Page 72 of One Time Only (One Time Only 1)
But I don’t say that to Stone.
That’s not what we are, though it feels like we’re teetering dangerously close to wrecking our deal—to smashing it, even. Lately, as in during the last twenty-four hours, it seems like he wants more. Like maybe he’s more serious than he’s let on.
That gives me the courage to say the next thing. To test the waters.
“I’m more interested in what you think.”
Stone licks his lips, takes a breath, and flashes me his megawatt smile. But it’s not simply his celebrity smile. It’s the smile that comes from within.
“I like that the internet likes the idea of us together,” he says, and my chest glows because I’m pretty sure I’m reading him right.
Reading us right.
I move to the door, open it, step outside, and look around. Make sure the coast is clear. Then I lean back in, meet his gaze, and answer him, letting him know I feel the same. “The internet isn’t the only one.”The next few days pass in a blur of sex and work, work and sex.
And nights with Stone.
Nights that hardly feel like they’re part of a deal.
On Wednesday, as the clock ticks closer to his concert series ending, we head to a local community center at the start of my shift.
It’s located in an area that was once a hotbed for street gangs. The neighborhood has since been cleaned up, and Stone’s been a regular charitable contributor to the center.
I head inside with Candi, and I stand by the doorway as the musician settles into a rec room with some teenagers for another visit. He plugs in his electric guitar and shows them a few basic chords. He hands his extra Strat to one of them, and a goofy smile spreads on the teen’s face as he slings the strap over his shoulder then plucks out a chord.
Stone nods in time to the beat. “Yeah, just move like this,” he says, and shows the kid how to do it.
With a smile, the kid does his best as Stone taps his fingers. “That’s how we do it. That’s how we make music.”
They play together as Candi snaps photos on her phone.
She nudges me, brandishing the screen. “These pictures are gold. You know why?”
“Because a picture’s worth a thousand words?”
“No. Because they’re legit. Look at him. This is who he is. It’s just magic.”
Warmth radiates through my bones. “Yeah, he’s all kinds of magic.”
“Funny thing is, he seemed a little lost for a year or so. He was traveling a lot. Not making as much music. Around five months ago, things started to change. It was like he was inspired again,” she says.
I’m not a conceited person, so I’m not going to attribute his inspiration to me. But I sure as hell don’t mind that it happened.After his show that night, we weave our way backstage, along the shops of The Extravagant, then past the restaurants. He stops to say hello to Callum, who’s having dinner with Ivy at Konu.
I’m not jealous at all when I see them. Stone’s right—he did good for his friend. Hearts and arrows practically flutter over the couple’s heads.
“Don’t you two look cute?” Stone says with a wink.
Ivy raises a playful brow. “I could say the same about the two of you.”
Callum lifts a glass, looking at Stone, then me. “Yes, I could too.”
I deflect, glancing at their plates. “Good dinner?”
“The best,” Ivy says.
Callum nods to the guy by my side, then speaks to me. “Look out for my friend.”
I clap Stone on the shoulder. “Always do.”
We say goodbye and walk through the casino.
Normally, we head straight to his room, but this time he motions to the tables on the floor. “How about a round of poker? I know you don’t like to gamble, so I’ll cover you.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re not paying for poker for me.”
“So you’ll play?” He wiggles his brows.
“Was that your way of goading me into playing poker?”
Stone nods, owning it. “I want to play poker with you. I want to go out and do something with you in public. Sheesh. Is that so wrong?” He plays up the indignation.
I flash back to the other night in his limo, to the things we said, then give him my best deadpan reply. “I’ll allow it.”
As we make our way through the quiet back hallway, he leans a little closer. “I know we’re not going to play strip poker in public, but can we add in a little truth poker?”
“You really always have to get your way, don’t you?”
“I like my way. It’s the way that I want,” he says with a grin.
We head to the VIP lounge and snag a table in the corner where he’s mostly away from possible fans and the spotlight.
We’re the only ones here, and the dealer is a quiet man who says little.
