LOW: A Rockstar Romance (15 page)

Chapter 29

Zoe

My mom hated it when I checked my phone at the dinner table, but I couldn't help it. Low had been texting me non-stop, all day. Sometimes funny, sometimes dirty, sometimes just a picture of the same happy smile that mirrored my own.

My heart was so full I could float away like a balloon.

Right as my mother was about to resume the conversation my text chime had interrupted, I got another one. I checked really quickly to see what Low had sent now.

But this one was from the other man in my life.

Jason:  Where the hell have you been, bitch?

I blushed and hid my phone under the table.

Me: I'm sorry, I suck really bad. But shit, hooker, I have so much to tell you.

Jason: You'd better have good stories for me after being MIA for so long. When am I going to hear them?

Me: Are you around at all tomorrow?

Jason: Morning. Then I gotta do some nonsense for Bitchface.

Me: I'm most likely going to be taking Max to the park then. Want to meet me there?

Jason: Oh my god I haven't seen the little booger in ages. How old is he now? Is he driving yet?

I laughed and then ducked as my mother stared me down. Quickly, I typed out my reply.

Me: Meet us there? I'll send you a text when we're leaving.

"Zoe," my mother chided gently.

"Okay, Okay, I'm done. Sorry Mom." I slid my phone under my thigh and picked up my fork again.

Max had long since abandoned the dinner table for cartoons, but the three adults were still working on the stir-fry.

Greg got up to refill both my mother's and my wine glasses without needing to be asked. He wanted to seem polite, but I couldn't help but note that his move had been strategic. Getting out of the way of my mom before she noticed that he too had his phone out under the table, most likely playing Words with Friends with his golf buddy.

Her lip quirked upward. "Someone special?" she wondered. "You've been out an awful lot these past few weeks."

I knew she wasn't talking about Jason. Her hopeful, prodding tone would have irritated me at any other point.

But today I just really wanted to talk about Low.

How could I explain what had shifted this morning? Why I suddenly trusted him with...everything? Where could I even begin?

Maybe at the beginning. "So, uh, I kinda, maybe started seeing the guy?" I ventured. Greg stepped quickly back into the dining room and sat down. I hid my laugh at his eager nonchalance and went on. "Like about a month or so ago?"
Twenty-nine days and five hours
I didn't say.

My mom clapped once, then pressed her steepled fingers to her lips, her eyes filling. Greg blinked, then leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "What's his name?"

I took a deep breath, knowing what was coming. "Lowell Stowe."

My mother smiled blankly, but Greg… Greg knew. His eyebrows zoomed upward. "The drummer from Ruthless?"

I nodded.

"Twitch?"

I rolled my eyes. "Greg, has anyone ever told you that you're fifty-two years old? You're supposed to be living in the past and reliving the music of your college years ad nauseam…"

"Nice word," he interjected.

I smiled, "Thanks," then I took a deep breath and shook my head. "I can't believe you know his nickname."

My stepdad looked thoughtful. "That guy's got chops, I'll give him that. That opening solo on
Basic Desires
is pretty technically flawless."

"Um, I just told you I'm dating him. Aren't you interested in whether he treats me right?"

Greg stood up and kissed my forehead. "Nope," he said casually. "You chose him, so... no. You wouldn't let anyone love you less than I do." He looked back at my mom. "We do," he corrected. Then he turned back to me. "So, can you get us tickets next time they have a show?"

"I'm uh. I can try. They're sort of taking a break from touring right now."

"Huh." Greg got up and cleared my empty plate for me. "That's a bummer. Bad timing Zoe."

I stuck out my tongue at his back as he disappeared into the kitchen, laughing all the while.

My mom was still gazing at me with that patented look of hers. The one that rolls boundless love and boundless worry into one heavy-lidded glance. She expected so much for me, with but was always careful not to let it be too much. I grew up quickly because my mom needed me, though she would rather die than hear me say that. To this day, I kept quiet about the things I missed out on, because in the end, they didn't matter at all.

Things became easier when she married Greg. I was right there at their wedding, stiff and proud in my adult role as maid of honor. And when he put the ring on her finger, he then got down and put a ring on my thumb too.

As I grew it fit my pointer, then my ring finger. Now I wear it around my pinkie, and if this layer of sadfat got too out of control, I would put it on a chain and wear it over my heart.

I twisted that ring right now. "You need to say anything, Mom?" I asked.

"Can we meet him?"

I ducked a little when I remembered that we had kissed right by the front door and she had been folding laundry upstairs, completely oblivious to my world being rocked. "Of course," I promised her. "He's actually, uh, he's going to pick me up. I'm going to his place to spend the night."

