21. Elodie

ELODIE

“ W e have to cancel the show tonight,” the man from the venue in Miami says. We’re in his conference room as rain pelts the windows, the wind bending trees at an odd angle. Honestly, it’s scary out there, and the urge to get somewhere safer pumps through me. Rachel glares at me and Hunter squeezes my hand in support.

“But we never cancel,” Rachel says on the video call. “Stella’s known to perform no matter what.”

“Well, a hurricane is coming,” the man states the obvious. “The winds, rain, and lightning make it too unsafe to go ahead with the show. The city officials are shutting us down.”

“Fine,” Rachel snaps. “We’ll make up the date on Monday.”

“That works,” I say. Today’s Thursday, which makes Monday doable .

The man from the venue calls the promoter and works out the details. Brian steps forward. “Let’s get you back to the hotel before it worsens.”

The car shakes from the wind, and the driver goes extra slow. Loose palm fronds fly through the air, and I’m afraid we won’t make it back without having an accident.

“You okay?” Hunter asks quietly.

“Kind of scared, to be honest. I’ve never been in a hurricane.”

“It’s only a category one,” Hunter says. “We’ll be safe.”

“Uh-huh.” I give the sky another dubious look as my phone pings.

I take it out, surprised to see it’s Stella. We’ve had a few conversations since last week, since her bombshell. We’re working on rebuilding what we had. It’s been slow, but she’s been opening up more about her life, and her discovering that she is indeed adopted. She’s doing what she can to prove that she trusts me, and I appreciate it.

S: It’s canceled?!

Me: Yeah. There’s a hurricane.

S: But I can’t disappoint my fans. We have to do something to make it up to them on the Monday show .

I shove my phone into my bag. How am I supposed to make it up to the fans? What can I do? I chew it over as we make our way to the room. When we enter, I pace the length of the living room, hoping for an idea to pop into my head.

“What’s going on?” Hunter asks.

“There’s so much pressure on me,” I say, overwhelmed by Stella’s demand. “I can’t disappoint the fans. I’m responsible for them now that I’m Stella. And I don’t know what to do. How can I fix this? How can I help? Stella’s demanding I do something special on Monday since she never cancels. It’s what she’s known for and now we are.”

“It’s not your responsibility to fix anything.”

“Yes, it is. It became mine when I signed the contract.”

“No, it’s not. Life happens. The weather happens.” He points to the massive windows overlooking the ocean. “Accidents happen. None of us have control over any of it, and it’s not your job to make anyone but yourself happy.”

“But that’s selfish, to focus only on me. Of course, I’m responsible for Stella’s happiness while she recovers. And the fans that are shelling out thousands to see her perform. That’s what I’m getting paid for. It’s my job to entertain. It’s my job to make sure my mom is okay. It’s my job to make sure you’re not going to ruin your career because of me.”

“Ella.” Hunter places his hands on my shoulders, grounding me. “None of that is your job. You can’t control another person’s happiness. All the things you listed are Stella’s, your mom’s, and my job to worry about. We’re responsible for our own happiness, and sure, you make us happy by just being you, but that’s as far as it goes.”

I blow out a long breath and search his gaze. “I hear you, but I’m not sure if I believe it?”

“That’s okay.” He rubs his thumbs up and down my neck. “I have all night to convince you.”

“All night, huh?” I jump when the wind and rain batter the window with an intensity that makes me question how safe standing next to floor-to-ceiling glass is in the middle of a hurricane. “Or maybe we need to change our room? Or hide out somewhere safer?”

“Your concern for our safety right now is the exact reason the show’s being rescheduled.”

“I know, but I can’t sit around and do nothing. I’m going to go crazy, and this storm is freaking me out.”

“I know the perfect distraction,” he says.

“You better not say sex.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter.” He grins. “I’ll be right back.”

Hunter disappears into the bedroom for a few minutes before coming back in with a huge smile. “Your distraction will arrive in fifteen minutes.”

“Not going to lie, that sounds sketch.”

“You’ll like it, I promise.” He turns on the TV and finds a movie channel, avoiding all coverage of the storm. I sit stiffly next to him and text with Stella. I can’t concentrate on what looks like a Hallmark movie while she messages me. Hunter keeps glancing at me, but I ignore it until he pulls the phone out of my hands.

“Hey, I need that,” I say, trying to grab it from him, but he holds it out of my reach.

