FanGirl Squeal (RockStars of Romance Book 1) (13 page)

“And you’re just a silly Muggle who wouldn’t understand the
magic that is Hogwarts.”

“C’mere.” Cash motioned for me to lean forward. I did.

“What?” I whispered.

“I have a leather bound set, autographed by J.K. Rowling
herself. Who’s the Muggle now?”

“You haven’t read them,” I insisted.

“I’ve read them at least eight times.”

We locked eyes again. This was becoming a problem. I
resisted the urge to touch his hand even though his fingers were mere inches
from mine. Cash licked his lips, something that I noticed he does a lot. My
skin began to tingle. My head was swimming with all kinds of crazy sexual
thoughts about Cash’s lips and tongue. Maybe drinking with Cash wasn’t such a
good idea. I felt lost when he looked at me, like I wasn’t in control. Truthfully,
I’m not in control, which became even clearer when my mouth began to speak
words that I had not authorized.

“You’re my hero. You saved my life.”

Cash’s eyes stayed glued on me as he asked, “How’s that?” His
Boston accent became more apparent with every beer.

I couldn’t stop myself. As much as I wanted to, my brain was
doing whatever it wanted. My eyes filled with tears. “You saved my life.”

“I was engaged,” I told Cash. “Right after the proposal, I
found out that I was pregnant. We rushed our wedding because we didn’t want to
have a child out of wedlock. A month before our wedding, I lost the baby. I was
a mess. The only comfort I had was knowing that I was going to marry Jacoby and
we could try again. He never showed up to our wedding.”

“What?”

I swallowed the last of my beer and poured another glass. “He
didn’t show up. I waited in that church for two hours and he never called or
came. I listened to your
Belief
album every single day after that. It
was the only thing that helped me get out of bed and not let my life slip away.”

I never told anyone how I had driven to the Santa Monica
Pier with a bottle of Troy’s prescription pain pills, ready to take them all
and fall asleep on the beach peacefully and never wake up. I told Cash because
it was the lyrics to
Cry No More
that made me get back in my car.

“So yeah,” I finished. “That’s why I did the book. That’s
why this moment is so surreal. What do you say to the stranger who carried you
out of the burning building?”

Cash took my hands in his. His hands were so warm and big
and strong. “That. You say that.”

He raised my hands to his lips and kissed the back of both
of them. My skin tingled where his lips had touched.

“I’m honored that you shared that with me. Let’s get out of
here,” Cash suggested when he noticed a fat teardrop hit the wooden table

“Sure.” I was tipsy and desperately wanted to go back to my
hotel room where I could cry in peace.

Cash held onto my waist as we walked out of the restaurant
and all the way to his Mustang that was parked half a block away. He helped me
into the car and made sure my seatbelt was secure before driving off.

“What hotel are you staying at?”

“The Courtyard. In Times Square.”

“Do you know the address?”

I was sober enough to pull up the address on my phone, which
he plugged into his GPS. Rush hour traffic turned a thirty-minute trip into a ninety-minute
ride. I was nowhere near sober when Cash parked in the parking deck of the
hotel and escorted me to my room. My hands were so clumsy with the room key
that Cash took it from me and opened the door himself.

“I can’t believe you’re such a lightweight,” Cash teased. “It
was just beer.”

I collapsed on the king bed. “I’m not a lightweight. I haven’t
eaten all day. I can out drink you any other day of the week. And I’m not even
drunk.”

To prove it, I sat up on the bed and fiddled with the straps
of my Dior sandals that were killing my feet. I kicked them off and stood up.
Blood rushed to my head. Without the four-inch heels, my dress hit the floor.
Wobbly and fuzzy headed, I took a step and stepped on the hem.

Cash caught me before I tumbled to the ground. My hand
wrapped around his arm. I could feel his bicep pulsing in my grip. His arms
encircled my waist. The scent of beer, French fries, and his cologne sent a
powerful surge of electric heat throughout my entire body.

“What are you doing?”

Cash’s voice was a deep timbre that sent chills up my spine.
I wasn’t drunk enough to miss the obvious lust deep in his voice.

“I’m trying to find something to change into. My suitcase is
way over there.”

