Page 87 of Rock Out Together
“Fair enough.” His smile never waned. “Let’s just have breakfast. What’s the harm? It’s our last day together.”
“Together? There is no together. We’re not a couple.”
“Would that be so bad?”
Her brows arched high on her forehead, but she didn’t reply, and he knew he was pushing her too far, too soon.
“All right,” he conceded. “Let’s just have coffee. We don’t have to order room service. No one has to know what happened. A cup of coffee. After over a decade on the road together, can’t we sit down and share a cup of coffee without there being an ulterior motive?”
She stared at him for a moment, then let out a deep breath. Without taking her eyes off him, she sat at the breakfast bar and nodded at the chair next to her, inviting him to sit down.
They sat in silence while he waited for her stiff posture to slacken. After about a minute, she exhaled and closed her eyes as she tried to hide the awkward smile that was slowly tugging at the corners of her mouth.
Finally, it broke through, and it was beautiful.
“This is so ridiculous that I have to laugh,” she said, shaking her head.
Relieved, he smiled back at her. “Why is it ridiculous? Why do you think it’s ridiculous for us to be in a relationship?”
Her mouth hung open, and her eyes widened. “Because we hate each other. And we’re not in a relationship.”
“We could be. And we don’t hate each other. That’s not true. Why would you feel that way?” He knew they argued regularly, but it stemmed from the dysfunctional dynamic within the band. They were all superstars whose personalities clashed on an epic level. But he never expected her to use the word “hate,” and his eyes widened with shock at the harshness of it.
“Well, for one thing, we fight all the time. The other day we had a 20-minute argument about the name of the bus driver on our last tour.”
He chuckled at the memory. “We weren’t arguing. It was just banter. Like couples do.”
Her jaw dropped.
Maybe the “couple” remark went a little too far. He hadn’t exactly let on that he had feelings for her all these years because he didn’t want any added drama when it came to the band, but she had to know. She had to suspect something. Surely, she felt the chemistry.
He wanted to reach for her hand but thought better of it. “Lizzy . . . I care about you. I think you know that. And I think you feel something for me too, so stop pretending.”
She lowered her eyes and twisted her interlaced fingers.Clearly uncomfortable with the topic, she fidgeted for a bit before letting out a deep breath. “OK. I admit there’s been an undercurrent of sexual tension between us in the past. At times.” She lifted her gaze, her eyes now hard. “But that was a long time ago. There’s also been a ton of animosity and some major fights. Especially these last five years. We can barely have a conversation without it turning into a disagreement. I had too much to drink last night. We both did. Tonight’s our last show. The loss hit me hard, and the alcohol amplified everything. My emotions got the better of me. But it was only one night. That’s it, Dillon. You’re reading too much into it. Last night didn’t mean anything.”
“Don’t say that.” Her words cut him—stabbed at his heart—but he knew she didn’t mean them. It was her defense mechanism kicking in. He wasn’t giving up. He just needed time to break down the walls that she built around her heart. “Think about it. Think about us.” He gave her one of his amazing smiles. “It could be pretty great.”
She rubbed her temples with her fingers and looked down at the table. “I have such a headache, Dillon, and we have to be at the venue in a few hours. We’ve been in Vegas for one night and my head is spinning.” She turned toward the large wall of windows across the room which offered a dynamic view of the Las Vegas Strip. She leaned her elbow on the table and placed her chin in her hand and sighed. “Now I know why they call this place Sin City.”
three
. . .
Dillon
Dillon wasfirst to enter the limousine and took a seat toward the front of the vehicle. He knew Sid and Zach would take the two end seats by the doors, and Lizzy would never sit between them. This position provided the best chance that she’d sit near him.
He poured himself a vodka over ice, took a big gulp, and waited. While he sat there alone, he reflected on what happened last night and this morning with Lizzy. She was finally starting to relax around him. Maybe she was even beginning to trust him. He ran his hand across his short stubble. At least that’s what he hoped.
The car door opened, and Zach stumbled inside. He plopped down right next to the window, oblivious to the fact that two other people still needed to enter the vehicle. They gave each other a small nod of the head. It wasn’t a friendly gesture. It was cold and standoffish, but it acknowledged theother’s presence. Friendship was long gone. Tolerance described their relationship at best.
Lizzy entered the limo from the street side, since the driver knew Zach blocked the other door. She purposely avoided eye contact with anyone, which wasn’t unusual. Dillon hoped she would sit next to him, but she was playing it cool and sat along the long bench seat midway between him and Zach.
She wore her rock star persona. Her deep red hair was thick and wild and sprawled over her shoulders. Her dark lipstick accentuated her full lips, and the heavy black eyeliner made her eyes seem harder than they really were. Her black jeans fit her like a second skin, and her black leather halter top showed off her tattooed shoulders. She sat back and stared straight ahead, as if no one else were in the car.
Dillon found her aloof indifference entertaining and couldn’t hide the smile that crossed his lips. She must have seen it out of the corner of her eye because she turned a quarter of the way toward him before she caught herself and turned back around.
Dillon moved closer to her. “There’s champagne if you want.”
