Rocking Her World Always: A Best Friend Little Sister’s Romance Page 2

  It wasn’t his rising fame or his chiseled body that drew me to him. I grew to appreciate those for sure but to a romantic teenager, it was Cole’s blue eyes that haunted my dreams. They were full of compassion that day.

  After meeting him, I listened to his voice so much I knew it as well as my own. I stalked him on social media, hating each beauty on his arm at awards shows. The only thing that encouraged me was no one woman persisted.

  In the five years since I’d last seen him in person, Cole only became more successful. The fact that Cole lived on the opposite coast, was a super famous rock star, and six years older felt like impossible obstacles.

  But my brother’s wife having problems with her pregnancy was not anything I could have foreseen. I hoped that she and my new little niece or nephew would be fine. I had to leave Vermont and staying with Cole was a gift from the gods I was not going to waste. Though how to go about getting him to see me as a grown woman was clearly going to be a bigger problem than I thought. I had to admit my childish daydreams of him declaring he’d thought about me every day and was waiting until I grew up to act on his interest was not going to happen.

  I glanced over at him as he pulled my bags from the trunk. His brow was furrowed in concentration. He looked like a Viking and about as pleased as one too.

  But even grumpy he was fucking hot. I mean I saw him all the time on my Instagram account, but in person, he radiated an aura of energy and power. And his body was all chiseled muscle. He may travel all the time, but he still worked out a lot.

  “Nice car,” I said, waving to Devon as he parked it then retrieved his motorcycle to head back home. I wasn’t a car person by any means, but the vehicle reeked of ‘new car smell’ and anything to get Cole talking could only help.

  “I ordered it while we were touring Malaysia.” His lips were tight as he spoke. “What’s with the cast?”

  “Accident.” I shrugged, following him up to the entrance.

  “How’s the horse?” He asked.

  “Fine.” I was glad for the darkness. I was a terrible liar.

  “Does your arm hurt?” He paused before punching in a code in another keypad to study me under the half-light.

  “A little,” I admitted. “Sometimes a lot, especially at night. I’ve got pain meds that help.”

  “Those are no good.” He shook his head, entering the number.

  The door beeped, and the handle turned easily for him.

  “I’m taking them for a medical reason.”

  “Compared to Vermont, LA is like a different planet.” Cole snorted.

  “I doubt it. Rural America is having a much harder time with drug treatment than the urban areas.”

  “Did you read that in The New York Times?” He shook his head heading down the hall.

  “More like watching those around me fall into miserable conditions at school. The art world is not a pretty place.”

  “Don’t expect LA to be any different.”

  “I don’t.” I scratched my cast out of habit. Nothing stopped the itch inside, but it gave me something to do. “But at least it’s a fresh start.”

  Cole glanced back at me in the hall. “That I can understand. Who doesn’t dream of starting over?”

  My mouth dropped open. Why on earth would he say that? He was killing it with his career. I half expected there to be a line of women waiting for him around the block from his home.

  But I closed my mouth, deeply curious to take in the first impressions of Cole’s place.

  I expected him to live in a modern home with giant ceilings, but his choice surprised me. His house was a 1920s’ Craftsman with five bedrooms, eight bathrooms and a half acre of mature trees. He was very proud of it, I couldn’t blame him. He’d earned it.

  The house was also the space of someone who valued their privacy which wasn’t surprising given how popular Cole was.

  “Sorry about all the security, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.” He gave me a small smile, and my heart rate sped up.

  I had no problem with extensive security.

  “It’s not like in the magazines.” I wanted to clap my hand over my mouth. I sounded like a stalker. Which I was but he didn’t need to know that.

  “It’s never in any media. If I have to, I meet an interviewer in someone else’s home.” He paused. “Do you have any allergies to pets?”

  “Nope.”

  “Good.” He stepped in front of me and opened the last door. A bear-sized blur flew toward us growling.

  “This is Sampson.” Cole laughed.

