Stone Cold Notes: A Rock Star Romance (The Seasons Change)
Stone Cold Notes: Chapter 14

SHE HAD NO IDEA I WAS BEHIND HER.

I’d gotten good at blending, though it wasn’t always the easiest with my height and rising fame. Wren didn’t know it, but she was used to my presence. When I wasn’t touring, I always found a way to watch her at least once a day.

I wasn’t a total psychopath, though. My obsession didn’t involve peeking in windows or eating her trash. I didn’t jack off into her stolen underwear or dream of making her into a skin suit. Watching Wren live her life soothed me. Knowing she was safe and cared for allowed me to keep my distance.

Now that I could talk to her, inhale her summer scent, touch her sweet skin, I realized I’d been starving for years. The tastes I’d gotten of Wren had only begun to sate me.

Leaning forward, my nose brushed the back of her hair. She stiffened and shuffled a step closer to the person in front of her. Wren was such a creature of habit, she’d only been at her new job three weeks and had already developed a routine. Coffee shop at twelve thirty, followed by eating her brown-bagged lunch in the park, and back at her desk by one thirty. I hadn’t even had to follow her to end up in line behind her today.

“Little Bird,” I whispered. “Don’t try to get away from me.”

Her shoulders jumped, then she whirled around, already smiling. “You scared the shit out of me, sir.” Her lips spread into a wide grin, and a giggle bubbled out. “What are you doing here?”

I tucked her hair for her. “I have to head into Good Music to put some finishing touches on a couple songs. I knew you’d be here, so I came here first.”

She played with the zipper on my leather jacket. “Am I that predictable?”

“Mmhmm. I like that about you.”

Her eyes drifted up to mine. “I’m happy to see you. I was beginning to forget what you look like.”

“Three days is all it takes?” Hooking my finger in the space between her buttons, I tugged her into me and dipped my head so I could speak to only her. “A thousand years, and I won’t forget your face, Wren.”

She shivered and clutched my jacket. “You can’t just say those types of things to me in a coffee shop. All those times I told you in my emails that you’d made me cry, I wasn’t kidding.” She sniffled and rubbed her face on my leather sleeve. “The things you say, Callum Rose…I swear, you have a direct line to my tear ducts.”

I had to laugh, even though she was making my chest ache. “I don’t want you to cry. Never.”

She nodded, still hiding her face. “Somehow, I know that.”

When it was our turn to order, Wren was still pressed against me, so I did it for her, adding a chocolate chip cookie and a cup of coffee for myself. I should’ve been in the studio. I had only intended on a quick stop to get a fix of Wren, but now that I had her, I didn’t give a single shit about my schedule.

Outside, Wren held her coffee in both hands and blew through the small hole in the lid to cool the steaming liquid.

“Do you have to go?” she asked.

“I have some time. Do you mind if I sit with you during your break?”

She bit her lip, but she couldn’t stop her grin. “I don’t know. My bench is very exclusive.”

“I saw a pigeon shittin’ next to it when I walked by earlier.”

She snorted a laugh. “That adds to the ambiance. Everyone knows pigeons class up any joint.”

We sat on her shitty bench. I drank my coffee. She ate her turkey sandwich. Her cheeks were pink every time I looked at her, and there was a quiver in her voice that eased the more time we sat there. Wren told me about her job and the coworker she had an odd relationship with. She named all the musicians who’d come into the building she deemed more famous than me, then checked to make sure she hadn’t hurt my feelings.

I thought I knew a lot about Wren Anderson. And maybe I did. But I hadn’t really grasped how kind she was. It wasn’t a trait I had come across very often in my years. I almost wished she was a little meaner, if only to protect herself.

I knew dark and manipulative people who would prey upon someone like Wren. I grew up with them, learned from them, and had to fight my way out of it.

But I wouldn’t change her. I’d be here to protect her from that darkness. It would never touch her.

“There’s no one like you,” I said.

She stopped chewing and covered her mouth with her hand. “Is that a good thing?”

“It’s a fact. No one’s like you.”

She swallowed and wiped her mouth. “I guess that’s probably true. I know there’s definitely no one like you, Callum. I have never had someone say the sweetest things to me in person, then text me rude, dirty, hot messages later that night.”

“Good. If someone does, tell me and I’ll break his phone.”

She giggled. “You mean you won’t chop off his fingers and stuff them down his throat?”

I raised an eyebrow. “That goes without saying.”

Wren set her lunch aside and slid closer, until her thigh pressed against mine. Her gloved hands came up to my cheeks, and she guided my face down to hers.

“You are officially invited to have lunch with me on my bench whenever you want.”

I closed the narrow gap between us and kissed her hard. Her fingers anchored in my hair, and I looped an arm around her middle, nearly drawing her onto my lap. She mewled as my tongue swept past her lips to taste her everywhere. If all I had with her were stolen hours in the middle of a park in broad daylight, I’d treat my time like we were in a shadowy back alley and kiss her how we both needed. I didn’t care who saw. All that mattered was Wren knowing she was still mine. She’d always be mine. And I was unequivocally hers.

The walk back to Good Music was all too short. Wren let me hold her hand, even though I knew she was worried about her coworker seeing us together. The irony was, it was Adam who spotted us. He was approaching the building from the opposite direction, and there was no hiding we were together.

Wren tried to take her hand back anyway. I wouldn’t allow it. “No. He knows the deal with us.”

“It’s awkward for me,” she murmured.

“Why? Because he thought he stood a chance with you?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” Her fingers flexed between mine. “I need to get back to my desk. I can’t do this at work. I’ll text you tonight.”

I relented, even though it went against my every instinct. “I’ll be waiting.”

