Starstruck (Heartstrings Duet #1)

31. just tonight

[ 31 ]

JUST TONIGHT

LENNON

“SEX ON FIRE” BY KINGS OF LEON

B axter comes home in sixteen days.

I never thought I’d say it, but fuck , I’ve missed him. I lied when I told him I wouldn’t and when I told him I didn’t. It’s been hard to be apart—this distance has only shone a brighter light on my feelings for him, and it worries me because the concert is now just under two months away.

Which means so is the end of our arrangement.

But even though I’ve been missing him desperately, being apart has forced me to find other things to distract myself with. So now that the setlist has been finalized, I’ve been spending every waking moment focusing on the other aspects of planning the concert: vendors, volunteers, merchandising, marketing, fundraising, and all the other things necessary for a successful show. Though, if ticket sales were any indication, I’m sure it will be.

Getting Baxter as a headliner was truly the best thing I could have done for this show, even if I didn’t want to admit it at the time .

In the past few weeks, I’ve also managed to secure a handful of vendors and created a social media page to advertise, which I’ve been running myself. I’ve had some interest in a donation page for those who want to contribute but didn’t get a ticket, so I got that set up a few days ago. It’s been blowing up, and once I get merchandise created to sell online and at the show, I have no doubt I’ll hit my goal.

I’m in the midst of going through some merchandise options when my office phone rings. I hit save on the Excel spreadsheet and pick it up.

“Lennon Thorne,” I say to whoever is on the other end.

“Hey, Lens,” Addie’s voice comes through the phone. “A delivery came for you. Just letting you know it’s on its way up.”

My brows furrow. I don’t usually get packages sent to me at work, and I haven’t ordered anything for the concert yet, so I have absolutely no idea what it could be. “Huh, okay. Thanks, Ad,” I tell her, confusion laced in my tone. “Wanna tell me what it is?”

She lets out a soft laugh. “You’ll see,” is all she says before hanging up.

A few moments later, a knock sounds on my door. I open it to find a teenager—maybe seventeen—holding a gorgeous bouquet of red roses.

What the hell?

“Lennon Thorne?” he asks, looking at my name plaque on the door then back to me.

“That’d be me.”

“These are for you.” He holds them out to me. They’re already in a vase and everything.

I just stare at them. “From who?”

“I’m not sure, miss. I’m just the delivery guy.” He holds them out farther, signalling for me to take them. I do, letting out an awkward chuckle as he passes them to me.

“Thank you.”

He nods and turns to leave.

I move back into my office, kicking the door shut behind me, and set the roses on my desk. There’s an envelope resting on the top with my name on it.

I pick it up and round my desk, falling back into my chair to read it.

I chuckle, rolling my eyes. Of course, Baxter would have a rider, and of course , he would send it to me in a bouquet of roses. Because why wouldn’t he?

I shake my head, pulling my lips between my teeth as I look inside the envelope. Finding a page with Lover Boy’s Rider written across the top, I begin to read.

I roll my eyes at number five, though an unwelcome feeling strikes me. I know these will be for use with me, but I can’t help but think about the fact that after the concert, he’ll be using them with others again.

The thought makes me feel sick, and I find myself angry that I set an end date for us to begin with. I know it’s for the best, but I still hate myself for it.

I scan the list over again. It’s a pretty typical rider for the most part—excluding the part about puppies and kittens, because why would he make anything easy on me?—but number ten catches my eyes.

My whisky-coloured eyes.

And even though I know better, my stomach flutters at the reference to him needing me.

I smile and shake my head as I pull out my phone to text him.

Me

Puppies and kittens? Really, Baxter?

Lover Boy

Sorry, who is this?

My eyes roll so far back, I swear I can see my brain. It’s not like we’ve been texting daily for three weeks now or anything. He’s so fucking annoying.

But I decide to play along, referring to myself the way he did in the letter.

The one who makes your dreams come true.

Ah, Trouble. I had a feeling I’d be hearing from you.

I chuckle. This man both infuriates and invigorates me, and he knows it.

Number 10 is interesting too.

Number 10 is the most important one on the list.

My heart skips a beat as I read those words.

If it wasn’t already obvious, we’re skating into dangerous territory. No lines have been crossed yet, but I know with nearly absolute certainty that if I let our arrangement go on past the end date I regret setting, I’m going to get hurt. Which is why no matter how much I want to, I can’t change my mind about the timeline.

What are you doing right now?

Sitting at my desk staring at a massive bouquet of red roses. They’re beautiful, by the way. Thank you.

So are you.

My cheeks flush. How is it that this man can jump from being annoying as hell to so damn sweet in the blink of an eye?

Next thing I know, my phone is ringing, the photo of Baxter that he set as his contact picture filling my screen. I startle, nearly dropping my phone before quickly hitting the green button to answer.