  His joy was like the sun breaking through the clouds on a chilly day. I was familiar with angsty Cole from his music, but a happy Cole was truly glorious.

  I peeked around Cole to get a better look at man and beast.

  Sampson had his paws on Cole’s shoulders. The dog was massive, clearly a mix of several breeds and missing the top of one ear. He really did look like a bear, but his eyes were of an old soul.

  “Meet Alaina,” Cole said.

  The dog cocked his head, and dropped down to all fours with a thud. He sniffed my offered hand and my cast too.

  I had never owned a dog but not from lack of pleading. My parents were not dog people. Finding a pet-friendly apartment was high on my list.

  I dropped down to him. “Who’s the good boy?” I scratched behind his ears. “What kind of breed is he?”

  “Mostly he’s a Newfie, but I can’t say what else. He’s a rescue. If he ever had any papers, he probably ate them.”

  Sampson padded behind us when Cole showed me around the house.

  “I love architecture. I never got to college to study it, so this is my chance to own some.” He showed me little used rooms for entertaining before passing into the more private areas of the house. I could tell the transition because the large paintings gave way to a hallway filled with framed charcoal sketches of flowers, Sampson, and musical instruments. Naturally, I paused to examine them. They were fantastic. In the corner were the initials “CB” and the date.

  “You did these?” I pointed at the sketches.

  Cole stopped wheeling my suitcase. He shrugged. “Gotta do something when I can’t sleep. Here’s your room.”

  I stepped inside to find a light and airy bedroom. The walls were a pale yellow with crisp white linens. A vase filled with fresh pink poppies decorated the nightstand.

  But it was the bed that made me blush. All I could think of was Cole sharing that bed with me. Meanwhile, Cole was busy showing me the closets, the air conditioning controls, and the extra blankets. Thank God he didn’t notice I was bright red.

  “My room is at the other end of the house, if you need anything, text me. Good night.”

  He and Sampson left me alone, rather abruptly. It was only early evening. But I was feeling the effects of the jet lag, alcohol, and pain meds. I laid down on the bed, feeling tired and yet strangely keyed up.

  It wasn’t like I wanted to be in love with Cole. I dated a few other guys, but my interest in the relationships was half-hearted at best.

  My heart and my fantasies belonged to Cole alone.

  Now we were finally in the same place, and he appeared none too pleased. He was polite but clearly having me here was an intrusion. I fell asleep fully dressed on that ridiculously soft bed, feeling disappointed in how things had started off between us. At least, I felt safe here with Cole, and maybe that was a good enough start.

  * * *

  I was awake before daylight the next morning, that time change was killer. Now though I was hungry and sorry I’d skipped dinner last night. I felt much more like myself. I wasn’t some school girl to moon over Cole. If he thought I was the same kid he met at the wedding, he had a lot to learn.

  I headed to the kitchen we’d passed through the previous evening. It was like a set from a cooking show with fancy appliances, wood cabinets, and stone countertops. I didn’t get the impression it got any more use than the rest of the house.

  With Cole’s schedu
le, I expected frozen dinners and old bottles of ketchup, so I was delighted to find the refrigerator stocked with fresh food.

  I studied the selection of fancy yogurts when Cole’s voice behind me made me jump.

  “What are you wearing?” He demanded.

  I straightened and turned from the fridge. For the record, I was wearing my white string bikini. My eyes narrowed. I never had any complaints when I wore it before. In fact, the results were the opposite.

  “Good morning to you too. Got up on the wrong side of the bed? And in answer to your question, this is a swimsuit.” I crossed my arms over my breasts, letting the refrigerator door close. My nipples were hard, it’d be great to say that it was from the cold air.

  But let’s be real.

  Cole was standing before me in swim trunks. He was all cut muscles and tattoos. I had no doubt he could make a girl come on command.

  Not that I had a snowball’s chance in hell of finding that out for myself.

  His face was tense, and anger rolled off him like a heat wave. “I’m going to the hot tub.” He stalked away without another word.