“Stella has no right to make you feel guilty.”

“She’s not,” I lie.

Hunter glares at me and reads the text on the screen. “ What if you extend the set on Monday by a few songs? Make up for the delay by giving them a longer performance. ” He scrolls up. “ What if you debut a new song at the concert? ” He types something on the phone and then locks the screen.

“What did you do?” I screech, jumping onto him.

“Set a boundary.” He oh so calmy lifts me up, sets me back down on the couch, and walks to the kitchen. He then shoves my phone into the highest cabinet. “No more phones tonight.”

“But—”

“It’s for your own good. Let’s focus on right now and getting through this storm. I’m sure Stella’s ideas are coming from a good place, but they also mean more work for you. ”

“We’ve already gone over this; this is my job,” I say sullenly, crossing my arms and pouting.

“Extending the concert or debuting a song you don’t even know isn’t part of your job description. You’re already running yourself ragged on tour. You don’t need to do any more than what you’re already doing.”

I lift my chin and refuse to look at him. He’s helping me, I know that. Of course, I do. But it doesn’t stop me from being irritated at his high-handedness. At the fact that I didn’t think to set a boundary with Stella before now. I guess I’m more angry at myself than him, but I’m too upset to explain that.

“Elodie,” he says. I glance at him in surprise. He used my real name. “Remember when you told me that you felt like no one was looking out for Stella?”

I nod and he scoots closer to me on the couch, so close his thigh brushes against mine.

“That means what’s happening now is not in your best interest. Rachel isn’t working in your favor, or Stella’s, and Stella’s too caught up in that thinking to be helpful. I’m just trying to protect you, and from your reaction, I think I’m going about it the wrong way. But please know my heart is in the right place.”

“I know you’re looking out for me, and I appreciate that. I guess I’m annoyed that I didn’t stand up for myself, that it had to get to a point where you had to help me.”

“Don’t worry.” He cups my cheek with his hand. “ I’ve got years of being an asshole under my belt.” He laughs softly. “Never thought it’d come in handy right now.”

I lean into his touch. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Me, too.” He kisses me so softly, so tenderly, it’s like an apology in physical form. There’s no need for it, but I relish in the feel of his lips against mine.

“Since we have some time, do you think I can meet your mom?”

“My mom?” I parrot, not sure I heard him right. “How is that logical?”

“She’s important to you, and I’d love to get to know her.”

I glance at the time. “I mean, we can try to video her?”

“Please.” He grabs my phone from the cabinet and hands it back to me.

I keep shooting him glances as I press the video button next to my mom’s name. She answers after the second ring.

“Well, butter my biscuits, look who it is,” she says.

“Hi, Mom.”

“What’s wrong?” She squints at the screen. “Have you been crying? Do I need to come over there and use what I’ve learned from The Sopranos on someone?”

“No need, ma’am,” Hunter says, coming into view on the screen. “I’ve got that part covered. Hi, I’m Hunter, Elodie’s boyfriend. ”

“I know who you are. I’ve seen the photos.” Mom’s eyes widen. “Wait, you know she’s Elodie and not…”

“Yes, he does.”

Mom gives Hunter a level look. “And you’re talking to me because?”

“Because I wanted to say hi to my future mother-in-law.”

“We’re not engaged,” I rush to say and give Hunter a glare.

“Yet,” Mom and Hunter say at the same time and then they laugh. Hunter takes my phone from me and starts talking to my mom as if they’re long-lost friends.

Hunter’s the first boyfriend I’ve ever introduced to Mom, and she’s eating it up. I smile while they chat away. When there’s a knock on the door, Hunter says goodbye to my mom and promises to talk to her soon. He answers the door, and comes back in the room with a wheely cart.

“What’s that?” I ask.

“Your distraction.” He unloads the cart and places everything one by one on the kitchen counter. A scale, measuring cups and spoons, a mixer. Flour, sugar, butter, milk. He continues until I can’t even see the counter anymore. “I know you like to bake as a stress reliever, and I thought you could teach me how?”

“Where did you get all of this?” I ask in shock.

“The hotel. I explained that I needed to buy some ingredients, and they were happy to supply everything from their kitchen. ”

Emotions steal my voice. I hug him, hard and unending. “Thank you,” I whisper. “You’re the most thoughtful, kind, and caring person I know.”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” I say. “Don’t brush it off. Not many people would do this for someone.”

