Redeeming You(26)

She tipped her head up so she could see his face. His clear brilliant blue eyes were unwavering. “Why does it matter what people say? You’ve never cared before.”

He looked away momentarily. “Because you're different.”

“And that’s a good thing?” she asked, burying her head in his chest again.

“Yes,” he answered without explanation, but it was enough for her.

The elevator doors opened.

He stepped away from her and followed her out. She already missed the heat and comfort of his embrace.

“This is you,” he said, stopping in front of a dark brown smooth paneled door. He snatched the card key out of her hand, slid it into the lock and held the door open for her.

“What’s the plan for the rest of the day?” she asked as she walked into the sleek hotel room with a mirrored dresser, an espresso colored headboard, crisp white bedding and charcoal colored carpet. He didn’t follow her.

He hooked his thumbs through the front belt loops of his worn jeans. “I don’t have a show tonight, so I thought I’d take you out or we can order room service. It’s your choice.”

“Out where? Like dinner?” she asked surveying her wrinkled cotton dress. If he wanted to go out, she wanted to change her clothes and look nice. Getting dressed everyday in the cramped tour bus bathroom wasn’t easy. Half the time, her makeup was either too dark or nonexistent. The lighting left a lot to be desired.

“Dinner, shopping, gambling. It’s Vegas, we’ll find something to do.”

“Any one of those sounds fun as long as I can shower first,” she said as she sat on the edge of the bed and kicked off her worn black ballet flats. She had them for years. They looked a little on the shabby side, but to her they were the most comfortable shoes she’d ever owned, almost like a second skin.

He walked into the room, shutting the door behind him. “I’ll come up with something.” He looked at his watch. “Can you be ready in an hour?”

She flopped backwards on the bed, letting her eyes close. She hadn’t slept well for the last five days. Even though the guys were respectful on the bus, it wasn’t comfortable sleeping in those tiny, hard bunks, listening to snoring, breathing and other weird noises that guys tended to make in their sleep. “More like two hours,” she mumbled.

The bed dipped next to her body. “Are you tired?” Cam asked.

She nodded without opening eyes. His hands moved through her hair in light, smooth strokes. She shivered. She loved it when someone played with her hair. Before her dad died, her mom used to do that to her every night when she put her to sleep. It was one of her only good memories of her mom. She and Alec referred to their mom as Mom BC and Mom AD, which stood for Mom before catastrophe and Mom after dad. It was a fitting description because her mom turned into an entirely different person after her dad died. Mom BC had nothing in common with Mom AD. One good and one bad, black and white, night and day.

Cam stood up and she opened her eyes.

“Why don’t you take a nap?” He pulled the bedding down revealing crisp white sheets that were too hard to ignore. The nonstop commotion of the tour exhausted her both physically and mentally. She didn’t know how the guys remained sane living on the road for months at a time when they toured. At this rate, she would be checking herself into one of those celebrity total exhaustion rehab centers by the end of the month.

She crawled under the sheets and pulled them to her chin. The bed was undeniably luxurious in comparison to the bunks on the bus. “What are you going to do now?”

“I might take a nap.” He shrugged, staring down at her. “Or Marcus wanted to play a few hands of blackjack before he went to some club. I could hang out with him while you nap.” He stared at her for a few prolonged moments, his eyes intense as he took in every detail of her face. “I’ll come back and check on you in a couple of hours. How does that sound?”

“No.”

“No?” he questioned raising one eyebrow.

She rolled to her side. “I mean I don’t want you to go. Can you stay with me?”

He was quiet and his eyes were contemplative. She didn’t know what motivated her to ask him to stay other than she wasn’t ready to let him go. It’d been too long since she could touch him freely. She reached for his hand and started pulling him toward her until he sat on the bed next to her.

He kicked his shoes off and then climbed over her. “Come here,” he said as he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her back against his chest.

She sighed, feeling totally relaxed. He fit perfectly wrapped around her body, as if they were two halves, yin and yang, interconnected and interdependent. As he pressed his face into the back of her hair, he laced his fingers through hers and inhaled deeply. “I love the way your hair smells. What is that? Coconut?”