  I watched him walk away noting one, the back of him was as sexy as the front and two, he was not a morning person.

  Sampson had followed Cole out to the kitchen. Now his big head swung from his retreating master to me standing by the fridge.

  “Oh go on, you big baby. Maybe you can improve his mood.”

  The beast lumbered after Cole, but he did cast a quick glance back at me.

  Cole didn’t have to be a jerk about this. It was clear he wasn’t happy with me here.

  Looking for a simpler problem to solve, I opened the fridge again, resuming my yogurt selection.

  After a few seconds, I slammed the door empty-handed. I’d lost my appetite for breakfast. I needed something stronger.

  And it was time to level up this visit.

  Cole’s house was built high in the Hollywood Hills. The result was jaw-dropping views from every window. The Pacific Ocean stretched out on the western horizon and city of Los Angeles wrapped around everything else.

  I followed the direction Cole and Sampson went off in. I took a few wrong turns on the way, locating a state-of-the-art gym behind one door and a home theater behind another. This place was crazy big.

  Finally, I found the pool area on the upper level of the property. I paused to take in the scene. There was an infinity pool, a hot tub, a lap pool, and several cabanas. I pushed open the sliding glass door and stepped out into the warming California sunshine.

  The pool area at Cole’s rivaled any luxury hotel. But the best part was the privacy. Not a soul besides us. I felt the recent tension from back home start to ease slightly with the fragrant breeze. I was safe here with Cole. He might not be happy about my presence, but I was more relieved than he could know to be here.

  Sampson lay next to the hot tub, his massive body sprawled out like a carpet. I made my way to the hot tub in my apparently offensive white bikini. I was not about to change now that Cole had mentioned it. He could deal with it. I felt his eyes on me as I approached him, though with his sunglasses on I couldn’t see if he was really watching me or not.

  I worked damn hard to get this body. Running, yoga, and riding before the broken arm. I was not about to let Cole ruin my mood this morning.

  But a little help couldn’t hurt.

  I detoured to the fully stocked outdoor bar I’d spied to the left side. Since it was barely eight in the morning, I made myself a mimosa. I was wary of my alcohol with my pain pills after I literally threw myself at him at the airport. But orange juice and champagne wasn’t a big deal.

  Usually, I considered myself a put together person. Events in the last year had tested this image I had for myself though. But with Cole, I seemed to find myself more vulnerable. I worried a lot about appearing weak. Strangely though Cole probably didn’t like certain things I did, I felt like he accepted me underneath it all. Maybe it was just wishful thinking.

  I poured my champagne into a crystal flute without offering any to Cole. I felt pretty certain he didn’t start his day off with alcohol. In the wet bar fridge, I found a glass pitcher of orange juice. After months of wearing a cast, I was good at working around my injured hand. It might not be pretty, but I could get the job done.

  “Is this freshly squeezed?” I sniffed, the aroma of citrus made my stomach rumble. The rubbery chicken on the flight seemed days ago.

  “Organic oranges from my trees here. The kitchen staff pressed the juice for you.”

  “Thank you. What a treat.” I liberally mixed the juice and champagne. The mimosa overflowed the rim, and I swiped at the liquid running down the sides. I didn’t bother to suppress a smile. This was about as far away from how my days started in Vermont as I could imagine. “You’ve got staff? I haven’t seen anyone.”

  “They are paid well to stay out of sight.” Cole tossed his sunglasses on the deck as I stepped into the hot tub.

  The full effect of his glare was impossible to miss. “Tell me you’re legal.”

  “Excuse me?” I almost choked on my drink. What the fuck happened to the nice sweet guy who consoled me five years ago? He’d been replaced by a cranky uptight asshole. “I’m twenty-one and I just graduated college.” I stepped into the hot tub, pausing to get used to the heat. The morning air was cool, but that just made the warm water feel divine as it flowed around my calves.

  “I didn’t ask to see your diploma. I asked if you were old enough to drink that.” He pointed to my champagne flute. It was impossible not to stare at how his tattoos rippled across his muscled chest when he moved.

