Stone Cold Notes: A Rock Star Romance (The Seasons Change)

“NEED YOU IN MY BED WHEN I GET BACK, Little Bird.”

“I need to be there too.”

“I’m gonna be selfish and ask to have you to myself.”

“Jenny can watch Ez. I miss you.”

“Fuck, I wanna feel you sayin’ that against my skin.”

“Then I wouldn’t miss you anymore.”

“Need to feel it. Need it.”

“Then I’ll say it.”

Two weeks had gone by since Ezra’s first sleepover at Callum’s place. We’d done another sleepover the following weekend, then Callum was gone. He’d been out in LA for the last week, shooting music videos and making appearances. By the middle of the week, we were both aching for each other.

I had to think it was a little easier for me because when I wasn’t working, I was with Ez and Jenny. When Callum wasn’t working, he holed up alone. I knew that because the second Ez went down for the night, Callum called me and stayed on the phone until I fell asleep, even if I was watching TV with Jenny or doing some cleaning. He wanted to hear me and be present with me from the other side of the country.

Jenny judged at first. And yeah, it was intense and might’ve seemed strange, but that was Callum. He needed the connection we had, and maybe he realized I needed the reassurance that, even though he was gone, I was still at the very forefront of his mind.

But now, he was back, and after a reunion that involved me jumping on him the second he’d opened his door to me and him kissing me so hard and for so long, my lips were puffy and tingly, we were going to a party.

A party!

Saul Goodman, CEO of Good Music, technically both our bosses, was hosting a party for some of his artists at his penthouse. Callum promised he had to go, be seen, and then we could make our exit. Back to his place, back to bed, our introverts’ paradise.

I stood in his bathroom, touching up the makeup he’d kissed off. My dress was slightly rumpled from being rucked up around my waist when he fucked me on the kitchen counter five minutes after I walked through the door, but I liked that. It was like a secret between us.

Callum wandered in, yanking his shirt over his head. He had a fresh one in his hand, but he stopped behind me, running his hands over my hips and sides, watching me in the mirror. His hair was mussed from my fingers dragging through it, and I liked that even more than my wrinkled dress.

“Hi.”

His chin propped on my head. “Hey, beautiful girl. Almost ready?”

“Almost.” I raised a brow at his bare chest. “Are you changing clothes?”

“Just my shirt. My girl turned into something of a hellcat and ripped the collar.”

I whipped around with wide eyes. “No. Did I?”

He grinned. “You did, Little Bird. I’m gonna frame that shirt.”

“Well, maybe if you’d taken it off—”

“So you’d rip my skin apart instead?”

I giggled. “I’d never hurt you and—” I stopped speaking.

“Wren?” Callum tipped my chin with his knuckle, trying to catch my eyes, but my focus was on his chest. Specifically, the tattoo that hadn’t been there when he’d left New York last week.

“What is that?” I breathed.

He actually looked down, as if he didn’t know what I was referring to. “Oh yeah. I got a new tattoo when I hit LA. My guy is based out there. I hit him up when I’m there and lookin’ for ink.” He dipped down and touched his nose to mine. “Speak, Wren. Do you like it?”

On his chest, right over his heart, was my name inked in black. Written in flowing script, the W had wings and looked like a little bird taking flight. There was nothing subtle about this design. There was nothing abstract about his intentions in getting this tattoo. He had my name on his body. Permanently.

“You didn’t tell me you got this,” I whispered.

“Wanted to show you in person. Do you like it?”

I brought my hand up to touch it but stopped myself. Callum caught my wrist and placed my palm over the tattoo.

“It’s almost a week old. You can touch it as much as you want,” he said.

My eyes finally flicked to his. “This is intense.”

He flinched, but only slightly. “It is.”

“You’re intense.”

His nostrils flared. “Not a surprise.”

“No.” I shook my head. “It’s not.”

“I need you to answer me. Do you like it?”

“I don’t—” He stiffened when my eyes fell back to the tattoo. It was pretty. The lines were crisp. The design was clever. Almost sweet, especially among Callum’s harsher, more Gothic tattoos.

No, it wasn’t almost sweet. It was the single sweetest thing I’d ever seen. The shock was wearing off, replaced by tenderness. I leaned in and touched my lips to the skin beside the W, just in case it was still sore. Callum groaned and cradled the back of my head.

“I like it,” I murmured into his skin. “I missed you, baby.”

He curled around me to hold me in his arms. “Never gonna get enough of you. I needed you under my skin for everyone to see. But you were already there. Always been there.”

“Same for me, Callum.”

“Not freakin’ out?”

I breathed a laugh. “I did for about a second, but I got over it really fast.” And slipped even deeper with him.

We left a few minutes later. If we’d stayed a second longer, we would have ended up in bed. Once we were in bed tonight, we weren’t leaving.

