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

THERE HAD BEEN A CAR waiting to take me to work every single day and bring me home in the evening. Only, I was alone in the back seat. The driver informed me Mr. Rose’s schedule differed from mine, but he wanted to make sure I was comfortable and safe during my commute.

My heart actually hurt when he told me that.

It was Saturday now, and I couldn’t avoid telling the truth any longer. I felt the burden of it on my shoulders. Each day that passed, it became heavier and heavier. Jenny had been right. None of this was fair to Callum.

Ezra sat on my bed with a massive stack of books while I rushed around like a mad woman. I couldn’t decide what to wear. Somber was most likely the right choice. I was feeling like I was about to walk in front of a firing squad. If I owned a hairshirt, that probably would have been suitable. But since I wasn’t John the freaking Baptist, I had no idea where one would acquire such a thing.

“Whatcha doin’, Mommy?” Ez asked.

“Going crazy, baby angel. What are you doing?”

He held up a board book about Picasso. “I’m reading. This art is crazy.”

I peered at the picture of Le Reve. “Do you know le reve means the dream?”

He giggled and jabbed at the portrait of the sleeping woman. “She’s havin’ a dream?”

I tickled his chin. “Or maybe she is the dream, like you’re Mommy’s dream come true. The light of my life.” I poked his side. “The syrup on my pancakes. The butter on my bread.”

Squealing, he rolled to his stomach, locking his arms over his sides. “The peanut butter and jelly!” he shrieked.

I kissed his shoulder and grinned at my happy boy. “Yeah, that’s right. You’re the peanut butter to my jelly.” Straightening, I put my hands on my hips. “Now, jelly, can you help Mommy decide on what to wear tonight?”

He sat up and scanned the pile of clothes I had thrown on the opposite side of the bed. “Are you leavin’?”

“Not until you go to sleep, and I’ll be here when you wake up.”

His face scrunched for a second, and my heart plummeted. Ezra was pretty go with the flow. Then again, I rarely went out, and pretty much never at night. He shrugged and reached for a book, and I blew out a heavy sigh of relief.

Jeans. I’d wear jeans and a cute top with a cardigan. On the very off chance Callum forgave me, I wanted to look presentable in case we actually got to the dinner portion of the evening.

This would be okay. No matter what happened tonight, I’d be coming back to a safe home, an aunt who loved and cared for me, and a son I lived and breathed for. That was my mantra for the rest of the evening, until Ezra was tucked snug in his bed and Jenny stood by the front door with me.

I blinked back tears as I smiled at her. “I don’t know how to do this.”

She squeezed my shoulders. “Just blurt out the truth. Get it over with the moment you see him. Answer any questions he has and accept the feelings he might have toward you. It’ll all be okay, Birdie.”

“Promise?” I asked meekly.

She clucked her tongue. “I can’t promise you something I have no control over. But you need to do the right thing even if it hurts.” Her lips pressed against my temple. “I won’t wait up, just in case it goes really, really well.”

With a laugh, I walked out to the SUV waiting to bring me to Callum’s apartment. The trip was under five minutes. Not even long enough to let me catch my breath. I couldn’t get over how incredibly close he lived to me. What were the chances? If I had started my job at Good Music a month or two later, I might have never run into him.

Maybe this was fate stepping in, giving us closure. Except this didn’t really feel like closure. The fissure in my heart from the day I’d said goodbye to Callum had been cracked open wide the moment he strolled past me in the lobby without giving me a second glance. And it had only grown wider.

Shadows worshiped Callum. He stood outside his building, waiting for me in the bitter cold. Light illuminated him from the back while darkness claimed his front, dancing over the sharp corners of his jaw and sliding down his straight nose. He stepped forward, and even more darkness moved in on him, until all I could make out was the glow of his blond hair and the broad hand reaching to help me out of the SUV.

“Hi.” My heart thrashed like a wild beast in my chest. My stomach churned.

“Hi, Wren.” Rin. Oh, how I’d miss hearing that.

I swallowed, holding myself together. “You’re not wearing a coat.” He had that leather jacket on that made him look like he’d stepped out of a James Dean film. It was sexy and made my knees weak, but it wouldn’t stand up to a New York winter.

He pulled me toward his building, my hand tucked firmly in his. “You’re worried about me again?”

“Anyone would be. It’s freezing, Callum. What if you get frostbite and lose a finger? You’ll be kicked out of the band and become destitute.”

“No, I’d be okay. I’m really good at picking pockets.”

I jerked my head to look at him. He was smiling kind of softly at me. “You won’t be so good at it without a finger or two.”

He opened the door to the brightly lit lobby, allowing me to enter ahead of him. “You’ve got me,” he murmured as I passed.

I shivered even though I was bundled warmly in my coat and scarf. “I do?”

The doorman at the front desk nodded to Callum and gave me a halfway friendly smile.

“Good evening, Mr. Rose. Madam.” He tipped his hat. “Have a lovely night.”

I barely got a wave in as I was led past so quickly, I had to jog a little to keep up. Callum’s growl was low, but I didn’t miss it.

“Mmm.” His arm pressed against my shoulder as we waited for the elevator. “I’ll have to think of a new profession besides pickpocketing and playin’ bass once I lose my fingers.”

I craned my neck to look up at him. “I would suggest basketball, but you probably need all your fingers for that too. Honestly, you should just wear a coat and gloves.”

“You’re really cute when you’re concerned.” He brought my gloved hand up to his cheek and rubbed it in tight circles. “I’ll just borrow your heat.”

