Chapter 10

DIANA

On Saturday morning, I stared at my haggard reflection in the mirror. My fingers gripped the edge of my sink until my knuckles turned bone white. I ground my teeth as a distraction from the sinking feeling in my gut.

A dark bruise on my neck stared back at me. No larger than a nickel on the right side, but enough for me to notice it every time I passed a mirror.

~A hickey.~

I had a hickey on my neck like a damn teenager. A hickey from Levi Stark, of all people.

This couldn’t be happening to me. How was I supposed to face him again on Monday?

~With a low-cut shirt and the shortest skirt in my closet. No panties, or bra, and a box of condoms in my purse…~

No! Stop that!

I mentally slapped myself and smacked my cheeks to clear my head.

It didn’t work.

The filthiest daydreams of Levi penetrated my mind throughout the day. All my thoughts pounded through me and left me soaked.

He slipped easily past my walls and filled the deepest parts of my thoughts.

Oh, goddammit.

Was working with him going to be difficult after our…altercation? I’d never been in a position like that before.

A decade ago, I’d had boyfriends of some varying degree of fame. Some who genuinely liked me, and some who wanted me for what I could do for them.

They wanted the connections to fame that came with being seen with me.

After my dad rescued me and it led to the end of his life, I’d subconsciously sworn off men and dating. It took a lot of therapy to unpack that.

Perhaps I should call my therapist. But what would I tell her?

“Oh, hey, I’m working with a frustratingly sexy rock star that turns me on and every time I react by getting pissed off at him?”

I needed to stop taking my frustration and trauma out on Levi every time I had a physical reaction to him.

I knew that, and yet it was like wrestling a bear inside myself—a big grizzly bear that reared up on its hind legs and seized control of me when I became aroused.

If I didn’t push him away, I feared what might happen if I pulled him too close.

But being cruel to him because intimacy made me nervous wasn’t fair to him.

If I continued working in dark, confined spaces by myself like a raccoon in sweatpants, I might lose my mind.

As a distraction from the inescapable raunchy thoughts dancing through my mind, I dressed up and went grocery shopping with my contract signing bonus.

My empty fridge mocked me, and a day out of the house might give me some much-needed fresh air.

That didn’t help either.

Posters of Levi lined the highways. Billboards of his band glared at me around every corner I turned.

All I saw was his stupid, handsome face painted up like a skull. Dark, threatening, and frustratingly arousing.

First, I stopped for lunch, where I picked at a bacon sandwich. From behind my oversized sunglasses, I watched couples smiling at one another across their tables.

A man and woman across the outdoor patio held hands, laughing at some intimate joke they shared.

In my mind’s eye, I imagined myself on an early lunch date at some lavish L.A. brunch spot. I’d have an attractive man sitting across from me and he’d be enrapt with whatever nonsense I was telling him.

But when I glanced up, it was Levi staring back at me. Midday sunlight glinted in his eyes and his inviting mouth stretched into a wide smile full of promise.

An unwarranted thrill flashed through my insides. Startled by my imagination, I downed the dregs of my overpriced latte and abandoned the rest of my lunch.

There was no way in hell I’d be caught on a date with Levi Stark. Letting him finger-fuck me in his dressing room was bad enough.

Even though that was without a doubt the best, most satisfying orgasm in my entire life.

Nothing had ever come close to how he made me feel, melting in the palm of his hand like I was putty, and he was the artist shaping me into something new.

A secret part of me wanted that. To become something or even someone new with him.

I wanted to partake in the carnal euphoria he offered, and revel in the release.

Fuck, I had to shut those thoughts up before they consumed me.

At the grocery store, I drifted through the aisles, tossing a myriad of snacks into my basket, and several bottles of wine.

Likely too many, but nothing helped me sleep better than a glass—or three—of a red zinfandel filled to the rim.

I steered my cart down the frozen foods aisle, the squeak of a crooked wheel echoing on the tile.

My gaze flicked between the wine bottles in my cart and the double fudge gelato on the shelf.

No amount of junk food could fill the void in my life, but chocolate and wine seemed like a good start.

Back home, I uncorked a bottle of wine and ordered a pizza.

After washing my face and changing into my comfiest sweats, I sank into my couch cushions, half hoping they’d swallow me whole.

As I flipped through channels on the TV, I made the mistake of stopping on the local news.

The perky blonde reporter flashed her disarming smile and turned her microphone to her current interviewee.

“So, Levi, what’s next for your band after these local shows?”

A face I’d been trying to avoid thinking about all day suddenly became the focal point. The cameras zeroed in on the skull-faced rock star, his fans screaming in the background.

Levi flashed a charming smirk that sent the crowd into a frenzy. I could almost see everyone watching at home fanning themselves.

My teeth ground together, and my heart slowed to an agonizing drumbeat. I leaned forward on my couch cushion, fingers digging into the material.

I balanced precariously on the edge, as if Levi’s presence on the screen was drawing me closer.

“After this series of local shows throughout California, I’ll be finishing my current album and taking those new songs on an international tour,” Levi said.

The low rasp of his voice rolled through me, heating my blood.

I drew my bottom lip between my teeth and pressed my thighs together.

“How exciting!” The reporter gave him a once-over before facing the camera again.

“Well, you heard it here, folks. Levi has some exciting new music on the way, and his band goes international once again. Your fans across the world must be bursting at the seams for those tickets.”

Levi nodded and waved at the thousands of screaming fans behind him.

A gruff chuckle rolled off his lips, and an unbidden memory of his mouth on my neck rose to the surface.

He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck at the same time my fingers brushed over the hickey on mine.

“We’re so grateful to our fans. Without them, none of this would be possible.”

Levi kissed the tips of his fingers and lifted them to the crowd, driving them wild.

The reporter batted her lashes and let out a throaty laugh that grated on a nerve I didn’t know I had.

“And Levi, your fans are dying to know if there’s a special someone in your life right now. Are you able to share anything?”

She pressed the mic to his face again, drilling for an answer.

He chuckled, deep and boyish. It was a laugh I didn’t know he was capable of, and my heart skipped a beat at the sound.

Then he licked his bottom lip and stared directly into the camera. “Uh, yeah, there’s someone I’m interested in.”

I fell off the edge of my couch, and my knees smacked into the hardwood. My glass of wine splashed across the floor, staining the corner of my cream center rug a lovely red.

“Oh, shit,” I hissed.

His alluring voice pulled my eyes back to the screen. “But she’s definitely way too good for me. I don’t stand a chance.”

My jaw dropped, and my limp fingers released the glass in my hand. It shattered into a million glittering pieces on the floor, and the last droplets of my drink soaked into my sweatpants.

The interview continued, but my ears buzzed as my vision blurred. All I heard was that heavenly rasping tone, and the skeleton paint that accentuated his handsome features.

Was he as tormented by thoughts of me as I was by thoughts of him?

I’d be delusional to think he was talking about me… But what if he was?