Starstruck (Heartstrings Duet #1)

13. we meet again

[ 13 ]

WE MEET AGAIN

BAXTER

Five Months Until the Concert

“MY SACRIFICE” BY CREED

“ S o, remember when I mentioned I have an employee who has come up with the idea for a benefit concert?” Jeremy asks from across his desk.

I nod, a vague memory of him mentioning the concert at my album meeting a few weeks back replaying in my mind.

“Well, she had SON!C headlining, and now she doesn’t. They cancelled last week.” He pauses, rolling his eyes. Jeremy exhales before continuing. “She doesn’t know I’m talking to you, and she’ll probably kill me when she finds out that I did, because she said no when I suggested you last week.”

I raise my brows. “Then…why am I here?”

“Because I’m wondering if you’d be interested in headlining. It’s in August, so it will align with when we release your new single and it will be a good way to start promoting RND. Plus, it’ll be good for your image.”

I lean back in my chair, contemplating. He’s not wrong.

“But she already said no,” I argue, partially because he just said so, and partially because even if it does sound cool, benefit concerts aren’t my typical scene.

Performing for free is something I tend to only do in bed.

“Let me worry about that. I just need to know if you’d be interested.”

I cock a brow and open my mouth to respond, but Jeremy raises his hand as I do, stopping me to add, “Before you decide, I should disclose that there won’t be any alcohol permitted at the show.”

My brows pull together. Now it’s really not my typical scene. What on Earth makes Jeremy think I would be a good fit?

“The concert is to raise money for Mothers Against Drunk Driving, and Lennon?—”

I whip my head up at her name. “Wait. Lennon Thorne?!” I shout, rising from my seat. There’s no way he’s talking about her. But what are the chances of another Lennon working at the record label that Thorned Roses started?

Jeremy furrows his brows at my reaction, standing as well. “Ye?—”

“You bellowed, Jere?” a soft, teasing voice calls from the hallway before the five-foot-nine brunette smokeshow in question walks through the door.

She’s dressed in a black, skin-tight leather skirt that stops about mid-thigh, an old Thorned Roses band tee that she’s tied in the front, and a pair of knee-high, black heeled boots. Her shoulder-length brown hair falls in waves, framing her perfect face just right, and it looks like it’s been darkened since I last saw her, making the gold in her eyes stand out. Her eyes are shaded dark with a blush in her cheeks, and her plump lips are glossy—still so damn kissable. She looks like every man’s fucking wet dream.

Fitting, since she’s been mine for the past two months.

Her eyes meet mine from across the room, and time stops. My heart thumps against my rib cage as everything around us fades away .

Lennon Thorne has occupied every space in my mind since the night we spent together eight weeks ago, and now here she is, standing in front of me.

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine walking into this meeting today to see her. But man, am I glad I did.

Her mouth opens and closes like she’s a fish out of water as she blinks, like she’s trying to figure out if I’m really here. She looks so damn stunning, even when she’s in complete shock. I probably have the exact same expression on my face.

“Okay…” Jeremy hums from behind me. His voice snaps Lennon out of her stupor, but I don’t turn around. “Do you guys know each other or something?”

Lennon avoids my gaze as she worries her bottom lip, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Yeah. Or something,” I murmur, unable to tear my gaze from her. I’m afraid if I do, she’ll disappear again. Just a figment of my imagination like I’ve convinced myself so many times in these past few months.

She rolls her lips between her teeth and looks up to Jeremy. “Did you need something?”

God , her voice. It sounds even better than I remembered.

Jeremy clears his throat. “Uh, yeah. Take a seat.”

She moves to do as he asked, so I finally break my stare and do the same. She takes the seat next to mine, and I ache from how close she is.

I squeeze my eyes shut and exhale deeply before crossing an ankle over my knee and looking up at Jeremy. He has a what the fuck? look written across his face, and I can’t quite say I blame him.

I’m confused as hell, too.

“Well, since you guys clearly already know each other, we can skip the introductions.” He turns toward Lennon. “I was thinking Baxter could headli?—”

“Nope,” she rushes out, interrupting him.

