Forbidden Billionaire Rockstar (Raising Havoc Bandmates #4)

19. Mallory

19

Mallory

This is impossible.

Clothes litter my bed like fallen soldiers, each outfit a failed attempt at perfection. With less than an hour until Jace arrives, panic creeps in. This isn’t a date, I remind myself. So why does it feel like I’m preparing for battle?

It’s not a date. He’s just trying to get back into my good graces.

I’m not entirely sure why I agreed to the not date in the first place, but I can’t back out now and that’s why I’m struggling to figure out what I’ll wear. Luckily for me, only a single floor separates me from my best friend and she’d love nothing more than to help me with this.

Before any more time passes by, I quickly slip my feet into a pair of slippers, push through the door, and hurry down the hall full of nerves. It doesn’t take long for the elevator to open its doors onto my brother’s floor, and even less time for me to come to a stop in front of his door.

He’s going to wonder what I’m doing here. I’m sure something will come to me in the heat of the moment.

I tap my knuckles against the thick wood and hold my breath as I wait for him to answer. He pulls it open slowly, a frown on his face when he sees me standing there, and he leans against the door frame.

“Mal, what’s up?”

“Uh, I need your wife.”

His brow furrows, and he steps out into the hall, shutting the door softly behind him. “She’s not feeling well today. Is it anything I can help with?”

My cheeks heat, and he nods in understanding before I can get a word out. “Ah, is this about Trevor?”

Trevor?

“What about him?”

He sighs. “I’ll admit, I was against it at first, but I think dating someone would be good for you. Is that what this surprise visit is about? Going on a fancy date?”

The idea of him thinking I’m dating one of my clients has my stomach filling with dread, but at least he’s not questioning me about one of his best friends. I clear my throat and nod, giving him a small smile. “Sorta, I’m struggling to pick out an outfit.”

I can tell he’s about to offer his help even further, but the door behind him opens, and Julia pokes her head outside with a small smile. “Dear God, please don’t let him help you. I’ll meet you up there in a few, babe.”

“Hey,” Brent says, a look of offense in his eyes. “I would be a great helper.”

“Whatever you need to make yourself feel better, babe,” Julia says with a chuckle.

While she disappears back into the room, Brent and I stare at each other silently. He clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair. “Just be careful, sis, there’s something about him that doesn’t sit right with me?”

“Would you rather me go on a date with Donny or Jace?” I mask my expression, but I’m asking this question for a reason — to gauge his reaction to the idea.

Might as well get his emotions out of the way now.

Brent bristles and shakes his head. “God, no. Donny has too much going on with his family, and Jace isn’t the dating type.”

“How would you know?”

He arches a brow. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

I chuckle, then nudge his arm. “Nah, just trying to get under your skin like a little sister should.”

“Go, get ready for your date.”

The idea of being able to tell Brent about Jace and the feelings I’ve come to have for him has been taken completely off the table. That’s not my concern tonight, though. Right now, I need to come up with the perfect outfit, and Julia is just the person to make that happen, since my wardrobe is nothing like it used to be.

Only forty-five minutes until Jace gets here, and I’m nowhere near ready.

Old Mallory would've had this in the bag - the perfect outfit, the flirty smile, the confidence to match. But New Mallory? She's like a fish out of water, floundering in unfamiliar territory.

It's not just about the clothes; it's about who I am now versus who I used to be.

I wonder if Jace sees the old me, the new me, or something in between. And which version does he prefer?

***

Julia stares at me as I look at myself in the mirror. It’s not the best outfit for a night out in the city, but it’s the only thing we could scrounge up with her wearing maternity clothes at the moment and me only packing work attire.

I hadn’t anticipated I would be going out on a date.

Not a date , I tell myself.

“So, a date, huh?” Julia asks, finally voicing the question after sitting silently on the edge of my bed with a hand placed over her stomach.

“No,” I mutter while pulling at the edge of my skirt to cover more of my ass than it does. When I turn around to face her, it’s like the action never happened, and the skirt sits just where it was seconds before. “Just going out.”

She hums in response, then flicks her gaze over my frame and sighs. “God, I wish I still looked like that. Instead, I’m a balloon.”

“A very pretty balloon,” I say with a smile.

“You look hot, but are claiming this isn’t a date.”

Just because I’m claiming it’s not one, doesn’t mean I don’t want it to be one. I’m not going to say that part aloud, though, considering Jace is the one who came up with our agreement in the first place. If he wanted something more than casual hook-ups while on the road, he wouldn’t have come up with it.

Like I gathered before, he’s only doing this because he wants me in his bed. It’s nothing more, and nothing less.

“It’s not.”

Julia watches me curiously, then smirks. “You want it to be, though.”

Leave it to my best friend to know exactly what I’m thinking without me ever having to say it aloud. I roll my eyes and sigh. “Well, it’s never going to happen.”

I’d be stupid to deny what Julia clearly already knows.

“And you know that? How?”

“Have you seen him?” I mutter, my eyes flicking to the clock that’s slowly creeping its way toward seven.

It’s torture at this point.

“Not sure what you’re getting at.”

I wave my hands over my frame and frown. “There are women better suited for him, Jules.”

She frowns and rises slowly from her place on the bed, then comes to a stop in front of me. There’s a few inches of space between us, since her belly gets in the way, and I feel the baby’s tiny kick as we stare at each other.

“Why do you think so little of yourself?”

I dart my gaze away from her and focus on a random spot on the floor instead. “I don’t.”

“Bullshit,” she mutters, then places her hands on my shoulders. “I’ve been watching you beat yourself up, trying to prove you’re someone else, and tonight, that all goes out the window. Got it?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Even if she was wrong, we can both hear the emotion in my voice, but our conversation is halted when a knock sounds on my hotel room door and I straighten my spine.