To her credit, my mother didn't let the little involuntary stiffening she did at the thought of me spending the night at a guy's house be
too
too obvious. Just a small, subtle pressing together of her lips. If I hadn't spent my whole life watching her reactions, I would have missed it entirely. "That sounds lovely," she croaked and took a delicate sip of her wine.

"It is," I said. But there was something else I needed to tell her. Something more important. "Max met him," I said carefully.

"Oh? When?"

"This morning. We ran into him at the park. Low pushed him on the swing."

"Did Max like him?"

"He called him Mr. Low and wouldn't let him stop pushing him for like a solid hour. And Low stuck with it." I swallowed. Now was the time. "Mom, I told him what was going on."

This time, the stiffening was much more apparent. My mother set down her wineglass with the greatest care, but her hand lingered, dragging down the table before falling limply into her lap. "It's that serious, Zoe?"

I took a deep breath, opened and closed my mouth. "I think so, Mom. Yeah."

A small smile grew wider and wider until she was full-on beaming. "Then congratulations, honey. That's wonderful news."

"You're not mad I told?"

"I trust that you have Max's best interest at heart. I know how much you love your brother."

"I do."

"And if this guy is going to be coming around a lot...."

The sudden sound of the doorbell after weeks of it not working made us both jump.

"Door!" shouted Max. "No door! No door!" He ran full tilt into the dining room to bury his face in my mom's lap, covering his ears with his hands.

"Greg, honey? The doorbell is way too loud," my mom called.

I popped up, dropping my fork to the floor and adding to the general cacophony. "Holy shit," I said, looking at my phone. "I'm late!"

The doorbell rang again. Max shrieked and ran for it, shouting about shutting off the loud noise.

"Wait! Max honey? Pants!" I cried, running after him. "You need pants! Don't open that..."

But my brother was fast. And slippery. And really fucking fast. He grabbed the door and flung it open so hard it banged against the wall.

"Hey there little dude!" Low smiled down at Max.

Max looked up at him and yelled, then ran away, bare ass flapping in the breeze.

"You remember Max, right?" I sighed. "

"I see he's got it all figured out. Pants are a prison."

"He sure thinks so. Sorry for the impromptu show there."

He grinned at me. "I'm all about shows."

The way he said it made me flush, at the exact moment that my stepfather decided to get all manly-man-protector-bear on me. "Greg Chandler," he said, striding forward with his hand out.

"Lowell Stowe." Low met his eyes and gave a handshake so firm I saw Greg wince a little.

Then all pretense of manly introductions fell away and Greg turned into some kind of swoony superfan right in front of my eyes. "I'm so excited to meet you in person. I have to tell you, your drumming on the intro to Basic Desires, it's just...it's flawless."

Low looked utterly startled that the man with graying temples was waxing poetic about his music, but to his credit, he just smiled graciously and thanked my stepdad. And I kind of loved them both for this sweet little moment.

I grabbed my bag. "You sure Max is going to be okay with this?" I asked my mom.

She put her hand on Max's head. He was suddenly, blessedly, wearing pants, and was watching me with those big, wide eyes of his. "We prepped him better this time," she reassured me. "We talked about it, and even added you to the picture schedule. 'Zoe comes back' comes right after breakfast and before he has to get dressed."

"That's right," I echoed, getting down and looking my brother in the eye. "I'll be back in the morning."

"In the morning."

"After Froot Loops."

"After Froot Loops," he parroted. Then he suddenly looked up at Low with a look of proud realization. "Zo-weee goin' with Mr. Low!"

I could see both of my parents try to mask their startled reactions to Max acknowledging Low. But my rockstar fantasy-man got down on his one knee and nodded solemnly. "That's right. But I'm going to bring her back."

"After Froot Loops," Max declared.

"That's right dude. Wanna shake on it?"

"High-five might work better," my mom interjected.

"Then can I have a high-five?"

Max thought for a minute, then grinned his mischievous little grin and outright whaled on Low's hand. "Oh no! My career!" Low cried, staggering backward in mock anguish.

Max grinned, then opened his mouth and announced he had to go potty.

"I think that's a good cue to leave!" I chirped, practically pushing Low out the door before Max changed his mind about letting us leave.

"I like your family," Low observed, once we were out on the walk."

I bit my lip to keep the smile from breaking my face. "Me too."

Chapter 30

Low

I could see it in the way she walked across the threshold and into my apartment. Her thoughts were so clear it was like I could read them off a projector screen on her forehead.

"This is his world," she was thinking. "And I'm in it."

Unfortunately, the fucking paparazzi camped out across the street were a part of my world now as well.  I
think
we managed to duck them before they spotted us, but there was no way to know for sure unless we checked the gossip sites. Which I patently refused to do.

I sure as shit wasn't having Zoe overnight and then spending it on the fucking
computer
.