I keep my mouth shut. I didn’t tell him I’d commit to the concert, but the second I heard her name attached to it, it was a guarantee. She’ll accept that soon enough.

“Bu—” Jeremy tries again.

“Nope. No. Absolutely not.”

I chuckle. She’s damn determined to not have me be part of this. It’s not surprising, really. She’s the one who insisted our night together would be a one-time-only thing.

But her persistence at keeping me out of it just tells me she feels that spark between us too. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t care.

He sighs as Lennon stands, crossing her arms over her chest. “I told you last week that I would find someone, and I meant it. And while I appreciate the vote of confidence, I’ll find a new headliner on my own.” Her tone is flat, clearly suggesting she thinks he doesn’t believe she will. “I don’t need your help, especially not if you’re going to keep suggesting him ,” she grits out, shooting me an if-looks-could-kill look, which only convinces me more that she’s into me.

I smirk, swiping my tongue over my lip. I don’t watch her, but I can feel her eyes tracking the movement, probably—no, definitely —remembering the things this tongue did between her legs.

“Alright.” Jeremy surrenders much too easily.

I glare at him, wishing he’d fight her more on this, but he relents.

Looks like I’ll just have to convince her myself.

“Are we done?”

Jeremy nods, glancing between Lennon and me before waving his hand toward the door, dismissing us. She spins on her heel and rushes toward the door as fast as she can.

But I’m faster.

We cross the threshold into the hallway, and before she can blink, I grab hold of her wrist and drag her into the nearest empty room .

Once inside, I slam the door shut and back her against it, one hand placed on either side of her head to cage her in. “Think you can escape me, Lennon?”

“Baxter, move .” She pushes me back and turns to open the door, but before she can, I place my hand on it to keep it shut.

I press my front against her back, my resounding chuckle low. “I forgot how feisty you can be, Trouble.”

“Don’t call me that,” she snaps, whipping around to face me again. The furious look on her face instantly fills with lust as her eyes find mine.

As I lean down close to her ear, she shudders. “Still starstruck by me, aren’t you?” I tease, the pressure of my zipper on my cock growing.

Our proximity is clearly affecting her as much as it is me, based on the way her chest rises and falls rapidly. It tells me all I need to know—her attitude is just a mask, and this thing between us isn’t all in my head.

I don’t know how this woman manages to turn me on by simply existing, but fuck, she does.

“Please move,” escapes her lips, her voice breathy.

I smirk, one simple word filling the silence of the room around us. “No.”

We hold each other’s gaze for a moment as her scent invades my senses—the perfect blend of sugar and spice, just like her. Her eyes track my movements as I swipe my tongue over my lips, as if she’s begging me to crash them to hers.

Which is exactly what got us into this mess in the first place.

“You following me, Trouble?”

She crosses her arms over her chest, forcing the slightest bit of distance between us as she scoffs. “Sorry, Lover Boy. You’re not that special.”

I narrow my eyes when she hesitates, urging her to continue.

She rolls her lips together as she flicks her gaze from mine. “I work here. I’m a music publisher an—” she quickly cuts herself off, the weight of her words surrounding me.

I take a step back from her as my brows pull together, a look of betrayal no doubt written on my face.

Jeremy’s words echo in my mind, and my shoulders fall. I should’ve clued in when he mentioned her name in relation to it, but the second the word Lennon fell from his lips, my ears started ringing and all I could focus on was her.

So it was her I saw that day at the elevators. It must have been.

“Why didn’t you tell me? You knew I was signed here, didn’t you?” are the first things I can think to ask. I ignore the fact that she didn’t finish her sentence and only worry about why she hid this from me.

“You being signed here is exactly why I didn’t tell you.” Her face softens. “It was just one night, Baxter. We agreed.”

My shoulders drop in understanding. It was just one night . “You didn’t want me to be able to find you afterward.”

She shrugs. “Clearly, that backfired.”

I turn my back to her, pacing the floor for a moment. But when I face her again, it doesn’t escape me that even though I’ve given her space to leave the room now, she hasn’t.

I sigh, running a hand through my hair as I approach her. “Okay, but that doesn’t answer my next question. Why don’t you want me to perform at the benefit concert?”

“Why do you want to?” she returns. “It’s not your usual scene.”

