Page 23 of Crimson Desires
Jack scooted closer to me. The pillow barrier kept us from touching. For some reason, this fact made me more disappointed than relieved.
“Why would I let you down?” Jack asked.
“No. You said that I had to tell you the truth. You never said that I had to explain it.”
“Aster-,”
“Jack, I’m tired. Let’s just go to sleep. Please.”
Jack took a deep breath. His exhale was shaky. “Okay. Goodnight, flower girl.”
“Goodnight.”
I closed my eyes. Sleep washed over me like an onyx wave. I cozied into the covers, wrapping the thick fabric tightly around my body. I tried not to think about what it would feel like to have Jack’s arms wrapped around me instead.
Chapter Seven
Aster
Morning smelled like fresh coffee, pancakes, and bacon.
The delicious scent of breakfast brought me to life. My eyelids fluttered open, and I stretched awake. Yawning, I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes.
Jack stood at the foot of the bed, a box of food in his hands.
He wore a pair of cropped dark shorts that showed off his toned thigh muscles, an oversized navy-blue hoodie, and a black baseball cap with skull and crossbones embroidered onto the front. A pair of expensive-looking aviator glasses covered his eyes.
“Is that your going-out-in-public disguise?” I asked, my voice croaky.
“Something wrong with it?” Jack asked, peering over the top of his shades.
“Nothing wrong with it. But it screams undercover celebrity. I think that if you really wanted to disguise yourself, you’d go full Adam Sandler. Droopy basketball shorts and oversized graphic tees.”
Jack laughed. “Good morning to you too, flower girl.” He set the box of food down on the bed, opening it up. “I got some breakfast for us.”
“Have the other crew members eaten already?” I asked, sitting up. I rolled my shoulders. For the first time in the past several days (scratch that, the past several years), I’d woke up completely refreshed. Not a single ache in my muscles.
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“You only bought food for me?”
“Is there a problem with that?”
I bit my lower lip. I hadn’t minded Jack buying breakfast for me in New York, because it had been an apology for getting me fired. But now that I’d declared us even, it felt weird accepting gifts from him.
On top of that, it felt a little wrong to get special treatment just because the lead singer liked me.
“Okay. So, there is a problem,” Jack concluded, reading my expression.
“I feel weird being treated to breakfast when the rest of the crew has to fend for themselves. I mean, don’t get me wrong. This is nice of you, but-,”
Jack laughed, shaking his head. “You are really good at not thinking about yourself, you know that? The first thing you do when you learn that a celebrity has bought you a delicious breakfast is worry about whether or not everyone else has eaten.”
“You make me out to be some kind of saint,” I scoffed.
“Believe me. You are.”
“I’m really not.”