Page 8 of Patchwork
“Right,” I say, but something inside me is already telling me that one night with Hero isn’t going to be enough.
Chapter 4
PRESENT
HERO
Threemonths.Threefuckingmonths with Onyx right here in Fall Crosse? I try to wrap my head around it while he picks at his fries and grins at me across the table every time he catches me staring. I’ve hardly touched my food. I’m not even sure if I’m hungry anymore or not. I’m not sure of anything. Starting with why exactly he wants to spend three monthshere.
“Is your apartment in Seattle being renovated or something?” I finally pick a fry off my own plate and stuff it into my mouth.
“No.” He laughs, picking up his burger to take a bite.
“Did you do something scandalous and now you need somewhere to hide out so the paparazzi can’t harass you when the story breaks?” I take another stab at his possible motivations.
“I mean, there was that multi-gender orgy that got out of hand a few weeks ago,” he deadpans, then kicks me under the table.
“Ow,” I yelp. “What the hell was that for?”
“If you don’t want me here, just say so.” The humor is gone and something vulnerable dances in his eyes instead.
“Shit, no, that’s not what I’m saying.” I inch my hand across the table to brush my fingertips against his. “I’m just confused. Why the hell would you want to spend three months in Fall Crosse?”
“The tour is over, and my contract says I don’t have to be back in the studio to record anything new yet.” He shrugs, but there’s something cagey about the way he avoids eye contact. There’s something he’s not saying, I just don’t have the first clue what it could be.
“Okay, but there have to be a million other places in the world more exciting than here. Don’t get me wrong, I love Fall Crosse, but…” I shake my head and chuckle.
“But what?”
But I’m not a thirty-year-old rockstar. I don’t say that out loud, just shake my head again and creep my hand another inch closer so I can properly twine my fingers around his.
“Nothing. No pressure though, okay? If you’re bored next week and want to take off, no hard feelings.” That’s reasonable, right? I’m not trying to pin Onyx down—I’m not that fucking stupid. I’ll take whatever amount of time he feels like being here though.
“Sure, no pressure.” He licks the salt and grease off of his lips, and I follow the path of his tongue with my eyes.
“Good. Do you have somewhere you’re planning to stay?” There’s only one motel in town and it’s not exactly the Ritz. It’s barely even a Motel 6.
“I was kind of hoping there would be room in your bed. But if you want me to get a hotel room, I can.”
“No.” I answer quickly, not wanting to give him any time to entertain the idea of staying anywhere else. “You can stay with me.”
Three months of waking up next to Onyx every morning? Three months of falling asleep together every night? Three months of having him there when I get home from work, watching movies, going for motorcycle rides… It sounds too fucking good to be true. A needy feeling swells in my chest and almost makes me reconsider letting him stay. I could get pretty damn attached to him in three months. I could easily make a fool of myself when it’s time for him to leave again.
“I have no clue how to take that scowl. Are you trying to figure out how to break it to your boyfriend that you’re going to have a rockstar sleeping over or what?” He chuckles, but the tightness around his eyes makes me think he’s actually worried about it.
I relax my face and squeeze his fingers. “No, sorry, just overthinking shit. I want you to stay with me. I hope you’re not expecting my place to be anything fancy though.”
“You forget I grew up here. Your place is probably exactly like the house I lived in. I’m excited to see it.” He nudges my foot with his and squeezes my fingers back.
I’m sure I could easily sit here and come up with at least a dozen other potential issues or roadblocks, but Onyx seems chill about this whole thing, so I’m just going to follow his lead and try not to overthink it. What kind of fucking idiot would stress his way out of three months of sex with the most gorgeous man alive? Couldn’t be me.
I force every last bit of worry to the back of my mind and finally dig into my food properly.
“So, tell me about the tour,” I say around a bite of my burger.
“Not much to tell. Gray and Jade areonagain, so they’re back to being fucking unbearable to the rest of the band. Jettdeals with it by smoking massive amounts of weed, which is fine, but I wish he’d switch to edibles because the smell gives me a migraine. And I’m pretty sure Ziggy, our manager, is two seconds from quitting. So, all in all, business as usual.” There’s always a little growl of frustration in his voice whenever he talks about his bandmates. I don’t know if I watched too muchBehind the Musicgrowing up or not enough, because I thought bandmates were supposed to be bonded for life, but as far as I can tell, Black Sheep are more like dysfunctional coworkers than anything else.
“That sucks,” I sigh sympathetically.
