Chapter 8: Rock Stars Make Deals

Kat

It's surprising and scary how disappointed I feel when I awake and find Trace gone. Then I see his text.

Went to Riley's room for a sec. BRB.

I'm glad...it gives me time to put my top back on, pee, do all that unglamorous stuff that girls who date rock stars probably don't do in front of rock stars.

Wait, is that what I'm doing now? Despite Trace's repeated jokes about our "date", and the phone number stunt, and the intimacy of the way he held me last night, I'm not sure what's happening between us. Then it occurs to me...I don't have to be sure, do I? I'm eighteen years old, and my lifelong crush is pushing up on me—hard, AND he happens to be a famous, hot, fabulous musician. Why do I have to stress it? Why can't I just go with it and have fun?

I know why. Because Trace is forever associated in my brain with what happened to Ashlynn, and what happened to Ashlynn is an eternal reminder of my duty as a daughter. I can't do what Ashlynn did—I can't crush my parents. I have to stick to "my" goals, "my" dreams. I have to make them happy and proud, because I robbed them of Ashlynn. And rock stars don't date serious, nose-to-the-grindstone-girls like me, right?

I look at myself in the mirror. I don't look serious. My nose doesn't look like it belongs on a grindstone. Why can't I just take a day to be the girl I used to be? Hell, I can take ten. My parents aren't back from Europe until the middle of next week. Yeah, I can be...fun and young. I can be wild, if I want. I push my hair up on top of my head and pout at myself.

"Nice. You could be the girl on the hood of the car in the music video. Want me to introduce you to some casting people?" Trace is standing at the bathroom door, sipping a coffee.

"Maybe I was just practicing for you, Rockstar." I wink.

"Ahhh. I give you the simple pleasure of the skin cuddle and I'm upgraded from asshole to rockstar. Who knew you were so easy to please as a girlfriend?" he smiles.

My insides churn at how casually Trace says that, but I try to play it cool, like it's normal to talk about what I like in bed. I smile back and rifle through the detritus on his vanity. I pick up his toothbrush and hold it out. He shrugs and nods. I brush. He watches me like I'm a cup of water and he's a man dying of thirst. I know I'm decent-looking, but nobody has ever looked at me like that. Especially not when I have bed hair and smeared mascara. It's a big turn-on, to be desired. Dammit, how can Trace make me so hot when I'm brushing my teeth?

How can I love this thing we are doing so much? What the hell is wrong with me? Don't I have a boyfriend?

"A skin cuddle? Did you just front my random shirt shedding—for comfort only—like you made a move?" I say as I rinse.

"I did make a move. I saw the opportunity to skin cuddle, I took it. It's maybe a slow move, but it's definitely a move. So far I've kissed your fingers, held your hand, and slept with you skin-to-skin. We're going places, babe. It's is legit thing."

"Well, it's a nice thing," I murmur, trying to brush past him. He reaches out an arm and stops me in the doorway, and then puts his other arm out to entrap me, backing me against the door. I try to keep my gaze on his eyes and not his lips, because I know what happens next when he kisses me. He's already warned me. The next time he kisses me, he's not gonna stop, and I can't take another upend-my-world-and-leave-for-tour-trauma.

"I know lots more nice things."

"Me, too." I assure him.

"Wanna trade? I'll show you another one of my nice things and you show me one of yours?" He's not smiling. He has this intense, focused look on his face. His eyes, usually so light they look grey, are now darker than I've ever seen them. This is what desire looks like on grown-up Trace.

I don't have to look at myself to know I'm blushing. I feel my cheeks and my throat flaming.

"I think one night of cheating on my boyfriend is all my morals will take," I croak.

"That wasn't cheating. That was you, cleaning up his mess and looking after me."

"Felt a little like cheating. It felt...wrong." That's not true at all. It felt right, but now I feel guilty.

"Katheryn, if you had actually cheated on your boyfriend with me last night, wrong is the last thing you'd be feeling right now."

"And what do you think I'd be feeling right now?" I challenge, suddenly a little irritated with his cockiness. Does he think I'd be crazy in love with him. Wait, am I crazy in love with him anyway?

His eyes are boring into me. His mouth works, like he was deciding what to say. "Honestly, you'd still be feeling me, Sweetheart. Inside, outside, all over you, because I'd still have you in that bed making up for last time. But I knew you weren't ready."

He chuckles, but he backs off. I blink, confused. Wait? I wanted him to back off, right?

He puts a coffee in my hand. "Fortunately for you, there are lots of nice things I know that don't require you to cheat on Dickwad. Fox example, I know your coffee order, thanks to Riley."