She walked around, taking in the spare, clean space. I only moved in six months ago, buying it sight unseen around the time our last tour was winding down. I hadn't given much thought to decorating the place, but now seeing it through Zoe's eyes, I wished I'd thought of putting out a picture or two, maybe setting out a fruit bowl or some shit. This place looked like a monastery.

"You're not really into...stuff, are you?" she asked, turning a circle on the bare floor.

"I didn't exactly realize that until right at this moment," I confessed with a grin.

She went to the window and looked down. "Are they always out there?" she said, gesturing to the camped out pack of vultures in the park across the street. The park I had my real estate agent scout specifically for my runs and now I had to steer clear of. Which was some epic level bullshit.

"It sure fucking seems that way. I mean, it's always the same guys. I find myself wondering if TMZ doesn't just stick their cameras in the hands of homeless people and tell them to go nuts. It's like they live there."

"Where do you think they go to the bathroom?" Zoe wondered.

I made a "right there" gesture with my hand and she wrinkled her nose. "Oh, Low. Oh, that's just...."

"Yeah," I shrugged. "It's been an adjustment, to say the least."

She reached out and took my hand. "Then let's stop thinking about them."

I looked down at her fingers twined in mine, and the mischievous little smile that danced on her lips. "Thinking about what?" I growled as I yanked her to my side. She giggled and then sighed into my chest, and I felt the loosening between both of us. It was like a door that had been opened only a crack was finally swinging wide open.

"Where's your bedroom?" she murmured over my heart.

For my answer, I swept her up into my arms and fucking
ran
to the bed. Laughing, she tore my shirt over my head and we fell in a tangle of limbs, clothes flying everywhere until we both fell breathlessly naked into the mattress.

She pushed herself up on her elbow and looked at me, absentmindedly rubbing her head up and down my side. She was here in my bed, next to me, and I suddenly flashed to all of the times I had yearned for this moment. Not just fucking her here, but waking up next to her too.

Fuck. I
loved
her.

The second I realized that everything sort of slid into place, and all the worrying I had done about how to do this finally flowed away, leaving nothing in its place but wonder. It didn't matter how I would do this. It just mattered that I
was
doing it. I loved Zoe and I'd figured out all of the particulars later.

"Low?" She leaned over me. "You look weird."

"Weird?"

"What are you thinking?"

"You mean you can't tell?"

She brushed her hand down my chest and down between my legs to grip me with her soft little hand. "I actually can't read your mind," she whispered, taking my lip gently between her teeth. Fuck, her hand on my cock, I was already moving my hips, fast and slow, it felt so fucking good to have her touch me. "But maybe you can guess what
I'm
thinking?"

"I hope you're thinking about how well I'm going to fuck you in a minute."

"Close," she said, moving her hand even faster.

I groaned and arched into her. "You're thinking about climbing on top of me and riding me 'til we're both saddle-sore."

"Well, now I am," she moaned. Then she gave an adorable shake of her head, her hair swinging. "You're distracting me."

"Sorry, but you're kind of driving me nuts here."

"I was thinking how I've never had you in my mouth."

I stopped mid-thrust and looked at her, heart suddenly banging around in my chest.

"Why is that, Low?"

I licked my lips. It was pretty fucking hard to have this conversation with her soft hand stroking my length. At the moment it was a perfectly legitimate question. Why the fuck hadn't I let her do that?

"Because," I struggled, "Wait, you're going to have to slow down there, baby, let some of the blood flow back to my brain so I can talk here." She giggled and loosened her grip, but did not let go.

I pushed up onto my elbow and reached out to brush the hair away from her face. "Because I didn't want to be selfish?" I said slowly. It was more of a question than a statement.

She cocked her head. "You put your mouth on me on our first date. Was I being selfish in letting you?"

I shook my head emphatically. "No. I just...I have this thing. I don't want to hurt anyone...ever. So I...."

"You give and are afraid to take?" she finished.

I blinked at her. "How is it that you get me so well?"

She smiled shyly. "Just lucky I guess." Then she licked her lips. "But you're just going to have to lie back and take this, Mr. Perfect." Her tongue flicked across the top of my dick and holy shit I saw stars. "If you need to, think of it as me being the one that's selfish."

Her hot mouth enveloped me and I closed my eyes and fell back, letting her take control. And I don't know what kind of magical shit Zoe was doing with her tongue, her lips, her little greedy noises, but she somehow managed to make it seem like I was the one giving something to her, and for that I was so fucking grateful that I shouted the three word realization right at the moment I came into her mouth. She smiled as she looked up at me, still stroking my length, and I knew she thought it was just a reaction to the orgasm, but I knew. I knew it was real and I knew I'd be saying it again and again, at every opportunity.