Cover Me: A Rock Star Romance by Carrie Elliott Page A

worn down path to the beach cut through the overgrown grass and weeds of a vacant lot at the end of our street that had hosted a faded for sale sign for as long as I could remember. I kept my eyes peeled for paparazzi or press as we walked. I thought about driving, but it wouldn’t be the same and it was vital that I made this day the same as our beach Saturdays used to be.
    Bess walked in front of me down the path. I watched her hips sway and the thin, white cover-up catch the curves of her ass. My hands clenched remembering how it felt to squeeze her bare ass cheeks and pull her up against me on my lap.
    “I was watching this show last night,” she said, breaking the silence we’d held since leaving her porch. “Did you know the electric chair was invented by a dentist?”
    “A dentist? No. I didn’t know that.” What was it about walking down the path with me that made her think of fun facts about death when I was deep in thought about having my fingers inside her again?
    “Like going to the dentist wasn’t bad enough,” she said. “I wonder what he was trying to invent. He couldn’t have sent out to make a chair that killed people. At least I hope not. My guess is he was attempting to knock people out for surgery.”
    “Reminds me of when you got your wisdom teeth out.” I chuckled, thinking back on it. “Your whole face puffed up like a balloon.”
    She looked back over her shoulder at me and tried to give me a dirty look, but ended up laughing. “God, that was awful. And you barely swelled at all when you had yours out. So unfair.”
    That was the last summer she talked to me. Neither of us mentioned it, but the knowledge was there, standing between us.
    A rickety, wooden set of stairs led down to the beach. It was packed with people. Sun umbrellas stood in the sand and kids splashed in the waves. Groups of teens milled around checking each other out and the water was dotted with surfers.
    “Aren’t you afraid you’ll be spotted?” Bess shielded her eyes with her hand, looking up at me.
    “It crossed my mind.” But, this trip down memory lane with her was more important than caring if people got photos of me laying in the sand.
    “Your parents’ house will be swarmed if it gets out you’re here.” She glanced around the beach then back up at me. “You can’t pretend things haven’t changed.”
    My hands hit my hips and I inhaled deeply, keeping my cool. “Too much has changed. That’s the problem. I just want one thing to be how it used to be. Why is that too much to ask?”
    “Of me?” She asked, her brows tilting adorably over her glasses.
    I ran a hand down her arm, unable to keep myself from touching her any longer. “Of anyone. Any thing .”
    She nibbled her nail and turned back to the beach, looking right then left. “How much money do you have on you?”
    I patted my pocket. “Couple hundred probably. Why?”
    “Trust me?” She asked, holding out her hand.
    That she’d have to ask struck me in the gut. I reached out and cupped the back of her head in my hands and I stared into her eyes, willing her to know how important she was to me. How she’d always been the person I trusted most, even after all the time that had passed between us. “Always,” I said, then leaned in closer to make sure it was clear. “Always.”
    We were so close, her warm breath tickled my lips. I didn’t want to let go. I wanted a replay of yesterday when she couldn’t stop herself from kissing me. “What do you want?” she asked, as if reading my mind. I gazed back and forth between her beautiful, dark blue eyes. “It’s not an easy question to answer,” she said, “is it?”
    A molten sensation ran through my chest. “It’s the easiest question I’ve ever been asked.” Her eyebrows rose in question, wanting an answer. Instead of telling her, I showed her by pressing my lips against hers, kissing her slowly, softly. I didn’t want to scare her away. She had to believe I would never