I couldn’t bring myself to pull out of his arms. Instead, I
traced the tattoo of a guitar on his arm with one finger. In his Sox cap,
sleeveless shirt showing all of his tattoos, baggy sweats, with his skin
lightly kissed by the sun, Cash was no doubt the sexiest man alive.

Cash drew in his breath the moment my finger touched his
tattoo. I was too afraid to look in his eyes, afraid that this moment would be
over if I did. Cash’s hand slipped behind my head and drew me as close to him
as physically possible.

“I want to kiss you so damn bad,” he uttered in a low growl.
“But I shouldn’t.”

“You’re right.”

Of course I shouldn’t kiss him. This wasn’t a regular hot
guy that my body was desperately crying out for. If it was, we’d be in the bed
by now.

This was Cash Myers and I’m no groupie. I have never slept
with a celebrity before and I wasn’t about to start now.

“Savannah,” he breathed into my hair.

I placed my hand on his chest and gently pushed him away. I
ignored the empty feeling that overcame me when Cash’s hands left my hips. I
stepped a few feet back.

Without a word, I grabbed my small suitcase and raced into
the bathroom. I sat on the toilet and tried to calm my racing heart.

What the hell was that all about?

I splashed my face with cool water. It helped me calm down
and think rationally about what just happened.

If you sleep with him, everything you’ve been saying to
yourself about this trip will be complete bullshit,
I scolded myself as I
fumbled around in the bag for a pair of shorts and tank top.

You should tell him to go. But be nice about it.

Hastily, I threw on the shorts and shirt. I picked up my
dress and took a deep breath.

You got this, Banana.

I opened the bathroom door with confidence and a slightly
diminished desire to jump Cash’s bones. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, leaned
over with his elbows on his knees and running his hands through his hair like
he was thoroughly frustrated. He looked up at me and groaned.

“What?”

“I was hoping you’d come out of the bathroom in something
that closely resembled a nun’s habit.”

In two strides, Cash was standing in front of me. He grabbed
me around my waist and pulled me to him. With one hand behind my head and the
other on the small of my back, Cash leaned down and brushed his lips against
mine. I parted my lips, inviting him in. I may have stopped breathing as Cash’s
lips moved against mine. His kiss was soft as his tongue explored the inside of
my mouth. I could feel his heart thumping in his chest, fast and hard.

There was something about this kiss that was different from
every first kiss I’ve ever had. This kiss felt safe and comforting…and natural.

Cash broke away first. I raised my eyes. He was smiling down
at me as his fingers twirled my curls.

“Umm, I…” he stammered.

“Ruining the moment is what you’re doing,” I replied.

He chuckled. “I am, aren’t I?”

I nodded. “Yup.”

“I should probably go.”

“That’s probably a good idea.”

Cash sat on the bed instead. “We didn’t do the interview.”

I climbed over him and stretched out the wrong way on the
bed. I snuggled up with the extra pillows I bribed a housekeeper for.

“I’m in no condition to conduct a professional interview
right now.”

“I thought you weren’t drunk,” Cash smirked.

I grinned at him. “Not from beer. However, I’m quite sleepy.
This has been an emotionally draining day. And it’s only going to get worse
considering I have to have dinner with my folks tonight. And tomorrow, I have
to figure out how me and my twin sister, the Loki to my Thor, are going to
destroy my ex. We have to come up with something twisted and evil and I haven’t
given it much thought yet.”

Cash scooted to the top of the bed and stretched out beside
me. He bunched up a pillow and laid his head so that we were eye to eye.

“Savannah Ford, I swear to God, you get more and more
interesting by the minute. This is a story I’ve got to hear.”

“Savannah? You sleep?”

Cash reached over and brushed a few stray curls from
Savannah’s face to see if her eyes were closed. They were. She was laying
across the king bed, clutching a pillow with one hand, her legs at an awkward
angle that looked anything but comfortable. The other hand was tucked
underneath the two pillows she was lying on.

Cash chuckled to himself. No matter what she said, Savannah
was a lightweight. At least she was the kind of girl who fell asleep when she
was drunk and not the dancing on tables kind of girl.

