chapter 18

TEXTING DEX BECOMES ALMOST NORMAL. I send him pictures of Margot, and we banter and even play Legend of Volthorn together. When we're gaming and his voice is in my headset, I can almost forget he's a rock star, can almost forget that the women on the front covers of the magazines at my grocery store probably have his number in their phones. When we're talking like this, it feels... normal. Comfortable.

We're raiding a dungeon together one night when he brings up the gossip column.

"I'm sorry about that article," he says through my headset. His voice is low, genuine. It makes me wish I could see the expression on his face.

"It's fine," I respond quickly, trying to push it out of my mind.

I'm sure this must be common for him, being gossiped about and receiving thousands of comments and messages a day. I thought they'd slow down after that first day, but so far, the vitriol in my inbox shows no sign of stopping. As the number of listens on "Ghost" increases, so do the haters. So I just keep my notifications turned off and try not to let the toxic comments get to me.

She's not really his type, is she?

Haha! Maybe he's playing a joke on us.

This must be a ploy to get Serena back.

My stomach turns each time I think about them. The worst comments are the ones that feel true, that echo my own sentiments. Those are the ones that keep me up at night, tossing and turning and worrying until the sunlight creeps through my bedroom window.

"It's not." His voice is biting this time, so sharp that I stop trying to search for the doorway out of the dark crypt we've found ourselves in. On the screen, Dex's character, a green-skinned ogre, pauses next to my elf. "It's fucked-up. And I'm sorry... I know you didn't want this."

His words take me back to that night we were driving to my orchestra performance. I'd hate it , I told him, referring to all the attention he gets.

Now my chest clenches. Does he think I hold him accountable for this? I'd never considered that a possibility.

"I should've expected it," I say, slumping into my couch cushions. The bag of chips next to me crinkles under my thigh. "And I guess I kind of did, but I never thought it'd be this..."

"Shitty?" Dex answers for me.

"Yeah . . ."

A silence stretches between us, growing and writhing and contorting until it's something I can scarcely stand .

Shaking my head, I wrap my hands around my controller and spin my character around. "Come on. I think the exit's this way."

Dex doesn't say anything, just moves his character to keep up with mine.

But the conversation hovers, lurks over us the rest of the night, and I'm not sure either of us knows what to do about it.

I'VE NOT SEEN DEX SINCE that morning at my condo, so when Ashton calls me a week later to come in for a meeting with the band and their label, I get nervous butterflies in my stomach. Dex will be there, and the last time we were together...

I feel his mouth trailing kisses up my inner thigh, hear the sound of his voice as he whispered, I have to have you .

And remembering makes me wet. It makes me want to lick the chain he wears around his neck.

That night is all I can think about as I drive to the studio the next morning. I texted Dex to ask what this is about, but he said it's a surprise. And weirdly, I love surprises. Especially if Dex Reid is involved.

When I pull into the parking lot, my gaze goes immediately to the glossy black Range Rover parked around the back of the building. Now my heart is beating slightly harder, and I have to steady my breathing as I pull into a spot and put the car in park.

January has drifted away, and the February sun is warm on my face as I step out of the car. It's nice enough out that I have a pair of blue jean shorts on, and the heat is tantalizing against my skin. I miss Colorado in many ways, but I'm not sure I'll ever get over the perfection that is winter in LA .

My white Vans slap against the pavement as I head toward the building. The traffic is loud behind me, like it always is here, so I don't hear the door open, and when I look up, fully expecting to reach for the door handle, what I see instead is a shock of ice-blue eyes under a sweep of blond hair.

Dex.

My stomach does a series of somersaults.

He stands in the doorway, door propped open with his foot, his arm stretching across the entrance so that I can't simply ease by. Cool air drifts out from the interior of the building, sending my straight hair waving in the breeze.

"Hello, Little Monster," Dex says, his voice low and gravelly enough to make me squirm with want.

Instantly, my insides turn to molten fire.

"Dexter," I say in response, and his face lights up with a smile. He's wearing his signature baggy black tee today, paired with forest-green skinny jeans and black-and-white Converse. The cross he wears in one earlobe catches the sun and sends a prism of light reflecting across his stubbled jaw.

I want to bite that jaw, to drag my teeth across his skin.

Fuck.

He still doesn't move, so I stoop to slip under his arm, and his proximity makes my skin prickle with goose bumps.

I've had him in my bed, have felt his tongue inside of me, yet it's done nothing to satiate my need for him. If anything, it's only made me more ravenous.