“I never said I did,” I confess. “But it’s for a good cause, and it sounds like it could be fun.” With her there, I know it would be.

Her brows furrow as she meets my eyes. “You know it’s for Mothers Against Drunk Driving, right? So no alcohol is permitted. Like, at all .”

I tilt my chin down. “Jeremy mentioned that.”

“You’re one of the world’s biggest rock stars. I know you like to drink.”

I huff a laugh. “That doesn’t mean I have to. I can have fun without alcohol. I did that night.” I take a step closer to her, reminding her how sober I was the night we spent together. “You recall that my mom was also killed by a drunk driver, right? If there were any benefit concert I’d want to be part of, it would be this one. So, why don’t you want me there?”

Her face falls, the reminder of my mom hitting her exactly how I intended it to. But then she sighs, a look of contemplation crossing her features, which tells me there’s definitely more to why she doesn’t want me involved.

“C’mon, Trouble. You know the show would be bigger with my name attached. So, why don’t you want it to be?”

She groans, catching her bottom lip between her teeth as she avoids my gaze. “You have a reputation, Baxter…one I don’t need associated with this concert. Trouble— not me —follows you everywhere you go.”

I smirk at her use of my nickname for her, even if she’s not referring to herself.

She’s not wrong—I do have a reputation. There’s a reason my name is often coupled with the words notorious or infamous . I have a history of making bad decisions and not giving a fuck about who I hurt along the way. I prioritize my wants and needs over just about everything else.

I’ve been arrested. I’ve gotten into fights in public. I’ve drank too much and done things most people would regret. There are way too many pictures of me out there, with a different woman on my arm in every one. And I can get out of anything just by saying my name, which doesn’t help people’s opinions of me.

I should feel guilty, but I don’t. I’ve never had a reason to give a fuck about what someone else thinks of me. I’ve lived my life for myself and myself only.

Or at least, I did.

Until that day two months ago when I discovered the eyes of the face on the man responsible for the deaths of Audrey and Brennan resembled ones I’ve only seen in my nightmares for the past eleven years. So I walked into a dimly-lit dive bar ready to drink my sorrows away and found Lennon instead.

My friends would lose their minds if they knew just how much I think about her. Hell, they still have no idea who the her is, though I think it’s about damn time they do.

Because she’s in every single part of me, and she has no idea.

I know she feels more for me, too. No one can have a night like we did and ignore the chemistry. But she’ll never admit it. She’s made it clear that it was just one night for her.

And that’s all it should be for me, too. I don’t feel this way about anyone, let alone women. Something about this one just keeps me coming back for more.

I doubt she knows how much I’ve changed in the past few months. Since the accident and even more so since the trial, I’ve stayed out of the public eye as much as possible. I haven’t been caught drinking. I’ve had no run-ins with the paparazzi. I haven’t been seen publicly with any other women.

But I can’t blame her for not wanting someone who has a bad history of drunken encounters attached to a benefit concert that’s raising money to stop drunk drivers. My mom may have also been killed by a drunk driver, but the public doesn’t know that. And though I’ve never been one to drive drunk myself because of that, I’ve still made some questionable choices under the influence of alcohol that could look bad in relation to a cause like this.

It’s probably for the best anyway, seeing as the more time I spend around her, the guiltier I feel about knowing what I do about the accident that got her parents killed.

And I hate feeling guilty.

So instead I joke, “You didn’t seem to mind my reputation when you were the trouble following me home.”

With an eye roll, she grits out, “ That ,” as she points at me. “That right there is why I don’t want you at my concert. This cause may be personal to you, too, but you don’t take anything seriously. The night we spent together was fun, but it was one night. You’re still you, and I’m still me. This is a big deal, and it’s for my parents. I can’t have you fucking it up.”

I clench my jaw, swallowing. I knew my reputation would come back to bite me someday, I just didn’t expect it to hurt so much when it did.

“Just…go. Please.” She turns her back to me. “I have to get back to work.”

“Fine,” I croak. Pretending she didn’t just rip me to shreds with her words, I add, “But you’ll change your mind.”

And though I don’t say it, I’ll be here waiting when she does.