  Holy fuck. He was hot.

  “I am. Happy now?” I snapped. “For a rock star, you’re kind of a prude.” My muttering morphed into a sigh as I stepped deeper into the tub. The swirling water felt amazing. The few sips of mimosa took the edge off Cole’s sour mood.

  I sank down to the level of my boobs so that they were covered by water. I had to hold my cast out of the water though which majorly sucked. Still, I was not going to miss hot tubbing in Los Angeles because of the stupid cast. Luckily, it was due to come off in a few days.

  “That may be,” Cole reached for a switch behind him to stop the tub bubbles from splashing me. That was thoughtful of him. “But this is my house, and these are my rules. I’m not breaking the law, even for you Alaina.”

  “I wasn’t asking you.” What was he so uptight about? I was hardly going to get carded in his house.

  “Good, then we understand each other,” he said.

  His scowl said it all. He really did hate having me around. That made me feel like a giant empty pit was stretched out before me, waiting to swallow me up.

  Thank god for the mimosa. I needed it. At this rate, I’d be spending most of my time drinking to avoid feeling crushed about Cole. I didn’t have a pill problem but I didn’t want to end up a drunk either.

  “This feels heavenly.” I changed the subject as I rested my casted arm on the edge of the hot top with the rest of my body submerged. “I’m really sorry about all this. I know this is a favor to Ray.”

  Cole glanced over at Sampson as he spoke. The dog had moved to a shady spot on the grassy lawn. His black coat must’ve been heating up fast. “What do you plan to do out here?”

  “I get my cast off in a few days. Then I can start showing around my portfolio to the studios. I’d like to start looking for apartments too. What’s your week like?”

  Cole shook his damp curls before leaning back on the edge of the hot tub. “Lots of business meetings this week.”

  “That’s good.”

  He raised his head and squinted at me. “You have never met my manager.”

  “I meant you could use the rest. You look pretty exhausted.”

  “If I could get to sleep that would help.”

  “That’s the worst.” I shifted my position so that I was floating on my stomach just keeping my cast propped on the tub edge. “I usually do my sketches a
t night when I can’t sleep. Just one of the many ways I’m done with this thing.” I motioned to my cast. “Counting sheep is highly overrated.”

  Cole nodded then he stood up, water streaming off him. I tried not to stare and failed.

  “I’ll be gone for most of today. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. Don’t let Sampson tell you I haven’t fed him. I’ll be bringing us back some dinner.”

  He was out of the tub and gone, leaving a trail of wet footprints rapidly drying in the morning sun.

  “Was it something I said?” I asked aloud, but there was no one but Sampson and me left to answer. He thumped his tail but remained in the shade.

  For someone who made his living from communicating, Cole was not much into conversation.

  I was disappointed he didn’t ask if I wanted to come along. I wouldn’t have minded having a look around LA while he had his business meetings. But he didn’t offer, and it felt rude to ask when he was already going to the trouble of having me here. There were worse things than spending the day in a Hollywood Hills mansion.

  Unfortunately, even in an amazing house, time dragged for the rest of the day. It was evident that Cole didn’t spend much time here. A dog walker showed up twice to take Sampson out. From him, I learned that when Cole was away touring the dog lived with Devon.

  By the time Cole returned, I had hoped he would be in a better mood. He had seemed so at ease at the wedding five years ago. All I could remember was his gentle nature and my abject misery. This broody man was familiar to me from his music but sharing a physical space with him was tenser than I imagined. Though to be honest, I’d not had any realistic idea of what the visit might really entail. Judging from the last twelve hours, my hopes were dying a painful death.

  When Cole did arrive back home, it was with a delicious take-out dinner. But he was his usual subdued self while I tried to draw him out. After dinner, he excused himself to practice piano. Though he was a vocalist with The Charmers, I’d discovered two other music rooms today on my further exploration of the house. He had a whole room of guitars and one room held a baby grand piano.