I sip. He's right. Iced Mocha Latte. "Riley is too good to be true. How did he do that?"

Trace smiles. "I have no idea. Stalked your social media, maybe? But for the record, I wore a hat and sunglasses," he gestures to his face, "and stood in line in the lobby for the coffee myself."

"Look at you, earning your rockstar pay," I wink. I stroll out onto the bedroom balcony. The morning sun is glorious. I sit down the coffee and stretch my arms up.

Trace stands inside the curtain. "Kat, there are paparazzi across the street."

I step back in quickly. "Sorry. I wasn't thinking."

He shrugs. "Why would you?"

"That sucks, Trace. That you have to always be guarding your privacy. I'm sorry."

He smiles. "I'm not some kind of pussy that complains about the press. I just want to make sure your privacy is respected. At least until you decide if you want this."

The way he talks about us—like there is a future—makes tiny fireworks shoot off in my head. How does he even think this could work? I'm going to college, he's going to Europe in the fall for another leg of the tour. But I know enough not to be that girl—the girl that presses for too many details too soon. Maybe he doesn't know any more than I do, and that's fair. He's got a lot more adult stuff to worry about than I do.

"Your turn to show me something nice," he says.

I think for a minute, and then I pick up my phone and show him the picture that Maddie texted me earlier—one she had taken last night backstage. It was of the moment Trace hugged me. His face wasn't visible but mine was over his shoulder. My eyes are shining, and the smile on my face was...well, I haven't seen a picture of me with a smile like that in a long time.

"Wow," he says. "That is nice, to know I made you smile like that. And to think you tried to pretend you were mad at me."

I sigh. "I was mad at you, Trace. I still am, sort of. My body just doesn't agree."

A loud, barky laugh escapes him. "Well, I'm glad your body is on my side. I'm hoping I can win the rest of you over, too. Towards that end, I have another nice thing for you."

He hands me a bag. "Still like them?"

"Still like them," I confirm. Trace and Ashlynn used to carpool to school, and they would drop me off at middle school before. Almost every morning, we'd hit the Starbucks. I didn't drink coffee back then, but Ashlynn and I always got a cranberry scone to share. I don't have the heart to tell him I go for protein shakes more often than not these days. I halve it, and nibble.

We sit on the couch beside each other. Trace is quiet. I guess we are both thinking about Ashlynn because of the scone.

Trace clears his throat. "So,  there are probably some things I should tell you about Ashlynn."

I make a snap decision. "Trace, I don't want to talk about Ashlynn."

He looks surprised. "You don't?"

"I mean, I do, eventually. I want to hear everything you know, and I want to figure out how we can help her. But not today. There's nothing we can do for her today, unless she shows up. My parents are out of the country. European cruise. For ten more days, so I don't have to worry about the telling them about Ashlynn. I just want...a break from all that family stuff. So can you tell me the details tomorrow? Today, maybe we can just...catch up?"

Scone goes flying as he tackles me, pressing my hands above my head and trapping me beneath him on the couch. I'm too surprised to even react. My heart is pounding. Does he think catch up is code for doing it right here on the spot?

"You have no fucking idea how happy what you said just makes me," he's grinning like a lunatic. Then he kisses my forehead and just as quickly as he flattened me, he's pulling me to my feet. "Because that tells me you're planning to still be here tomorrow. Tell you what. Why don't you go get dressed? Morning press is over and Dawes and the guys are on their way back. It's about to get a little crowded in here. Stuff to go over for tonight's show."

I nod. "You want to text me when you're done?"

"No," He picks up my key cards from where I left them. "Come on in when you're done. All access pass for you. The business shouldn't take long, and then we won't need to be at the venue until much later. We'll get out of here for the afternoon, take a drive. Just come back quick, okay? I don't want to waste a minute of our day, babe."

I scrunch my nose. "We are going to have to talk about this 'babe' thing. I'm not sure I'm okay keeping that nickname going."

"We are going to have to talk about this boyfriend thing, too. I am definitely not okay with you keeping Colin going," he says.

I groan. "Oh god. How about you can call me babe as long as we don't talk about Ashlynn or Colin? Let's just pretend neither one of those problems exist—just for today?"

Trace has the strangest look on his face when he shakes my hand and says, "Deal."

Seems like Kat has a plan to let loose a little! How do you think she and Trace will spend the day together? What do you think about Trace and Kat's deal? Do you think they can spend the day together without worrying about external complications?

Please vote, comment, share, and/or follow. I'm writing two stories at once, so it helps me stay motivated to know that readers are actually enjoying the story....and it helps me gauge where to focus my update attention! Thanks!