For a heartbeat, he looked at me in a clinical way, but then his eyes warmed. “Mad at you? Never, beautiful. I’ll see you soon, okay?” He gave me a peck as he pulled himself out of my grip and left.
I pressed my back against the wall and closed my eyes, telling myself not to read into what had happened. It was only an awkward misunderstanding. He wasn’t going to lose interest in me just because of this one thing. But how many awkward misunderstandings before he did?
Tears of frustration threatened to spill down my cheeks. I had to stop being an immature idiot. I had to be ready for him the next time we met.
* * *
Bleeding Moonlight was about halfwaythrough their set. I watched them perform from the private balcony while sipping on a glass of champagne. When I’d arrived back here before the show started, an ice bucket with a bottle and two crystal glasses was waiting on the ground. There was a note that said,“For the girl who sparkles in her own right.”My earlier doubts had evaporated as soon as I’d read it. Everything was fine. Oliver wasn’t upset or disappointed with me.
Silas was shredding through an intense solo when a knock sounded on the door behind me. I stood up to open it and found Oliver on the other side. He looked devastating in a fitted T-shirt and black jeans held up by a studded belt. His blond hair was perfectly tousled, as if someone had spent hours putting each strand in its right place.
His gaze raked over my combat boots, my skirt, and halted on the sliver of my exposed midriff. When his eyes made their way to my face, he tongued the ring in his bottom lip. “You look beautiful.”
Satisfaction buzzed inside of me, likely fueled by the two glasses I’d already drank. “Thank you. What are you doing here? Aren’t you about to go on?”
His lips pulled back to reveal perfect white teeth. “I wanted to taste you before going on stage. For good luck.”
I was his good luck charm? I didn’t have a chance to follow that intriguing train of thought further before he pressed me up against a wall, his tall body covering mine.
His kiss was demanding. When he slid his hand under the edge of my shirt, I couldn’t help but stiffen, but only for a moment. I wasn’t going to back down like the scared little girl from before.
He caressed the underside of my breast, then pulled back with a groan. “What are you doing to me, Ivy? You make me want to skip out on the show so I can stay here with you. I can’t remember the last time a woman made me feel like this.”
A woman. That’s how he saw me. Not a girl, not Cole’s loser sister. Oliver was reinventing me through every interaction between us. Without even knowing it, he was pushing my old, mediocre self out of the way to reveal someone shiny and new.
Oliver took his hand from under my shirt and pressed the tips of his fingers against my lips. “Open your mouth,” he murmured.
I obeyed.
He dipped his fingers inside, touching my tongue. “Suck.”
When I tightened my lips around his fingers, Oliver’s expression went slack. He tasted salty. His fingers curled over my teeth, and he tugged my face closer. I could feel his erection growing harder against my stomach, and I was ready for it this time, but I wasn’t prepared for the look I saw in his eyes. The emerald green was nearly gone, replaced by the pitch black of his irises, and there was an indescribablestrangenessto it. It was as if I was looking at someone other than the Oliver I knew.
The crowd below us erupted into loud cheers. Oliver blinked, and immediately, the strangeness was gone. “Good girl,” he whispered, dragging his fingers out of my mouth. I could see his chest rise and fall with deep breaths.
He twisted his neck to look at the stage. “I need to get back.”
“Okay,” I said, my heart pounding in my chest. I felt…disoriented.
Oliver turned back to me. “We’re leaving right after the show, but I’ll find you tomorrow.”
He gave me a quick kiss and left.
I lowered into one of the chairs and saw that my hands were trembling. Things between us were moving so quickly.
I only have eleven days left.
That’s right. I didn’t have the luxury of time, and I wanted to squeeze everything I could out of my days here. If that meant feeling a little uncomfortable at times, it was a price I had to be willing to pay.
I fidgeted with my earrings, the ones Oliver had given me, while my brother’s band finished their set. Before long, Ritual Disruption was due on stage. The band walked on one by one, all of them except Jamie, and began playing an intro to a song I recognized.
What would they do if Jamie never appeared? Fortunately, I didn’t have to wonder for long. The lead singer emerged on stage moments later, his thin frame covered by a leather jacket that added some much-needed bulk.
When he began to sing, I finally understood what Oliver had meant about Jamie being the signature part of their sound. His voice was exceptional, more so live than on an album. He somehow managed to sound demonic when he growled the verse, yet angelic when he sang the chorus. From this distance, you couldn’t see his sunken cheeks or other signs of his addiction, and it was easy to be swept away with admiration for his talent. I chewed on my nail and thought back to all those women who threw themselves at the singer. Yeah, despite everything, the appeal wasn’t totally lost on me.
5
The next threedays felt like a blur of stolen moments and secret kisses with Oliver. When Bleeding Moonlight and I weren’t riding on the bus, sharing meals, or going on some expedition Ezra planned for us, I was constantly sneaking away with the guitarist. It had become somewhat of a sport—trying to find ways to see each other without arousing suspicion or…exchanging phone numbers. When I suggested we do the latter, Oliver refused with his signature smirk. “It’s more romantic if we leave it to chance and our own ingenuity, don’t you think?” My heart leapt at his words, no matter how impractical they seemed.