On the Prowl by Kate Rudolph

18

The annoying chimeof Em's cell phone finally roused her out of bed. She reached over the side table with blind eyes and slapped around until she finally found it, unhooking it from the charger and blearily reading the message that had forced her awake.

It was from Stasia. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry." And there was a link right after it.

For a second, Em wondered if her sister had been hacked. But curiosity was too great and she clicked on the link, and once the page loaded, she groaned and turned to her side, burying her face in a pillow.

New flame for Mercy?

The rocker was spotted coming out of her swanky hotel room with a new man, name unknown. Sources close to the star confirm he's not a member of her crew. And given the way they’ve been cozying up, we think sparks might be flying.

Below that nothing of a paragraph, there were a handful of pictures that must have been snapped by the photographer the day before.

What did Stasia have to be sorry about? Em considered calling and asking, but put it off. Em might want to talk to her older sister, and there was no way she was going to confess to that little kiss that she and Andre had shared.

Or not so little. And definitely not little when she thought of his hard length pressed between them.

She rolled to her other side and curled into a ball. Why had she jumped him last night? If she had some sort of magic spell that could send her back in time twelve hours, she would use it.

But with a ghost werewolf prowling the halls, it seemed possible that a spell like that could exist.

No.

She wasn't going to use magic to get out of an embarrassing situation.

Not yet.

It wasn't the stupidest thing she had ever done after a show. That belonged to a night better left unremembered where she was lucky she hadn't been arrested.

Kissing a guy she was supposed to hate—or at least severely dislike—barely scratched the surface of her antics.

But did she hate him?

There was no question that Andre made her feel things that she would rather ignore. It was like every time he was around, he managed to get right to the heart of whatever she was thinking or feeling. No one had been like that before. Especially not someone that she'd known for a matter of weeks and only spent a handful of hours with.

Because if she ignored the fact that she had climbed all over him and unsuccessfully seduced him the day before, he had been pretty decent. Insistent about canceling the show, which obviously she had not done. And critical of her security staff. And he hadn't watched most of her show.

Okay, maybe he wasn't that great. But at least he hadn't been sniping at her.

But knowing that he was somewhere in her suite kept her plastered to her bed. Also the very soft sheets and plush mattress.

But eventually Em had to face the facts and the man that was waiting for her.

Though it would probably be very easy to protect her if she never left her bedroom again.

That was impossible. The buses would be rolling out in a couple of hours once everything was torn down. Normally she would fly to the next city, but for some reason she was traveling with the buses that day. She didn't question the schedule's intentions, it probably all made sense. At least it would give her more time to talk to her band and go over some of the issues that had come up in the last couple of shows.

With thoughts of work in mind, she was able to force herself out of bed and into something resembling actual clothes. She'd managed to take a shower before passing out, so at least she hadn't slept dirty.

But it would be nice to take a shower right now and stall just a little more.

She seriously considered it, but if she was going to get out of the hotel on time, she really couldn't take the extra time to pamper herself.

Em left her bedroom and followed her nose to where she could smell a bounty of breakfast foods being prepared.

Her suite came with a kitchenette, but she was not much of a cook on the best of days, and this deep into a tour, she was subsisting mostly on junk food and whatever Melinda shoved near her face.

Andre was working the two burners of the kitchenette like he had experience working in a professional kitchen. He had pancakes and eggs and bacon all ready for her once she sat down at the small table.

"Orange juice or coffee?" he asked.

Em wasn't about to question his intentions when she was about to receive a delicious breakfast. "Both, thanks." Sometimes a private chef would prepare meals for her that she could heat up, but they hadn't done that for this city. But it was nice to have Andre cooking for her right there.

She could get used to it.

And then she remembered the rejection of his kiss again and knew there would be no getting used to this. It was a nice morning and she would appreciate it while she had it. But she wasn't going to count on him.

"Was the couch terrible to sleep on?" she asked. The hotel hadn't been able to provide a rollaway bed. The couch folded out into something they called a bed, but she was pretty sure was actually a medieval torture device.

Andre grimaced and brought her drinks before going back and grabbing his own plate. "I've had worse," he said.

"Yeah, but weren’t you in the army? Pretty sure a lot of things are worse there."

He shrugged and dug into his food.

He was ignoring the kiss. He didn't look at her like she was anything more than the woman he was protecting. He was being nice, which she could appreciate. But maybe he was just running on some sort of opposite schedule. Most people were grumpy in the morning and got nicer as the day went on. Maybe he started nice and the grumpiness grew by the hour.

It was something to think about.

She was grateful that he wasn't talking about the kiss. For a minute. But she was also pissed. She had taken a real chance there. They could have had a good time. And she definitely would have been willing to sacrifice the prepared breakfast if it meant another kind of morning wake-up call.

Then she took a bite of the bacon and reconsidered. If they could've found a way to mix the sex and also have breakfast, that was what she wanted.

"You can cook," and even she could hear how offensive her tone was.

But Andre just chuckled. "Is that really so surprising?"

It was her turn to shrug.

They didn't talk much during breakfast, but they didn't need to. Andre checked a few things on his phone, and once she was finished, he cleared away the plates.

"So what's the plan for today?" he asked.

Before she could answer, there was a harsh knock on the door. "Thirty minute warning," came Melinda's voice. And then she moved on to the next door, and Em could hear her knocking as she moved down the hall.

"The drill sergeant wants us out. We’re heading to the next town." Em chewed faster. The food was good and she didn't want to leave it behind.

"Flight?" Andre asked, and he seemed hopeful.

"No private plane for me." Her family had one, but she wasn't that big of a rock star. When she flew, it was either first class or chartered. "We’re taking the tour bus."

He just nodded. "Then I’d better go talk with Darlene. Hopefully there isn't an attack while we’re in transit."

And he left her alone to deal with packing up her stuff. It was an act she had done thousands of times, and she was usually alone while she did it.

So why when she threw her shirts into her suitcase and carefully packed away her shoes did she feel lonely?