“Don’t get in your head, Mal,” Julia says softly. “Maybe I’m not the only one who sees the wonderful woman you are.”

Julia’s words hit home, exposing the raw nerve of my insecurities. I’ve spent so long trying to reinvent myself, to prove I’m more than my past. But in doing so, have I lost sight of who I really am? And more importantly, is that person someone Jace could actually want?

She nudges me toward the door, where Jace is waiting for me on the other side. I take a deep breath before pulling it open. The sight of him takes my breath away.

He’s not wearing his usual band tee with a pair of ripped jeans. Instead, he’s got a nice button-up on, which looks brand new, and a pair of dark wash jeans that mold beautifully to his hips. His hair is slicked back but still has that tousled look to it, and my fingers twitch with the need to run my fingers through the strands.

Not right now.

Jace silently trails his gaze over my frame, eyes taking in every inch of me, and I fidget under the stare. It’s like he’s undressing me with a simple gaze, setting my skin aflame, and a bead of sweat forms on my forehead.

“You look… beautiful,” he manages to say, then holds a hand out to me with a small smile. “Ready?”

I place my palm into his and take a deep breath, only glancing back at Julia briefly, who’s got a bright smile on her face with her thumbs up in the air. “As I’ll ever be.”

We’re silent, his fingers still thread through mine, as he leads the way down the stairs and through a door that opens at an alley at the back of our hotel. There’s a car waiting for us, its LED headlights nearly blinding me, and I let Jace pull me toward the back door as I dart my gaze along the darkened stretch of pavement.

There’s no one watching us, so that’s a good thing.

If only that would ease the worries deep in my gut, but that doesn’t stop me from sliding into the back seat, with Jace following closely behind me.

***

The restaurant is a hidden gem, tucked away from the bustling city streets. Soft jazz music floats through the air, mingling with the clinking of glasses and murmur of conversations. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the dark wood tables and plush velvet seats. It's elegant without being stuffy, intimate without feeling cramped. Jace guides me to a table in a secluded corner, partially hidden by a lush potted plant. It's the perfect spot for two people who aren't supposed to be seen together.

“I hope this is okay,” Jace says once we’re seated at a table located in a far corner, away from prying eyes.

It’s not completely hidden, still giving a few patrons a view of us if they wanted to look around, but it’s secluded enough that some of my earlier worries fade slightly. Jace has been doing this for a while, so I’m sure he knows exactly what he’s doing, and my worries are nothing more than overthinking.

“It’s great.”

“How has work been going?”

I sigh heavily and shrug my shoulders. “Good.”

Trevor likes to talk about his family, and he was telling me all about a talk he had with his little brother over the phone that had me laughing hysterically. Apparently, the little dude is a lady’s man, always coming home to talk about his latest girlfriend — he’s only in elementary school, so it’s harmless and adorable.

The memory fades as I refocus on the present, realizing I've been lost in thought during my dinner with Jace. His voice pulls me back to reality, reminding me of where I am and who I'm with.

“You seem to be deep in thought,” Jace announces as he leans back in his chair with a brow raised. “I must not be doing good if you can’t focus on our dinner.”

I shake my head, giving him a small smile. “It’s nothing, just something Hilary said to be the other day.”

“I’m all ears.”

“She made a comment about me flirting with Trevor, told me it was unprofessional, even though that’s the last thing I would do.”

Jace nods. “Is it?”

I pause, caught off guard by the intensity in Jace's eyes. "No, it's not," I admit. "But sometimes I wonder if that's all people see when they look at me - the flirt, the party girl. Like I'm incapable of being professional."

Jace leans forward, his voice low. "Is that why you've been pushing yourself so hard? To prove them wrong?"

His question hits close to home. I fidget with my napkin, avoiding his gaze. "Maybe. Is that so bad?"

"Not bad," he says softly. "But exhausting, I'd imagine. Always trying to be someone else."

His words hang in the air between us, loaded with meaning. I wonder if he sees through my carefully constructed facade, if he understands the battle raging inside me. And if he does, why does that both thrill and scare me?

“I worked hard to be here. I’d never jeopardize my career by forming a relationship with my client. He’s a sweet guy, but there’s nothing there aside from friendship.”

What I’d really love to say is that Trevor doesn’t get my heart racing the way Jace does. Trevor’s not the first guy I think about each morning I wake up or the last one I think about at night. My body doesn’t feel like it’s an inferno the moment Trevor locks eyes with me.

It’s nothing like that.

Something about Jace always catches my attention. Whether it’s the way he concentrates on the chords, he strums when he thinks no one is watching him, or how he clenches his jaw tightly when he’s angry.

I feel nothing but warmth when I find his gaze on me, even though I try my hardest to ignore it, and there’s no one else who can get that reaction from me.

No one else I want that reaction from.

The realization sneaks up on me. When did Jace become the standard against which I measure every interaction? And, more importantly, what am I going to do about it?

As we sit across from each other, the air between us feels charged, like the moment before a thunderstorm breaks. Every glance, every accidental brush of hands sends sparks flying. We're dancing around the elephant in the room, neither of us brave enough to acknowledge it.

I catch Jace's eye over the flickering candlelight. For a moment, I see a vulnerability there that matches my own. It's gone in a flash, replaced by a warm smile. But it's enough to make me wonder - what if we're both more invested in this than we're letting on?

The night stretches before us, full of unspoken words and possibilities. And as Jace's hand brushes mine as he reaches for the wine, I realize I'm not ready for this evening to end. Whatever this is between us, whatever it might become, I want to see it through.

Consequences be damned.