She hurried inside, tossing a wave at Adam over her shoulder just as he arrived at the doors. He cocked his head, glancing from her to me. I crossed my arms, bracing for whatever he had to say.

“What, are you together?” he sputtered.

“We are. Why are you surprised?”

“Uh,” he threw his arms out, “because I’ve never seen you with a girl in all the time I’ve known you. You’re all look, no touch. Now you’re, what, in a relationship? I’m sorry if I am having some whiplash here.”

Before I could answer, Rodrigo appeared between us, glancing back and forth. “What’s up, gentlemen? Why are we having an argument on the sidewalk?”

“No one’s arguing,” I replied.

Adam jabbed a finger at me. “Callum is dating the receptionist.”

Rodrigo scratched his head. “You’re dating?”

“I wouldn’t call it dating.” Wren and I were together. Dating implied getting to know one another in order to decide if being a couple would work. As far as I was concerned, we were well beyond that.

“They were walking down the sidewalk holding hands.” Adam said it with the same incredulousness he would have if he’d caught us juggling fire or tripping nuns.

Rodrigo’s wide-eyed gaze swung to me. “You were holding hands? Holy shit, I feel like I’ve missed an entire episode.”

“Yeah.” Adam rubbed his forehead. “No fucking kidding. I mean, I’m happy for you, man, but excuse the shock.”

“Oh yeah.” Rodrigo knocked my shoulder with the back of his hand. “Don’t mistake my surprise for not being supportive. I obviously don’t really know Wren, but from our brief meeting, she seems like a sweet girl.”

“She is.” I exhaled a heavy breath to loosen the knot in my chest. I really didn’t want my relationship with Wren questioned. But Adam and Roddy weren’t strangers, and as much as I didn’t like being under a microscope, I knew their intentions were pure. “Thanks, man.”

The three of us entered the building together, and I could tell they were both inspecting my little bird, who was back at her desk, blushing scarlet and sitting ramrod straight.

“Good afternoon. Welcome to Good Music,” she greeted.

Roddy waved. “Hi, Wren.”

Of course Adam stopped and propped his elbow on her counter. “Hey, cutie. How’s reception life?”

She lifted a shoulder. “Rarely a dull moment.” Her eyes were so wide, her forehead was crinkled. “How are you?”

I hooked my arm around his neck. “He’s fine. He has places to be, though. No time to talk. Be good.” I dragged Adam toward the elevator to the sound of Wren’s shaky little laugh at my back. If I stayed in that lobby another second, I would have been dragging her away instead. As much as that appealed to me, neither of us could stop our lives.

Rodrigo slugged Adam hard in the arm as soon as we were on the elevator. “Don’t call Callum’s girl cutie, man. That’s not cool.”

Adam held his hands up. “It slipped out. No harm meant. I’ve accepted Wren is into the strong, silent type—and that’ll never be me.”

Roddy chuckled. “You’re the loud, jackass type.”

“Motherfucker!” Adam lunged at him, grabbing him in a headlock. They wrestled for all of ten seconds, then the doors slid open on our floor and it was over.

I followed them to the studio, pleased as hell with what had just gone down. My obsession with Wren had been a secret I’d kept close to my vest all these years. No more hiding, though. Those days were done. Wren was mine, and everyone we met would know.

Wren: Hey…are you still working?

Me: Just got home. Are you in bed, Little Bird?

Wren: Yeah. You know me. I’m not a night owl.

Me: Early bird.

Wren: I rise with the sun.

Me: Why’d you stop going by Birdie?

Wren: Jenny still calls me that, but she’s the only one. I just wanted to be someone new once I was out of my parents’ house. Plus, Wren looks a lot better on resumes. Is it weird for you to call me that?

Me: I never thought of you as Birdie. You were always my little bird. But I like Wren. It’s not weird for me at all.

Wren: I’m still getting used to having this kind of access to you…you know, not waiting for your next email for weeks.

Me: Sometimes days or an hour.

Wren: You got better at writing me back the longer we corresponded.

Me: Only because I wanted more of your words in my fucking inbox.

Wren: Well, you’ll have to tell me if I’m bugging you now. I feel like I might want to talk to you all the time.

Me: I’ll tell you right now, you will never bother me. I want all your thoughts and words as much as I want your lips and pussy. Everything. Don’t hold back.

Wren: See? Dirty and sweet.

Wren: Seriously, though, don’t give me free rein. You’re the only man I’ve ever texted like this. I have no established boundaries.

Me: You’re in luck then. I told you before, I don’t even try to conform to arbitrary boundaries and standards some jackasses on the internet deemed as the appropriate amount of time in between texts. I expect you to text me when you want to. I’ll do the same.

Wren: You might have to remind me.

Me: I will. What are you doing?

Wren: Thinking I might sleep soon. You?

Me: Thinking about taking you to the club on Saturday night and watching your cheeks get bright red, hearing your little pants, feeling you squirm in my lap.

Wren: And I bet you’re imagining what the girl will look like…

Me: No. I told you what I’m thinking about. You.

Wren: Okay. I believe you.

Me: Why can’t I see you before then? Friday?

Wren: You can see me on my bench. Friday night I’m being dragged out for drinks with Natalie, my co-irker. <- not a typo!

Me: Do you not want to go?

Wren: No, I think I do. She’s inviting a couple other girls from Good Music. It’ll be good for me to make friends at work. Natalie’s just…well, I don’t think I get her.

Me: Text me the address of where you’re going.

Wren: Why? So you can stalk me?

Me: Just want to know where you are.

Wren: All right. When Natalie tells me, I’ll text you.

Me: Go to bed, Wren. I’ll see you tomorrow in line.

Wren: You make me smile, Callum Rose. Good night. Xoxo

Me: Night, Little Bird. x