Page 101 of Rock Out Together
Lizzy downed the rest of her Jack and Coke and pushed her glass across the bar. “There’s your one drink.”
She turned to leave, but he stopped her. She stared down at his hand wrapped around her upper arm, her eyes slowly looked up and met his, and he saw her weaken. Her full, red lips were slightly parted, and she let out a small sigh. “Don’t,” she whispered. “Let’s just get out of here.”
He reluctantly let go of her arm. It was rare that Lizzy didn’t hide behind the wall that shielded her emotions, but, for a brief moment, he saw the vulnerability in her eyes when she looked at him.
Just as fast as her softer side made an appearance, it vanished, and she beckoned to the security guards that accompanied them at the bar. “I hope you brought your riot gear, because there’s a herd of people in the lobby.”
Extra security stepped in, and the entourage shrouded them toward the elevator in a tight bubble. Walter always booked the entire hotel floor for the band and had security stationed in the hallway 24/7, so they were safe once on the elevator.
Noise from the goodbye party taking place in one of the rooms flooded the hallway as soon as they reached their floor. It came from Walter’s suite. Dillon motioned toward the loud music and chatter. “Do you want to stop in for one more round?”
She gave him a wry smile. “You don’t give up.”
He smiled back. “I just want to see if Zach and Sid showed up, or if they took the first flight out of here.” He nudged her with his elbow. “Come on. Do you really want to miss seeing Sid with two black eyes?”
“Zach was already booked on the first flight out, and you know Sid would never show up with a broken nose. He’s probably having his own private celebration with some professionals that Walter procured for him.” Her provocative smile returned. “I think you’re just trying to get me drunk again.”
“I can’t fool you for a minute,” he teased. He wasn’t trying to get her drunk, but a little extra alcohol would let her relax. She was always so wound up. He wanted her to know that she could be herself around him and not on edge. She didn’t need to be Lizzy Stone, kick-ass heavy metal maven, all the time.
“You don’t have to walk me to my room, Dillon. I’m not going to get attacked by a crazed fan. Only VIP invitees made it up here for the party.”
The words weren’t out of her mouth for more than 30 seconds before the door to Walter’s suite opened, and a very drunk couple stumbled into the hallway. The two zig-zagged past Dillon and Lizzy toward the elevator, periodically bouncing off the walls.
“See?” Dillon pointed his thumb at the inebriated pair. “A stalker could have crashed the party and could be waiting in your room right now. I better check and make sure it’s all clear.”
He got her to laugh, and she handed him her room key. “Go ahead. Play the hero.”
He slid the card across the screen and walked inside first, making a show to eyeball the surrounding living area and kitchenette. He spotted a bottle of champagne on ice and a gift basket full of sweets sitting on the credenza against the wall and headed toward it. He’d ordered the champagne earlier and instructed it to be delivered to Lizzy’s room, but not the gift basket. “You had this all planned,” he teased. “The champagne. The snacks. You had every intention of inviting me back to your room again.”
“I never invited you into my room last night.” She snatched the little card off the gift basket and studied it. “It’s from Walter. You probably have one just like it in your room.” She looked at the bottle on ice. “I know Walter didn’t send this. Are you responsible for the champagne?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She saw through his ploy and shook her head slightly, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Thank you for making sure no one was lurking in my room,” she said, dismissively. “Good night.”
“It’s all clear out here.” He motioned to the open area of the suite. “But I should probably check the bedroom before I go.”
She rolled her eyes. “I think you’re just not used to having to work so hard for attention.”
“You’re a hard nut to crack, Lizzy.”
“Good night, Dillon.” She guided him toward the door with one hand on his arm and one hand on his back.
He stopped in the open doorway and turned back to look at her. Her face was blank and unreadable, but her eyes said everything he wanted to hear. They were blazing at him, inviting him to stay, but she was fighting it. “Stop listening to what your stubborn head is telling you and listen to your heart for once.”
She blinked, surprised at his statement but didn’t reply, so he continued.
“You can trust me.” He wanted to kiss her, but if he moved too fast, before she was ready, he’d blow it and probably never get another chance. She needed to make the next move, which would decide their fate. Good or bad, it needed to be her decision. As he gazed at her, waiting for what would happen next, her cheeks turned a pale shade of pink, and her breath grew heavier. And that was the sign he was waiting for.
seven
. . .
Lizzy
Lizzy wastired of the battle between her head and her heart. It was exhausting, and she didn’t have any fight left in her. Her insides were a washing machine of contradictory emotions. On top of the turmoil of the band’s dissolution, she’d been assaulted with these new feelings for Dillon that had her thoughts reeling.
He’d been chipping away at the brick wall that protected her heart all day. There was little resistance left. A good jolt and it would crumble. The silhouette of him standing in the doorway, with the realization that after tomorrow she may never see him again, almost did her in. His long hair fell over one shoulder. His brown eyes were as warm as the sun, and the hard, round muscles of his chest pulled at his T-shirt.
