Star Struck [*Complete*]

Chapter Five

The next morning, I woke to a strange sensation. I'd never been spooned before, and there weren't enough words to describe how amazing it was to wake up cocooned in warmth like that. However, my head throbbed from my hangover, and I almost didn't want to get out of bed. Looking down at the tattooed arm that clutched me back against the hard chest made me smile. I'd spent countless hours wondering what it'd be like to wake up beside Noah, and there I was, trapped against his punishing heat and loving it. He groaned in sleep and pulled me closer. Not for a second did I entertain leaving the bed.

"Sleep okay?" He groggily whispered, nuzzling my shoulder.

"Mhm," I rolled over to face him. "Minus the hangover the size of South Dakota," I smirked. "I think you make me a nervous drunk." I giggled. I meant it as a joke, but his brows knit.

"Maybe we should work on that? Hmm?"

"Is this where you tell me I can't drink anymore?"

"No, this is where I say nothing would please me more than to see you happy and healthy." He stroked a finger along my jaw. "And you can't accomplish that if you die of liver failure before your finals." He flicked the center of my forehead.

"Ow." I rubbed the spot. "Yes, Master." I fell silent as I realized what I said and he stroked his hand down my side to rest at my hip.

He flicked the center of his top lip with his tongue. "I'm going to shower and change. While I'm gone, you should think about the contract. Seriously think about it. Don't just sign it because of last night."

"Did you..." I stopped myself before I could ask the stupidest question ever and cover my face. "Forget I said anything. I'm hungover, and my brain is clearly not functioning."

Chuckling, he lifted my hand and peered down at my face with the best grin ever spreading his lips. "Yes, I had fun last night. And I usually hate dates, and when I say I hate dates I mean it's not that I go on bad ones or hate them in the abstract. I usually find them fucking pointless."

"Why?" I sat up and tilted my head to the side.

"Since I don't do relationships they're kind of moot." He started tracing circles with his fingers over my hip, and that hazel gaze of his grew far away. "Just massive wastes of time. Why get to know someone you're just going to leave in two days to a week?"

"Except for Fiona?"

He swallowed and rolled his eyes. Apparently, my question broke his introspective spell. "Yeah, except for her, I guess. It lasted a tour which is rare."

"Don't you get lonely?" Our eyes locked and I swallowed. His emotions were unreadable, beyond it being something dark. His lips parted slightly for a split second, but he quickly closed his mouth.

"I never get lonely," he answered way to fast leaving me to doubt him.

"Here I thought we weren't going to lie to each other?"

He sighed and pulled me closer, so I was bathed in his heat. "Fine. Sometimes, I get a little lonely, but it passes quickly enough. It's one of those fame things though. I never really felt it before we got household name kind of big. But I get that whole alone in a crowd full of people thing on occasion." I let him talk and let him hold me as he continued to pour himself out to me. "The fucked-up thing is I can't be sure the people around me just don't say they like me because I'm the front man or because I'm famous. Funny thing is, with you I kind of feel like if we ran into each other at one of your friend's concerts that you'd still be in this bed with me, and still have spent last night with me. How fucked up is that?"