“H-hello?” I stutter, caught off guard by the call. We’ve done a lot of texting in the past few weeks, but we’ve never spoken on the phone.

Ever.

“Hi, Lenny girl,” comes through the other end, and heat rushes to my core.

“Hi, Bax.” I pull my bottom lip between my teeth. “Why…why are you calling?”

I hear him swallow before he says, “I have about an hour before I need to go to soundcheck.” He pauses. “Wanted to hear your voice.”

I can’t help the smile that forms on my face. “How are things going?”

“Fine,” he states without much conviction. “How are things there?”

I nod even though he can’t see me. “They’re good. Things with the concert are coming along nicely. ”

“Good,” he says gruffly. It’s silent for a moment before, “What are you wearing right now, Trouble?” comes out of him.

I burst out laughing. “Oh, so that’s why you called, eh?”

“What can I say?” he grunts, his voice raspy. “You have me addicted. I can’t get enough of you. Three weeks is too long without making you come.”

My cheeks heat as my eyes widen to saucers, his words shocking me to my core. It’s no wonder this man writes his own songs—his words alone are enough to make me fall for him. “Bax, I can’t right now. I’m at work.”

He chuckles. “Like that’s ever stopped us. Don’t you remember where this whole thing between us started?”

I scoff. “That was after hours. There was no one around.”

“Then how do you explain the other two times we fucked in your office? Those were both in the middle of the day.”

I chew on the inside of my cheek. He’s got me there. I guess you could say I have a new appreciation for public sex. There’s something thrilling about it.

I look through the window into the hallway. No one’s around right now either, so I get up, closing the blinds and locking the door before shutting off the light.

They can just think I took a late lunch.

“Fine.” I make my way back to my chair, glancing down at my outfit. “I’m wearing a flowy, cream-coloured dress that ends just above my knees with a pair of black, lace-up heels.”

He groans, causing me to smirk. It doesn’t take much to drive him crazy. “Really, Trouble? A sundress when I can’t see you? You’re mean.”

I swear I can hear him pout, which elicits another giggle from me. “It’s not a sundress. But you did tell me that it turns you on when I’m mean to you.” I pull my bottom lip between my teeth. “So, how am I doing so far?”

“Why don’t you come find out for yourself?”

I really, really wish that I could. But I don’t tell him that. “ Sorry, Lover Boy. You’re gonna have to wait until you finish touring to remind me just how hard I make you.”

But damn, I do wish I could see him sooner. These next two weeks are going to suck.

Another groan falls from his lips. “Are you touching yourself, Trouble?”

I reach down, pulling the skirt of my dress up and pushing my panties to the side. My middle finger skates over my clit and I gasp, my eyes fluttering shut. “I am now.”

“That’s my girl,” Baxter praises.

My stomach flips at his words. He really is making it so damn hard not to fall in love with him.

“What about you, Lover Boy? Are you touching yourself?”

“Oh, baby. I’ve been jerking off since you answered the phone.”

My eyes widen, and I smirk, pressing my finger harder against my bundle of nerves. “Bax…” I moan as I pick up speed, moving my finger in circular motions.

He hums. “That’s it, Lenny girl. Pretend it’s me. Pretend it’s my fingers between your legs.”

I do as he says, picturing his finger swiping over my clit while he kisses his way up my thighs, and I whimper.

“Are you close, baby?”

I nod even though he can’t see me, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth. My movements get shaky as I push myself closer to the edge, a moan falling from my lips.

“Mmm, yeah you are, Lennon. So am I. Keep going, we’ll get there together.” His voice is slightly unsteady as he speaks, but the gruffness in his tone has blood rushing to my core. Hearing how turned on I make him is so goddamn sexy. “Let me hear you.”

“Bax, I—” My words get caught in my throat as I continue my movements. Before I know it, a wave crashes into me. I cry out as I fall over the edge, Baxter’s groans filling my ear as he reaches his climax, too .

My chest rises and falls as I catch my breath, the sound of Baxter’s heavy breathing mixing with mine. I pull my skirt back down, and after a beat, a raspy chuckle falls from his lips.

“You’re a bad influence on me, Trouble.”

A smirk crosses my face. “You wish, Lover Boy. If anyone here is a bad influence, it would be you.”

“I don’t know, Lenny girl. You almost made me late for soundcheck.”

I roll my eyes. It’s definitely him and I know he knows that—he’s just being his typical annoying self. “Whatever you say, Bax.” I bite my lip, my face falling as I glance down at my gold watch. “But speaking of…you probably should get going.”

I hear some shuffling on his end. “Yeah,” he says sadly. Clearing his throat, he adds, “I’ll, um…talk to you soon.”

His hesitation makes me giggle. “Okay, Bax,” I tell him. “Have a good show. Talk to you soon.”

…I love you.