The door closes with a whisper, and then he's behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist. When he nuzzles his face into my neck, I have to bite my lip to keep from sighing aloud .

I've missed this. So, so much. How is it that one week away from him feels like a year?

"What are these?" he whispers into my ear. His fingertips play with the frayed edge of my shorts, sending electricity sparking across my skin. "Are you trying to punish me for something?"

"You deserve to be punished," I whisper back, feeling sexy and fearless, heart racing with recklessness.

"For what?" His fingers slip under the frayed edge and climb higher, toward the crease at the top of my thigh. My pulse gallops in response, heat building in my stomach.

"For making me touch myself every night since you've been gone."

As soon as the words leave my lips, he growls, and his fingers dig into my skin. Then he's spinning me around, bending over me, his lips coming down on mine. Just like the first time, when he kissed me beneath the neon lights in Velvet, his mouth takes my breath away.

I've kissed boys, but Dex isn't a boy, and he's the only one whose kisses feel like this. This is his fingers slipping under my waistband, his lip ring under my tongue, a need to let him crawl inside of me.

I ball his T-shirt in my fists and pull him against my body. His length hardens against my thigh through his jeans, and I smile against his mouth, victorious.

For the first time, I realize how perfect his little nickname for me is.

He makes me vicious. I really am his little monster.

A breath of surprise sounds from behind me. Pulling away from Dex, I turn to find Morgan standing in the hallway, her eyes wide and her red lips parted in shock. Dex is standing so close to me that I can feel his subtle effort to readjust himself in his tight jeans, his heavy breath rustling the hair at my nape.

Though I've come to like Morgan and her no-nonsense approach to LGC, the jealousy in her eyes tastes sweet. I know that look, have given that look too many times to count. But I've never been on the receiving end of it. And it feels better than it should.

Am I wrong for feeling this way?

"They're waiting for you," she says, her tone clipped, words short. The friendliness she used to look at me with has vanished. Then she turns and walks back down the hall, her wedge heels clopping out an aggressive staccato rhythm.

Was she only friendly with me because she didn't see me as a threat? As competition?

A door slams, making me jump.

"Fuck," Dex whispers behind me. "You're gonna get us in trouble."

"Like you wouldn't enjoy it," I say back, which makes him chuckle.

We head down the hallway, past the recording studio, and into a meeting room at the end of the corridor. Michael, Lucas, and Sebastian are already seated at the big mahogany table, and they look up when we walk in.

I don't know what gives us away—maybe it's my tousled hair and the heat in my cheeks—but Michael is the only one who doesn't look surprised. Lucas's eyes narrow as he looks us over, and beside him, Sebastian blinks his big brown eyes, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. Maybe he was so drunk that night coming home from Velvet that he doesn't remember Dex kissing me at my door under the porch light .

"Nora!" says a familiar friendly voice, and my gaze shifts to the right, where Ashton stands from the table to gesture to the empty seat beside her. "Come in, come in."

My body doesn't want to move from Dex's side; it's like we're magnets and there's an invisible force drawing us to each other, trying to hold us together even as the world tugs us apart.

I force myself not to look back at him and walk around the table to join Ashton. She rolls the plush office chair out for me, and I take a seat, startling a bit at the cold faux leather against the backs of my bare thighs. Across from me, Dex rolls out a chair and sits down. I allow myself to glance at him, but when I catch his gaze, he gives me a heated smirk that sends warmth flaring to life between my legs. Before anyone can notice, I look quickly away.

Seated at the head of the table are four people—two men and two women—I've never seen before. They're dressed in tailored business wear, and looking at their gleaming watches and sharp-edged MacBooks, I can only guess these are the people who run the label.

Who run the band.

"Nora Miller," the man closest to me says, offering a hand for me to shake. "My wife and I saw you at the orchestra this past October. A phenomenal show. Always such a pleasure." His handshake is firm, but not too firm, and his eyes are kind behind his black-rimmed glasses.

The heads of the label introduce themselves, but the whole time, all I'm wondering is why they called us— me —in here for this meeting in the first place. Dex keeps staring at me from across the table, and it takes all my willpower to focus on the label heads and not him. He sure isn't making it easy though.

Finally, one of the men places his elbows on the table, steeples his fingers, and says, "‘Ghost' has far exceeded our expectations. It's LGC's fastest-selling single to date."

The guys let out a round of gruff cheers, and Sebastian pounds his fists on the table—Ashton, however, stops him with a quick cutting glance.

