Page 95 of Loved Out Loud
“He got upset when I wouldn’t bring him up to my room because I’m staying with you.”
“I see.” He puts two fingers under my chin, lifting until our eyes meet. “What else did he say?”
“Just a bunch of unimportant stuff. It was all meant to hurt me, and he obviously succeeded.”
“I’m sorry.” His thumb ghosts over my lips. “He’s lucky I didn’t see him.”
“Why?” My lips lift into a half smile. “Were you going to fight for my honor?”
“Yes.”
He’s serious. I see it in the set of his expression. He would have thrown punches again on my behalf if it came down to it. I’m not sure how I feel about that.
No, that’s a lie. I feel grateful. I feel cared for. He opens his arms, and I step into them. His warm skin feels so good against mine.
“Don’t let me go,” I whisper.
“Never,” he answers firmly.
He leads me into the bedroom and pulls back the covers. I’ll regret it in the morning, but I pull the towel off my hair and lay down without drying or combing it. He pulls the towel off his hips and gets in bed. I turn the lamp off and drop my towel, too. His arms stretch out and wrap around me, pulling me until my back is against his front. I feel his dick twitch against my backside.
“Ignore him. He never knows how to read a room.” He kisses my shoulder.
I laugh quietly even as more tears sting my eyes until I fall asleep.
Thirty
STONE
The restof our week in Chicago goes by in a blur. As does Minneapolis. Hazel loses herself to the world she’s writing every night. I spend the time she’s working either polishing lyrics or working on the music with Xan and Tobias. Between the three of us, we damn near have enough material for a double album.
I watch Hazel closely as time passes. Even though she’s working, laughing, existing as normal, I feel that she’s off. Between the bullshit with her dad and Greg, she’s lost the spark that came alive the first few weeks of the tour.
She shows up for her readers with the same gorgeous smile and irresistible wit. As she’s gotten comfortable with fan interaction, they’ve become even more obsessed with her work. A few moments from the signing in the romance bookstore in Chicago have gone viral on social media, rocketing her numbers back to the top of the charts.
Even with all that, though, I’ve found her silently crying several times. It fucking guts me to walk into a room and see her staring out the window with tear tracks running down her cheeks. Which is why I’m flying in a surprise for her in Kansas City.
I look down at my phone and open the flight tracking app to watch the progress of the private jet carrying the three most important people in Hazel’s life. When I shared my idea with Sierra earlier this week, she was immediately on board with surprising Hazel with Barbara and Beverly.
When they get within twenty minutes of arrival, I sneak out of our suite with Adam. Hazel’s so deep in writing she probably wouldn’t notice the fire alarm blaring, so it’s not hard to do. In the lobby I go ahead and check them into the Presidential suite of the hotel, so they don’t have to do a single thing on this trip.
The executive airport is right downtown here, so we only have to cross the river to get there. The drive takes mere minutes. Nerves flutter inside me the closer we get, I haven’t met the parents of anyone I’ve dated since I was a teenager taking prom photos with my date. Knowing how close Hazel is with her mom and grandma ramps up the pressure.
The driver waits at an automated gate as the plane pulls up. Once the engines are off, we drive up and the stairs are lowered. I swallow nervously and push my door open.
A small, dark haired woman emerges first. It must be Beverly, she favors her left leg, and I rush to offer her my hand when she gets to the bottom two steps.
“Hello, I’m Tyler.” I flash a smile at her when she places her hand in mine, and I help her down to the ground.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Beverly,” she confirms my thought. “Hazel’s grandmother.”
“Pleasure is all mine.” Honestly, if it weren’t for knowing that she’d recently had her hip replaced, I might not have evenrealized she was Hazel’s grandma. She looks fantastic for being a woman in her eighties.
“Hi,” I tell the next woman who fills the doorway. “I’m Tyler.”
She takes my hand. “Hello, Tyler. It’s nice to meet you after hearing all the good things Hazel has told us. Thank you for flying us out to surprise her.”
“No thanks necessary.” I walk them over to the limo. “How was the flight?”