He eased off the bed so he didn’t disturb her. He needed to
leave before someone alerted the paparazzi that he was in the hotel. The last
thing he needed was a picture of him coming out of a gossip blogger’s hotel
room.

Cash walked quietly around the bed and leaned down to place
a light kiss on Savannah’s forehead. She stirred a little and shifted her legs.
Her eyes fluttered open.

“Cash?” Savannah sleepily whispered.

“Yeah.”

“C’mere.” She rolled over to her side and patted the edge of
the bed. Cash sat down and gazed at the half-asleep girl.

“What’s up?”

Savannah rested her head against the stack of pillows and
smiled up at him. “Thank you.”

The two words left her mouth and floated up to Cash’s ears
like a soft breeze. He leaned over and said, “No, thank you,” softly in her
ear.

Savannah turned her head and stared sleepily up at him. The
sun was setting and the heavy hotel drapes blocked any remaining daylight. The
light from the television cast a pale blue light across her face. Seeing her
like that made Cash wonder what she’d look like on a beach under the moonlight.
Could she be more beautiful?

“You’re gorgeous,” slipped out but Cash didn’t backtrack. It
was the truth.

“So are you.”

With their lips just inches apart, Savannah gasped softly as
Cash’s blue eyes met hers. His pulse quickened when he noticed the spot right
above her collarbone was throbbing. Was it in anticipation or something else?
Savannah’s brown eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she lifted her head off the
pillows. Her hand eased around the back of his neck and into Cash’s hair.

Their lips touched.

Cash felt a surge of desire so intense that he gripped the
edge of the bed. He pressed a little more firmly against her. Her lips moved
under his, slowly at first then eagerly as his tongue coaxed her lips apart.
Cash closed his eyes as the warmth of Savannah’s mouth ignited every nerve in
his body. Her hands moved tentatively up his leg, then boldly, she gripped the
thick cotton of his sweatpants. She moaned against his lips.

Cash touched her face then her neck, sliding his hand along
the side of her body. Her skin was warm as he slipped his hand under her top
and around to her back.

Savannah’s body relaxed at his touch. She moaned again and
moved her hand from his pants to the smooth muscles of his upper arm. Her breathing
quickened as Cash’s mouth explored the crevices of hers while his hands
traveled along her body.

Demanding and uninhibited, Savannah pulled him forward. Her
tongue swirled around his like a brush on canvas. The bulge in his pants jumped
when Savannah’s hand slid over his well-defined abs. He gently pulled away and
placed quick kisses along her jaw so she could catch her breath. Moving down to
her neck, Cash inhaled. She was wearing his cologne. He kissed her right behind
her ear then sat up. For a second, he just stared at Savannah as her breasts
heaved with each breath she took.

“What time is it?” Savannah groaned.

Cash looked at his watch. “Almost eight.”

Savannah shot up like a rocket. “Shit! I’m supposed to meet
my parents at Sylvia’s at eight.”

Cash shook his head. “Sorry, babe, you’re not going to make
it.”

With her back to Cash, Savannah tore off her tank top. Cash
stared at her bare back, noticing a tattoo. She stepped into her dress and
wiggled it over her ass; he caught a glimpse of an elaborate butterfly tattoo
on her right side. He wanted a much closer look but didn’t get a chance.

“You don’t know New York like I do,” Savannah replied to his
statement. “I could jog to Harlem and get there in a half-hour.”

Cash rose from the bed and stood behind Savannah. He bent down
slightly and kissed her bare shoulder. “Put your shoes on. I’ll take you.”

“Have you ever been to Harlem, Cash?”

He couldn’t say that he had. He hadn’t been living full-time
in New York for very long. When he and Victoria had stayed there for extended
amounts of time, they were mostly with friends in SoHo, the Upper West Side, or
Chelsea.

Savannah did take him up on his offer for a ride though, but
she made him leave the hotel first. She, too, was a little paranoid about
paparazzi. Cash waited in the parking garage with the engine of his Shelby GT
purring and the A/C on full blast.

“What are you doing, Cash?” he said out loud.

He’d been single for less than a month. He was definitely
free to hook up with any girl he wanted, but he had no desire to do a hit and
run with Savannah Ford. He liked her. The more he talked to her, the more he
wanted her to keep talking.