Rock My Love: A Steamy Standalone Instalove

“What do you think this is?” Penny asks. “What does he want from you?”

My skin tingles at the thought, my nipples pressing against my bra, feeling so sensitive I could scream. It’s been the same ever since the kiss, everything heightened, feeling more intense, electric, and compelling.

Any time Aaron pops into my head, I find my body buzzing, thrumming with how badly I want to explore his body with my hands.

And then my mind floods with what comes after, with him standing beneath an altar as I walk towards him, as I cradle our first child and he leans over, placing a kiss on my head and then our son’s or daughters. I feel his hand on my shoulder, as he gently whispers in my ear, telling me he’s always going to be there for me.

“Earth to Billie?”

“Sorry.” I grin tightly. “I’m not sure what he wants exactly.”

“Because… I almost don’t want to say this.”

I place my hand on hers, giving it a short squeeze. “It’s okay, Penny. I know you’ve only got my best interest at heart.”

She squeezes mine in return. “Always, which is why I feel like I have to say this. You probably already know. But I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t mention it.”

“Know what?”

She lays her fists against the counter, glancing at the door as though she’s almost wishing for a customer… the exact opposite of our regular wishes.

“You’re a very romantic person, Billie. You write love songs. You’ve watched every romantic movie I can think of. You’ve told me countless times that you want to find the man of your dreams one day, settle down, start a family.”

“Thanks for the history lesson,” I joke, though my tone has gotten lower.

It’s like she’s probing at my most sensitive parts.

“My point is,” she goes on, “I can see how excited you are about this whole thing. I can see how badly you want it to be real. But you have to remember. He’s a rockstar. He’s an older man. He might not want the same things as you.”

I swallow. I know he’s not fantasizing about a life together, a future, a family, but hearing it spoken aloud feels like having my heart ripped out.

“You’re saying he might just want a quick hookup,” I say.

Penny nods. “I really hate saying this. I don’t want to upset you. But it’s the most likely scenario, hon.”

“He wanted me to wait for him so we could hook up, and then leave me, forget about me.”

Penny shrugs. “I’m not saying that’s definitely the case, but it’s not impossible. If you do happen to meet again, I don’t want you being taken advantage of. I know casual hookups aren’t really your thing.”

“How do you know?” I force myself to smile, making my voice lighthearted. “As far as you’re aware, I’m completely addicted to dating. I’m just hiding it well.”

She narrows her eyes at me, a soft frown on her lips.

It’s like she’s seeing through me, and for a crazy second, I wonder if she knows about my vivid and intense fantasies. That’s impossible, but maybe she senses something. The emotion must be plain on my face.

“Is that true?” she asks.

“No, no it’s not.” I laugh, but it comes out sounding hollow. “You’re right. There’s no way he’s going to be as obsessed with me as I am with him. Fine. But that doesn’t mean we can’t at least pursue… something, a connection. Or maybe just a hookup.”

“Do you want that? To hook up and then go your separate ways?”

“No,” I say fiercely, the word coming out as a reflex.

My cheeks warm and I lower my gaze, glancing at the counter, at the neatly-folded napkins. “You’re right. I don’t just want that. I’ve… I don’t think I could…”

I bite down, rocking back on my heels, as though trying to dispel this feeling gripping me.

I want to tell her I’m not sure I’d even be able to have a casual hookup with him. I might melt into a mess if we ever got intimate, and if Penny is right, Aaron would expect me to perform like some sex-addicted groupie. There’s no freaking way I’d be able to do that.

“It’s something to think about,” Penny says. “And like I said, I only want the best for you.”

“I know. Thanks for looking out for me.”

But despite her warnings, the fantasies don’t stop for the rest of the day or the evening. If anything, they get fiercer.

I sit at my desk, scrawling love song after love song in my notebook, letting out a few notes myself even if I’m no singer.

My email pings, telling me there’s a notification.

I check it urgently, the same way I have with every email this week.

It’s a marketing email.

I sigh, closing my eyes for a moment, wondering how the heck I’m going to ever feel at peace with Aaron’s shadow following me everywhere I go.