“No. I need it. You can’t have it.”

“Don’t be greedy, Wren. I’ll share anything of mine you want.”

I laughed. “Except your body heat because you have none. I can feel your cold cheeks through my leather gloves. That’s never a good sign.”

The elevator doors slid open. “Come on.” My hand was still in his, and he didn’t seem to want to let go. And I was okay with that. Since I knew all of this was on borrowed time, I let myself live a little fantasy, just for a while.

As the elevator rose, Callum’s gaze locked on me. He was studying me unabashedly. It didn’t exactly make me uncomfortable, but it wasn’t something I was used to. My skin tingled and felt a size too small. My free hand fidgeted with my buttons, then my collar, the one he held itching to move.

“Thank you for sending the car all week. It’s been really nice.”

“You shouldn’t be riding public transportation. It’s not safe for a woman on her own.”

I would have rolled my eyes if he hadn’t sounded so earnest. “I’ve been riding the subway since I was a teenager. The worst thing that ever happened to me was stepping in a puddle of vomit. Everything else is just background noise.”

His hand tightened, and the elevator door opened. His arm shot out to keep the door open, but he didn’t budge. “Do men speak to you? Do they say things?”

“Of course. I saw a guy catcall a grandma last month. I mean, she was well kept for eighty, but she was still eighty. She had a headful of white hair and a face full of wrinkles. Not to mention her orthopedic shoes.” Oh jeez, I was rambling.

His brow furrowed. “What does that mean?”

“It means it’s not a big deal. It’s part of being a woman in a city. It happens. I ignore it.” I stepped out of the elevator and tugged him with me. “Stop worrying about me.”

He took my face in his cold hands. “If I told you to stop worryin’ about me, would you?”

“No.” I had years of experience thinking, dreaming, and worrying about Callum Rose. It would take more than a simple order to unlearn such behavior.

“Then don’t ask me to stop worryin’ about you, Wren. I’m going to. And I’m going to keep sendin’ a car to take you to work, so don’t fight me.”

I didn’t fight him then and there because…well, after tonight, I really doubted he’d care about my transportation. He’d probably rue the day he ever answered my first email, if he didn’t already.

“Okay,” I whispered. “I won’t ask.”

With a sharp nod, he led me to the end of a sleek hallway dotted with only a couple doors. I’d barely taken in the surroundings before he swept me into his apartment and unbuttoned my coat. He was meticulous, slotting each button through its corresponding hole carefully, all the way to where they ended mid-thigh, then he slid it off my shoulders and hung it in a small closet by the front door. His own jacket was haphazardly hooked on the doorknob.

Callum placed his hand on the center of my back, ushering me deeper into the apartment. My mouth went dry as I tried to formulate what I was going to say. As if I hadn’t thought about this nonstop all week.

His apartment was stark. Barely furnished, nothing on the walls, almost no color. There was a low, gray couch with a glass coffee table in front of it. A stand holding a row of guitars was propped beside a black console table with a small TV on top. The windows were almost floor to ceiling, but they were covered in those temporary paper blinds builders put in new houses. The floor was covered with a plush, creamy carpet.

“How long have you lived here?” I asked.

“Three years,” he replied.

My gaze swept over his as I searched for anything personal. I guessed the instruments counted, but there was nothing else. We were standing in a sea of white, gray, and a speck of black. “Wow. It looks like you just moved in.”

His mouth twitched. “I don’t spend a lot of time here. Things aren’t important to me and neither are homes. It’s a place to sleep.”

“Says the rich musician,” I murmured. When his eyebrows raised, crinkling his forehead, my hands shot to my mouth to cover it. I was supposed to be here to confess my sins, not insult my victim.

He bowed his head and released a low chuckle. “You aren’t wrong.” His phone chimed from inside his pocket. He took it out and tapped a hurried message. “Our dinner’s here. I hope you like Thai.”

“I—I do.” I was supposed to be coming clean, not actually eating dinner. What was I doing? My palms were itchy and sweaty. My mouth was so dry, my tongue kept sticking to the roof.

“Good. I don’t like anyone comin’ up here, so I’m goin’ to the lobby to get it.” He touched my hair. He was always touching my hair. “Stay here. Snoop around if you want. When you’re done, please feel free to find what you’d like to drink in the kitchen.”

My giggle came out choked. If I sounded nervous or suspicious, he didn’t react, leaving me in his apartment. For someone who grew up with criminals, he was far too trusting. I mean, I could have stolen his underwear and sold it to his crazed fans for a mint…if I were that type. Which I wasn’t.

My thirst overpowered my need to snoop, so I headed to the kitchen. It was more of the same in this room: cream, gray, black, with a dash of stainless steel in the mix. The cups were easy to find since the cabinets had glass fronts. I filled it up at the sink and drained it quickly.

The sole splash of color in the whole apartment caught my eye. A tiny potted plant sat in the corner of the icy white marble countertop. I recognized the painted pot immediately and cradled it in my hand.

“You didn’t throw it away,” I whispered.

Callum had taken Adam’s plant home with him. My heart tripped over itself, and I sighed. Of course he had done something sweet and adorable. That only knotted my stomach up tighter.

A small piece of folded paper fluttered to the ground after it became unstuck from the pot. Stooping down, I picked it up and placed it on the counter. Then I read my name written in messy scrawl on the outside.

Callum had left me a note?

I exchanged the plant for the paper and unfolded it before I could overthink what might be inside.

All the breath left my lungs, his words punching through my chest.

Little Bird,

Don’t shrink. I know.

Callum