Chapter 25 This is your room
He stares down at it, then lifting his eyes to mine, smiles and says, “Great minds.”
My heart is flopping around in my chest like a fish out of water.
“How old were we when you made these?”
“Ten.”
“So they’re like … twelve years old.”
“Practically antiques,” I smile.
Natte takes hold of my hand and pushes the platinum chain bracelet that Pine bought me further up my arm. I can see how he looks at it for a while. He removes my friendship bracelet from my hand, placing it on his leg.
Then I watch as he takes his own friendship bracelet and slips it on over my hand and tightens it to fit around my wrist. Then he picks mine up, loosening it, and puts it on his own arm.
I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
“Don’t ever take it off,” he says, his voice deep with meaning.
“Not even to shower?” I swallow
down.
Not even to shower.”
“And you’ll keep yours on?”
“Always.” He takes hold of my hand again.
And my heart leaps out of my chest, then thuds its way back in. I rest back in the seat. I’m going to have to be so careful. Natte is a naturally tactile person, incredibly sweet, and obviously happy to have me back in his life as his friend again. I’m going to have to be very careful to not confuse this with him having any feelings for me in that way. And also to make sure I don’t let my own feelings get confused too.
We talk all the way back to the hotel, and Natte points things out to me important buildings and sites as we drive through this amazing city. Dave parks the car in the hotel lot; we’re staying at the Alpine Resort Grand. And grand is how it most certainly looks from the outside.
When we arrive there is a guy waiting for us in the parking lot, seemingly expecting our arrival. Natte introduces me to him as Trevor. He’s one of Natte’s other security guys. He works under Dave. Security seems a little tighter for Natte here. Maybe it’s because of the hype of the concert, brings the crazies out. Trevor, I’d guess, is in his early thirties and attractive in some way. But not like Pine and Natte.
I follow along with the three men, Trevor wheeling my suitcase for me. We all ride in silence up in the lift, getting out on the top floor. I follow Natte down the hall, Dave and Trevor behind us. Natte stops outside a door and produces a key card from his back pocket.
“This is your room for the next three days.”
He opens the door and I step through. I actually gasp. This isn’t a room. It’s a bloody suite. And a huge one at that.
“Thanks,” Natte says to Trevor and Dave. “I got it from here.”
Trevor parks my suitcase just inside the room and closes the door behind him. I slowly turn around to face Natte.
“Natte, this is awesome … but it’s too much.”
“All the suites on the floor are the same size,” he shrugs.
“But I’m just one person, I don’t need all this room.” I wave my arms around.
“So am I, and I’m staying in one exactly the same as this.” He seems a little irked by my statement.
“I just …” I can’t seem to find the right words. I run my fingers through my hair. “Are all your staff staying in suites like this?”
“Some.”
“Who?”
He meets my eyes.
“And the rest?”
“On the floors below.”
“In normal-sized rooms … rooms that are just that: one room and a bathroom.”
He nods, slowly, not moving his eyes from mine.
“I should be in one of those rooms, Natte.”
He looks a little annoyed now, and also a little hurt.
“I’m not trying to sound ungrateful, Natte, but the first class at the airport, and now this … I don’t want you spending money on me like this.”
He folds his arms. “It’s my money; I can do what I want.”
“I know, but …” I’m at a loss to find a plausible and strong enough argument against him. “I just don’t want to piss your other staff off when they find out I’m staying in such a lovely suite.”
His face lightens. “Shia, you won’t piss anyone off, it’s not in you to be able to do so, and anyway you’re important. You’re managing my every need so I have to keep you sweet so you write nice things about me in your article.”
“Ahh, so that’s what all this niceness has been about.” I kink my eyebrow.
He grins. “Not at all, but if it gets you to stay in this room with no complaint, then I’m sticking with it.”
“Suite … not room,” I correct.
“Whatever,” he waves me off. “So you wanna unpack first or do you wanna meet the guys now, or should I help you just like I used to in the past?”
I glance at my suitcase. Hmm, let me think: unpack or meet rock stars…
“Meet the guys,” I beam.
“Don’t get too excited,” he frowns. “They’re uglier in real life than they look in their pictures.”
“Are you jealous, Natte Johnson?” I tease.
“Me—jealous? Never. Come on.” He opens the door. “I left those idiots in my room draining my minibar when I came to get you, knowing those greedy bastards they’ll still be there, saving their own for later.”
I can hear the male voices laughing and joking as we approach Natte’s door. I get a little ball of nervous energy in my tummy the closer we get. I try to grab Natte’s jacket at the edge without him realizing. I am, in a few seconds, about to be standing in a room with some of the best musicians the world currently has to offer. I’m going to be in a room with the Rossy Forever team! I’d have to be crazy not to be a little excited.
Natte opens his door, allowing me through first, putting me immediately in the living room and I see the guys all sitting around the dining table, playing cards, drinking beer.
“Shia, this is Denis.” Natte stands behind me; he places his hand on my lower back and points over my shoulder at a dark-haired guy who is very cute and whom, of course, I instantly recognize. Even distracted by Denis, I still tense under Natte’s touch. “Denis, this is Shia, my very little friend from Texas, and freelancer for the concert.”
“Hey Shia, it’s great to finally meet you,” Denis smiles at me, running his hand through his short hair.
Finally meet me? So Natte’s already told him about me? Of course he has, dopey, you are their freelancer.
“Hi,” I smile nervously at him.
“And this is Sam, playing lead for us on the concert.” Natte points at the only person in the room I don’t recognize. And sweet baby Jesus, he is gorgeous. Long, messy blonde hair and dark green eyes. He looks like a surfer.
“Hey,” Sam says in a Southern drawl giving me a nod.
“He’s married,” Natte whispers in my ear. I feel his fingers tense against my back.
What? I look up at Natte, wanting to ask him what the hell he meant by that with a look, but he’s not looking at me.
“And not forgetting, Matt,” Natte says, pulling my eyes away from him and back across the room.
Matt has brown hair, shaved close, and he is covered in tattoos, just like Natte. He is really good-looking but he's really not my type, his face is a little too round for my liking; I like my men a
little more chiseled and I can certainly see the allure for the women who love him.