And we had a party to attend.

Bodyguards checked our names on the list and allowed us to enter Saul Goodman’s palace. The lights were dim. Music and conversation filtered through the air. The grand, open living room wasn’t packed, but it wasn’t empty either. As we wandered through the crowd, I recognized face after face. This party was a groupie’s wet dream.

Callum and I stopped at one of the bars—one of the bars! There were multiple freaking bars—and continued wandering with drinks in hand. I nearly spilled mine when I heard my name shrieked from behind me.

“Wren Anderson, oh my god!”

Callum and I swiveled around, finding Adelaide Goodman stomping toward us with an old, bulldog-faced man on her arm. I really hoped that was her dad and not her date.

“Hey, Adelaide.” My smile was genuine. She was a ray of absolute sunshine day after day, always stopping by my desk to gossip and shoot eye daggers at Natalie. I had definitely added her to my list of friends. “I didn’t know you’d be here tonight.”

“Same, girl.” She and her old man stopped in front of us. “Dad, this is my work bestie, Wren Anderson. She’s an angel and brightens up the lobby every day. Wren, this is my dad, Saul. He’ll probably tell you to call him Mr. Goodman because he’s a dick like that. And Dad, I’m one-hundred-percent sure you know Callum Rose, Wren’s towering, hottie boyfriend.”

Saul Goodman didn’t even flinch at his daughter’s evaluation of him. “Welcome to my home, Wren.” That was all I got, which was fine. Saul didn’t give off the best vibes. I wondered how Adelaide could have possibly come from him. “Callum Rose. What a pleasure to have the recluse of The Seasons Change in my home.”

Callum tipped his head and pulled me flush to his side, his arm wrapping around my back. “Thanks for having us. This’ll count as my once-yearly sighting.”

Saul boomed with laughter. “No one told me you were funny, Rose.”

Callum stared back impassively. I filled the silence with a giggle.

“He makes me laugh. Always,” I said.

Adelaide’s eyes rounded. “Oh yeah, he seems like a real jokester.” She extricated herself from her dad’s arm, then tucked her arm in mine and began walking. I had no choice but to follow her, Callum with me since we were attached. “Anyway, I spied the rest of TSC near the hors d’oeuvres. Rodrigo was stacking crab cakes on his plate six deep. I grabbed one before he cleaned us out of them, and they were exquisite. Chef’s kiss and all that jazz.”

“Oh. Well—”

“Look!” She pointed to the area near the floor-to-ceiling windows. “There they are.”

Heads came up as we approached. Iris with a tall, impressively wide man in a spectacular suit, Rodrigo and a beautiful woman with a sheet of black hair, Adam between an adorable woman with apple cheeks and wavy brunette hair and a silver fox I recognized as Dominic Cantrell, rock legend. All of them watched with rapt attention as we joined them.

Adam was the first to speak. “Fuck. I don’t believe my eyes. Is this real life?”

Iris stepped forward and pecked me on the cheek. “What my rude friend means is hello, we’re happy as hell to see you, Wren.” She motioned to the man behind her. “This is Ronan Walsh, my man. Ronan, say hello to Wren.”

The man, who made Callum seem small, reached out a hand, which I shook. “Nice to meet ya, Wren.” Holy granola, he had an Irish accent. Swoon.

Callum tugged me away from him, and I swore he growled under his breath, even as he tipped his chin to Ronan.

Next, I met Rodrigo’s girlfriend, Hope, who was something of a world-famous DJ. Plus, she was insanely hot. Then Adam kissed my cheek and whispered, “Hi, cutie,” to which Callum responded by shoving his shoulder. Adam didn’t look upset for even a second, but that was probably because he’d been intentionally pushing buttons. He threw his handsome head back and laughed his ass off. Callum’s mouth twitched.

Adelaide was still mixing it up with Iris like they were old friends when I was introduced to Claire, the woman with the apple cheeks and wavy brown hair, and her husband, Dominic, who was even more intimidating up close. Until he looked at his wife, then everything about him softened. There was a definite age gap between them, but it didn’t seem to affect the deep love they had for one another. Just meeting them minutes ago, it was already obvious.

Swoon again.

Callum and I were talking to Dominic and Claire about their baby, Georgia—well, I was talking, he was holding me as close to his side as humanly possible without slicing himself open and inserting me beneath his skin—when Rodrigo drifted over and draped an arm over Claire’s shoulders.

She nudged his ribs with her elbow. “What’s up, boo?”

He grinned and nudged her back. “I’m here to ask Wren a question.”

“Is it inappropriate?” Claire asked.

“Have you met my girlfriend? She’ll kick my ass if I even think of asking an inappropriate question.”