"And," the man continues, "we have no intention of letting this momentum die. So, we want to keep the ball rolling with a music video. And we'd like you, Ms. Miller"—his gaze shifts to me, and I tense up in my chair—"to feature in the video." His smile is kind, unpretentious. He looks genuinely excited. "What do you say?"

I'm not sure what I expected when Dex told me this was going to be a surprise, but I'm fairly certain this wasn't it. I thought maybe, maybe they'd ask me to play on another track, and I would've said yes to that in a heartbeat.

But a music video? My hands go clammy just thinking about it. I'm not even in the limelight, was just seen in pictures with Dex once , and my online life has become a living hell because of it. What is everyone going to say if I appear in a music video with him?

I tear my eyes away from the man, and Dex catches my gaze. The smirk is gone from his face, and now he's looking at me with something like encouragement in his pale blue eyes. And with just that one look, I know he wants me to do this. He doesn't even have to say it aloud.

What should perhaps scare me is that seeing him looking at me like that makes me want to say yes to anything. It feels like I'm wholly incapable of going against him when he has that look in his eyes.

So, without even turning to look at the man again, I say, "All right. I'll do it."

Beside me, Ashton squeals and squeezes my hand. The heads of the label look at one another and share small triumphant smiles. But really, I don't care about them or what they want; I care about Dex, and right now he's running his fingers along his lower lip and smiling, and I'm too caught up in him to even consider what I've truly just agreed to.

There's more to be discussed—dates and contracts and payment—and then everyone is shaking hands and standing from the table and leaving the room in a subtle cloud of expensive-smelling cologne and perfume.

"This is gonna be epic!" Sebastian says, skirting past Ashton to wrap his arms around my waist. He picks me up and twirls me in a circle, and I laugh, somehow perfectly at ease surrounded by these men I used to only see in magazines. "We haven't made a video in forever."

"It's only been a year," Lucas says from where he's leaning back lazily in his chair.

"Well, it feels like forever." Sebastian sets me down and gives me one of his twinkling smiles. "And it'll be more fun with Nora anyway."

"It really will be," Ashton says, elbowing Sebastian aside so she can pull me in for a hug. She's soft and warm, and when her scent—like clean laundry right out of a dryer—washes over me, I feel immediately calmer. "We'll need to get your measurements for the wardrobe team, but I can give you a call tomorrow, and we'll set it up around your schedule. "

"Okay, sounds good."

With Ashton and Sebastian beaming at me like this is the most exciting thing in the world, I admit I actually start looking forward to it. I've never had professional hair and makeup done, and I've definitely never been measured for a wardrobe, so this is bound to be interesting.

Across the room, Dex and Michael are talking quietly, while Lucas continues lazing in his rolling chair, hood pulled up, sunglasses on. As usual, he looks like he partied too hard last night.

Michael's gaze cuts to me suddenly, and Dex's eyes follow. Something about it feels jolting, the way they're both looking at me so intently. Michael averts his eyes quickly, but Dex holds my stare, his lips turning up slowly in a smile.

Beside me, Ashton turns, and one of her eyebrows arches slowly, thoughtfully. Unlike Morgan, her expression doesn't turn feral. She just smiles, nudges me a little, and then grabs her bag from the table and heads for the door.

"Well, I'm off. Bye, Nora! And all of you, be good," she says to the guys as she pulls the door open. Halfway through, she pauses and points one manicured finger at Dex. "Especially you. I'm watching you. At all times. Don't forget it." She gives him a hard stare, then flashes the rest of us a beaming smile before disappearing into the hallway.

"What was that about?" Sebastian says.

"That woman's fuckin' weird," Lucas replies in his half-asleep tone, head still tipped back. I can't see through his sunglasses, but I have a feeling his eyes are closed.

"That woman ," Michael says, stepping forward to slap Lucas across the back of the head, "has your balls in her hand. Show her some respect. "

Lucas grumbles something unintelligible and rubs the back of his head.

Dex catches my eye and tips his head toward the closed door. I move toward him as Sebastian spins Lucas in his chair, eliciting a string of curses and violent threats.

Michael is still standing beside Dex, but when I move over to stand by them, he walks away to go break Lucas and Sebastian's squabbling up.

"You doing anything tonight?" Dex asks. He's standing close to me, so I have to tip my head back slightly to meet his eyes.

"No." Excitement tingles through me. "Why?"

"Wanna grab dinner?"