it feels like all two thousand some people around us vanish. It’s just me and him, and the crooked smile curling his lips. My whole body hums withthe urge to climb onto the stage and pull him into my arms. Six months without kissing him feels like an entire fucking lifetime.
One song fades into another, and Onyx’s gaze wanders to mine again and again.
“Holy shit, I think Onyx Hart is looking at me,” the woman next to me gushes to her friend. “Did you see those ‘fuck me’ eyes he just threw this way?”
“No way, he was looking at me,” her friend argues.
They don’t see the smug smile on my face, but Onyx does. He winks at me, and both women squeal.
“I would literally murder my entire family for five minutes alone with him,” the first woman whimpers.
I turn my laughter into a cough. Does Onyx know the kind of sway he has over people? With his devastating, rockstar good looks and that captivating smile, I doubt the woman next to me is the only one who would kill and die for him. Hell, I think I would too.
By the time the show wraps up, I’m ready to crawl out of my skin just to get to him. When he mailed me the ticket, he sent a backstage pass along with it, so as soon as the lights come up, I move against the crowd towards the stage door.