Claire held her hand out, gesturing to me. “Then ask.”

I took a long pull of my drink in preparation.

Rodrigo’s eyes alighted on me. “What did you think of the tattoo?”

Just when I thought it was impossible, Callum held me tighter. I breathed easier, though. This was a question I could answer.

“It was a big surprise, but I really love it.”

Roddy grinned. “Yeah? ’Cause I went with your man when he got it and tried to talk him out of it.”

I tilted my head to lean on Callum’s arm. “I’m glad he didn’t listen.”

“What’s the tat?” Dominic asked.

My tongue darted out to moisten my lip. Claire, I was comfortable with. Dominic made me tongue-tied. Fortunately, Roddy spoke up for me.

“Cal’s got Wren’s name over his heart. It’s a pretty sick design, but yeah, it’s her name.”

Claire smiled at me, and her cheeks pinkened in the sweetest way. “If you both like it, that’s all that matters, right? Callum obviously knows you better than Rodrigo.”

Roddy crossed his arms, faux pouting, which was funny on his tattooed, muscle-bound frame. “Wren and I go way back. She almost took your best friend spot.”

Claire slapped his arm. “That’s not nice. We have matching tattoos. I think my spot is pretty firm.”

I laughed. “You have matching tattoos?”

Claire and Rodrigo showed me their wrists, and yeah, they both had a tiny moon and sun in black ink. It was cute and made me think maybe I’d want to get Callum’s name on me. Someday. Not now. Not soon either. But maybe someday.

“We don’t even have matching tattoos,” Dominic groused.

Claire rubbed the center of his chest. “I have your lyrics on my skin and in my soul.”

His eyelids lowered, and the look he gave her was so heated, I had to glance away. “Yeah, you do,” he murmured.

Adam shoved himself into our circle. “Are you talking about the tattoo?”

I waved him off. “The topic has been covered. I love the tattoo, it’s not the kiss of death, etcetera.”

He folded his arms over his chest. “Well, all right, Wren. I like the way you shut me down and put me in my place. I like that for my boy.”

Hope shimmied in between Adam and Roddy. “Someone put Adam in his place?”

Rodrigo wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Wren told Adam he was being dumb.”

My cheeks flamed. “I definitely didn’t say that.”

Callum stroked my hot cheek with his thumb. I peered up at him, and he was already watching me, the corners of his mouth curving.

“Hi,” he whispered.

“Hey, baby,” I whispered back.

“Well…” Iris pushed Adam aside to join our circle, “that’s new. My Callie’s a sweetheart.”

I tore my eyes from Callum to grin at Iris. “He is. The sweetest heart.”

Sighing, she threaded her fingers through Ronan’s hand. “Okay, so are you going on tour with us or what? You and your son are invited, and I can’t see Callum surviving an entire summer without you. He was practically crawling out of his skin the entire time we were in LA.”

“Oh, well, I don’t think—” I shook my head. “I have a job and—”

Adam made a face. “You should quit and tour with us. It’s a lot more fun than sitting at a desk.”

I laughed. “I have no doubt about that. The thing is, maybe you forget what it’s like to be a regular person, but we have bills and student loans. Mountains of student loans. Quitting my job, even if it’s not as fun as touring, isn’t really an option.”

Callum stiffened beside me, and I instantly felt bad. We hadn’t talked about what it would be like when he went on tour, but of course I’d thought about it. In my dreams, maybe I’d pictured Ez and me on the bus with him, riding down long stretches of highway. But that was just a dream.

“Responsibilities are boring,” Adam quipped. “Your first mistake was going to college.”

“Higher education, boo, hiss!” Roddy added.

That made me laugh again, even distracted by the man beside me growing stiffer by the minute.

“We’re leavin’,” Callum barked.

My head snapped to the side to look at him. “What?”

“Now, Wren.” There was something in his command, a tone I hadn’t heard before, that put me on edge. I nodded, never taking my eyes off his.

“Okay. We can leave.”

He jerked his chin at his friends, his bandmates. I got the chance to wave goodbye and glimpse their shocked faces before he pulled me along with him. Not too fast, though. Even in whatever strange state he was in, he remained mindful of my short legs and high heels. When we got to the coat rack by the front door, he carefully slipped mine on me, then buttoned it up to my chin like he always did.

In the elevator, I squeezed his hand. “What just happened?”

“We’ll talk at home.” His eyes were on mine, and the furrow between his brows might have been six feet deep.

“I don’t like you dragging me out of a party without an explanation.”

Nostrils flaring, he cupped my jaw. “We will talk at home, Wren.”

“Fine.” I didn’t like it, but I wasn’t going to fight him, not when he had clearly dug his heels in and nothing I could say would get him to lift his feet. “We’ll talk at home.”

I couldn’t wait.