“You’re right.” He keeps his arms around me but pulls back just enough so I can see his face. He gives me a meaningful look; one I don’t understand but want to. “But it’s what you do when you love someone.”

I suck in a sharp breath, not believing I heard him correctly.

“Love?” I ask.

“I love you, Elodie. A couple months with you went by in a blink. But it’s not enough, and I want them all. No, I need them all, every single moment from here on out with you. When Stella re-takes control of her life, I want you to move in with me. I want to continue creating this new life we’re building. Together.”

Warmth blooms in my chest, unexpected and intense, like a forgotten seed finally reaching the sun. The love I have for him is like a tangible thing that I feel in our silence, hear in our laughter, taste on my lips, and see when he takes care of me.

“I love you, too.” I lean my forehead against his. “And I want that life, the one where we’re living together and?—”

He closes the distance between our lips, and the kiss is the embodiment of our declarations. Beautiful, magical, life-changing. Something that hovers close to my heart, for me to keep the memory of forever.

Neither of us takes it further than a kiss. Instead, we just enjoy the moment. One where we have all the time in the world to savor one another. Full of deep kisses and pauses where we just breathe one another in followed by playful, light kisses and another break.

It’s the best kiss of my life.

When we finally pull apart, we keep a point of contact between us the entire time we make no-bake, mini cheesecakes. He traps me in his arms while he crushes the cookies in a bowl. When we mix the cream cheese and sugar together, he keeps a hand on my lower back. When I use the mixer to beat the heavy cream into stiff peaks, he nuzzles my neck.

“You’re awfully interested in my neck,” I say, “for someone who wants to learn how to bake.”

“Can’t I be interested in both?” He smirks. “What’s next?”

“Tasting. The most important part is to taste as you go,” I say, taking a spoon and dipping it into the cream cheese mixture before spreading it across his lips. He grabs the back of my neck, bringing my face close to his.

“You try,” he says, guiding me toward his lips.

I smoosh our mouths together and laugh. “It’s delicious. ”

“You’re delicious.” He kisses me briefly before smearing cream onto the side of my neck. Lowering his voice, he says, “I need another taste.” He licks and sucks my neck, and my core pulses in time with his movements.

I run my fingers in his hair. “I need you.”

“I need you more,” he growls. In the next instant, he lifts me onto the counter and helps me out of my clothes. He removes his own in a blink before stepping between my legs, his huge dick already hard and pointing toward me.

A tilt of my hips and he presses forward, entering me in one swift movement. We groan in unison when he’s fully seated inside of me. He’s so fucking huge, and it makes sex with him have the kind of pain that hurts but feels amazing all at the same time. No matter how many times we do this, it’s still overwhelming, all-consuming.

He pulls out almost fully before slamming back in. My tits jiggle with the force of his movement, and his gaze focuses on them.

“Don’t just look.” I push my chest out and he nips and sucks my nipples. I can’t help but clench around him.

“Do that again,” he says, nuzzling my breasts.

“Make me.”

His gaze snaps to mine and he smirks. “Your wish, my command.” Hunter showers my breasts with a series of bites and nips that blur the lines of pain and pleasure when I clench around him so many times, it’s like my pussy is getting her own Kegel workout.

Without warning, an orgasm barrels into me, and I gush around his dick. The next time he pulls out, he glances down at where we’re joined, and my release covering him. His pace stutters before he pounds into me, all control disappearing between one breath and the next.

“You’re going to come all over my cock again,” he demands, rubbing my clit with his thumb. Almost aggressively, he works my body as if he’s its master. My body responds in full. Every place he touches or sucks or licks ignites my fuse.

“I’m close,” I moan. “Oh God, oh God, oh God,” I chant, squeezing my eyes shut.

“God?” He grabs my leg and brings it to his shoulder, changing the angle and going impossibly deeper. “I’m your god now.”

His words catapult me toward the finish line. My body tightens as fireworks explode within my body, all my nerves participating in the orgasm.

It’s overwhelming.

It’s sensory overload.

It’s fucking fantastic.

“Holy shit,” he whispers once we come down from our highs. “I finally understand why you like baking.”

I giggle. “That only happens with you. ”

“I think you’re going to need to open a bakery and bake every day if that’s the outcome.”

“Sure,” I joke. “And we’ll fuck so many times I won’t be able to actually get anything done.”

“Sounds like a dream to me.”

Yeah, it kind of does.