Stranded with the Rockstar (Rockstar #1)

13. Harry

That's it. He has to start wanking. It's been over three months since he's gotten off, and that has to be the reason. He hasn't gone that long since he was twelve.

It couldn't possibly be the dream he'd been having. The one where he had Sunny pinned against a tree, her legs wrapped around him so tightly that it was obvious how much she wanted him. Neither of them were wearing clothes—where they had gone, Harry didn't know and didn't care. Her tits, which were usually suffocated against her bra, were out and pressed against his chest. He was deep inside of her, and she was drawing blood on his back with her scratches as she screamed his name over and over.

Fuck! He's getting hard again. He never remembers his dreams, so why is this one so damn memorable?

He hears laughter, and his immediate thought is that she's still laughing at him. But then he catches her tone, and knows this isn't a ha-ha laugh, it's her 'because I can't cry, the emotions have to come out some way' laugh. Why is she upset?

Disgusted? Obviously. Pissed? Without a doubt. Turned off? Completely.

But her being sad is just confusing him.

He tries to ignore it. Maybe he can go back to sleep, and when he wakes up in a few hours, this will all be forgotten. But her laughter is actually louder. Who is he kidding? This embarrassment will stay with him for a long, long time.

And, for some reason that he can't quite pinpoint, he wants to know what's on her mind. He crawls out of the tent and sees her immediately, sitting with her knees bent in front of her, staring at the ocean. She's wearing what she always wears to bed, his pants and her flannel shirt. Her shoulders are shaking from laughter even though it's quieted down substantially.

And even though he knows she's not really laughing, he asks, "What's so funny?"

The moon looks enormous tonight, reflecting off the calm water and giving everything a bluish tint. The glow is illuminating her dark hair, making it shine, which only appears to get brighter as he walks toward her and sits down on the silver sand.

"What's going on?"

She shrugs. "Just thinking."

He can take a hint. He should leave her alone. "About what?"

"We may never get off this island, Harry." She sighs. "And even if we do, my life will never be the same. There are so many things I've never done. Now it's too late."

He wraps his arm around her shoulders. He wants to take away whatever may be troubling her, but isn't quite sure how to do that. Normally he would just throw money at the problem until it went away. That's obviously not an option this time, but seeing her hurting is making him hurt.

"When did you start feeling sorry for yourself? That's not the Sunny I know."

She stays silent but places her hand on top of his. "You don't really know me. Not really."

He takes that in for a moment, swallowing the pain it causes him. At least they aren't discussing the recent mortifying incident.

"So, Sunny, what are these things that you've never done? Because I probably have, and I doubt they are as great as you imagine. Most things aren't."

He feels a warmth in his stomach when she turns to look at him. "I've never been to New York City."

He scoffs. "Definitely not that great. I have a flat there that I only stay in when I absolutely have to. Too many people. Too crowded."

"I've always wanted to go there. Just to see it. Walk down Times Square, or go to the top of the Empire State Building."

"Well how about this? When we get out of here. You can stay with me and do all those things."