Dry, grumpy, and too frustrated to sleep, I pulled on briefs and basketball shorts, flopped across my bed, and turned on the television, groaning, because Jett had it on last. Wading through channel after channel of reality TV, true crime that was too damned depressing to immerse myself in tonight, and food porn that would just make me hungry started to get on my nerves three minutes into scrolling. It took another three to finally land on something I could stomach, but at least Troy had some amazing battle scenes I could get lost in.
Oh, who was I fooling? Three minutes into a stunning sequence of grace and weapons mastery, and I was even more keyed up and ready to do battle with the object of my fury. When he’d stormed off, I’d expected my phone to start blowing up, so I’d muted the notifications on our text window. The line of furious messages I’d anticipated didn’t greet me when I opened my phone.
There was nothing but radio silence.
Was it too much to hope that he’d caught a clue and realized he’d fucked up by approaching me while I was on the clock?
Probably, since there wasn’t even an apology message and an offer to make things right. Fine, if he wanted to play it that way, then there was nothing else to do but wrap up this mess and put it behind me.
In light of what occurred tonight, it would be best if you steered clear of me, and I’ll do the same. You may not have a shred of concern for the lives and well-being of the people you tour with, but myjob is to make certain that no harm ever comes to the man I’m assigned to protect. I get that taking things seriously is not a strong suit of yours; you’ve made that clear time and time again. I can’t force you to follow the rules and stay beside your guard at all times, but I can keep myself from falling prey to your irresponsible behavior. Will it even matter to you when you cost a good man their job with your bullshit? I’d like to think it would, but I don’t know anymore. You need to grow up, Rebel; it would make everyone’s life easier.
I hit send, proud of the fact that I hadn’t given in to the temptation to rip into him with a profanity-ridden tirade. I knew there was a brain beneath those gorgeous red-gold curls, but it seemed like he’d made an art form of not using it and getting away scot-free without any consequences.
The little icon appeared beneath my words, and I waited for the pushback, the promises, and the teasing snark he used when he was trying to weasel his way out of whatever lectures and reproach he’d earned. I stared at the screen for several long minutes, and the triple line of waving dots never appeared.
No phone call.
No gif.
Not even a sad face emoji.
Wow. Okay.
Shoving my phone back under the pillow, I expected it to blip the moment it was out of my hand, but there was still no response by the end of the movie, and I needed to be back on duty tomorrow afternoon, so it was lights out and television off for me.
And then the blip came. Go figure. I yanked the phone out, ready to go to battle, but the message wasn’t from Rebel. It was from Sully, filling me in on the itinerary for tomorrow along with the list of who would be guarding whom for the duration of that detail. I saw that Cyril had been removed as Rebel’s guard and placed in the semi, riding shotgun with the driver to protect the band's stage setups and equipment and was pleased to see that Sully hadn’t just cut him loose. Sully himself would be guarding Rebel, a fact that gave me a small measure of pleasure.There would be no slipping away from that man’s piercing gaze; that was for damn sure. Despite his best efforts, he’d be safe, which was what I’d been trying to drum into his thick skull when I’d found him down there in that bar.
Being informed by Sully that Rebel had headed outside alone instead of doing as I’d said and finding his guard had left me seeing red and itching to stalk to his room just to yank him over my knee and spank the hell out of him for being stubborn. By the time I’d finally wrestled my emotions under control, my principal and his partners emerged from the room I’d been guarding reeking of sex and sweat, and my post shifted from that door to the one that led to the shower room. There was no time to worry about whether Rebel had done as he was told or not.
Trying to rationalize why he’d gone outside had caused my temples to throb. Defiance? Or perhaps he’d just deemed the backstage area too difficult to navigate and decided to seek out the one guard he’d known how to find. What I should have done was radioed his location to Cyril so he could come take charge of him, only I’d been too pissed and frustrated to want to look at Rebel any longer.
Because I’d wanted to take him up on everything he was offering, and instead, I’d made a grave error in judgement in not keeping him right there with me until his guard reached us.
For one fleeting moment I've been tempted to duck away from the door just to steal a few kisses from him. That’s why it needed to be over, before the hold he already had on me could grow. Yet even as I lay there in the dark with my eyes closed, I could picture the way he’d looked, shirtless on the balcony, kicked back in a metal chair with a pillow shoved under his ass because I’d gotten sick of him complaining about the metal digging into the backs of his legs.
He’d grumbled when I’d suggested he swap the basketball shorts he had on for a pair of jeans, something about it interrupting the flow. A battered notebook, three pencils, and the tequila sunrise he’d insisted on ordering with breakfast dominated the table between us, but there was something so calm andserene about him when he was creating that I’d spent more time watching him than I had eating. Bacon, a blueberry muffin, two mini spinach and mushroom quiches with extra cheese, and a bowl of strawberries were all he’d ordered, which had shocked me, with how many calories he burned on stage. Only I’d understood the reason behind the collection of finger foods as I watched him at work. Because he only ever paused to take a bite or two before he turned his attention back to his guitar.
Yet I hadn’t felt dismissed or ignored as I’d sat there. Not when he’d make eye contact with me every time he looked up, like he was seeking approval, not that I knew what the hell to listen for, but I liked what I heard and told him so. It was likely the glint of the sun that made his eyes sparkle in those moments, but I liked to think my praise brought some of that brilliant green shimmer out.
The future is a tornado.
The death of lazy days.
I miss the me that had time to daydream.
I miss the me that was free.
Raw lyrics, words written and erased time and time again as he worked to get them right. My appreciation of songwriting as a craft had expanded that day, as I’d watched him strum, change chords, and strum again. The moment he found the flow he was looking for; his whole demeanor changed from laid back and chill to furiously focused, and he curled over the guitar so he could reach his notebook easier. Every now and again the tip of his pierced tongue would poke out from between his lips, the silver skull at the end of the barbell reflecting the light that hit it.
I knew what that talented tongue could do; he’d teased the slit of my cock with that piercing, running it up the shaft and around the head, cold at first, from the coke he’d chugged, then warm, warm, warm as he’d gone all in seeking to pleasure me.
Fuck.
Now I was hard and missing the feel of that wavy reddish-gold hair crushed in my fists as I’d guided his head, slowly pressing it lower and lower just to see if he could deepthroat me, andholy shit, he could. With teary eyes, lips slick with saliva and a dribble of my release, he’d raised his head, grinned, and told me that choking on my cock was going to become his new favorite pastime.
Fuck my life, there was no getting to sleep now, not unless I took myself in hand or took a cold shower. The flexible fucker was burned into my brain; the taste of him, the feel of his hole squeezing my cock, the choked-out groans he made, never too loud, like he was worried about getting caught. When I’d gripped the headboard and pounded into him as hard as I’d dared, he just growled in my ear and begged me to not hold back, so I hadn’t. I’d given him everything he’d pleaded for and more, until we’d both lain sated and panting on sweat-damp sheets, so blissfully fucked out that I’d almost forgotten to set the alarm on my phone before passing out.
Another near fuckup on my part… because of him…because he was easy to get lost in. Because he made me feel things, feel alive in ways I hadn’t in years. All reasons to let him go and stop fucking thinking about the way he’d felt when he’d curled against my side, rested his head on my shoulder, and thanked me for giving him everything he’d been searching for that night.