He stalked up the hall and shut his bedroom door in my face.
“Cary.” I tried the door but it was locked, of course. “It was a freak accident.” I knocked on the door. “It was sleeping pills, for fuck’s sake!” I banged on the door. “It wasn’t your fault!”
Total silence.
I knocked on the door again. “Cary! Open up.”
He didn’t open up.
So, fuck it.
Looked like I was doing this through a door.
Because one way or another, it had to be done.
This shit had to be said.
“What do you want her to do, lock herself behind a door like you do?”
No answer. I couldn’t hear anything from inside his bedroom, but I knew he could hear me. This door wasn’t soundproofed.
“What is it? You think I’m gonna hurt her or something? I’m not gonna hurt her.”
Nothing.
I sighed.
“I just… I want to take care of her.”
Silence.
I drew a deep breath and just said it.
“I love her.”
Half of me expected the door to fly open, an enraged Cary ready to punch my lights out.
The other half of me knew what to expect. Nothing. Which was exactly what I got.
“Someone was gonna fall in love with her,” I said. “Why can’t it be me?”
Cary gave me no answer.
I stepped back from the door and took a breath.
And why the fuck couldn’t it be me?
Did he really think I wasn’t good enough for her? That I wouldn’t treat her right?
Really?
As I stood there, alone, outside his door, like I had so many fucking times in the past four years, I started to get mad. Like really fucking angry.
For the first time, I actually let myself feel all the anger I had toward him, for locking himself away from everyone—including Courteney. Including me.
What the fuck was I doing here anyway?
Begging for his acceptance? His forgiveness? His permission?
Why the hell did I need to ask his permission to be happy, just because he chose to be unhappy?
“You know what? Fuck you, Cary.”
I stood there for another minute or so, just in case he actually decided to open the door and face me.
He didn’t.
So I went out back to the poolhouse and grabbed some fresh clothes for Courteney. I packed them into her suitcase, and I went home.
* * *
When I walked in my door, Courteney was waiting for me. She was sitting on my couch, texting or something on her phone, but she set it aside as soon as I walked in and got to her feet.
I put her suitcase down and took off my shoes, still trying to figure out what the fuck I was gonna tell her.
Last thing I wanted to do was hurt her any more than I already had, by giving her the ugly play-by-play of what just happened between me and Cary.
So I went over to her and took her in my arms.
She slid her arms around my waist. “How did it go?” she asked gently. And of course, she knew her brother. She knew me.
Which meant she already knew how it went.
“Not great.”
“Shit…”
I took her head in my hands, gently, and smoothed her hair back off her cheeks with my thumbs. I kissed her softly.
“Should I call him?” she whispered. She peered up at me, and the concern in her eyes was obvious.
But I couldn’t stand the thought of her calling him… and calling him… and getting no answer.
Or having him pick up—and giving her shit or something.
“Maybe in a few days, okay? Give him a little time to cool off.”
“What happened?”
I sighed. “In a nutshell… he’s pissed at me.”
Her eyebrows pinched together, the concern growing. “You talked to him?”
“Sort of. Mostly I yelled at him through a door, so that was fun.”
“Xander…” She squeezed me tight. “You did the right thing, okay? You went to him. You tried. If he’s gonna be mad at you or shut you out, that’s his choice. He’ll get past it. You’re his best friend. You’ve always been there for him, and he knows that.”
“Yeah. I guess.”
“I’m proud of you, for what it’s worth.”
She gazed up at me with those beautiful honey eyes of hers. I saw the affection, the admiration in them. I felt it. But I didn’t really feel worthy of her pride right now.
“I told him I love you.”
A smile spread across her face, slowly. Her eyes sparkled with joy. “Um… You said that you love me… for the first time ever… to my brother? Through a door?”
Okay. She had to bust my balls on this. I got that.
I mean, I would if I were her.
She burst out laughing.
I sighed again. “Like you said. I’m terrible at this.”
“I think you really are.”
“But I do love you, Court.”
Her smile grew, and she gazed at me with such happiness… I hadn’t seen her look that happy in a long, long time.
“I love you, too,” she gushed. Then she pushed up on her tiptoes and kissed me. I kissed her back, slow, just enjoying the feel of her in my arms. For once, we weren’t fighting. We weren’t tearing off each other’s clothes, either.
That was fun, too.
But this was perfect.
Then she sighed and said, kinda sadly, “So… what are we gonna do?”
“I have no fucking idea,” I admitted.
She laughed again. “Damn. I was hoping you’d have a clue. I have none.”
“Whatever we do, though,” I told her, “we’re doing it together. I mean, if that’s what you want.”
“Yes. I want that.”
I smiled at her, slowly.
“I’m never gonna be the nice guy who does the right thing…”
“I don’t think I’d want you if you were that guy. But you’re wrong. Sometimes you do the right thing. When it counts.”
My smile faded. “I hate that this hurts Cary. That he fucking locked himself away over it.”
“I don’t want to hurt him, either. But… he locked himself away long ago, Xander. And that wasn’t your fault.”
I knew that. But I still felt guilty.
“You were the one, of all his friends and family…” she said. “The one who kept coming back. Who tried the longest. Who tried the hardest. Who still comes back and looks out for him.”
“Yeah. Me and you.” I studied her face for a moment as she smiled at me, just fucking loving that smile.
Then I pulled her over to the couch and we sat down.
“Court,” I told her, “I think you need to move out of that house.” I’d been thinking about this all the way back from Cary’s… “I don’t think what we’ve been doing is helping him, and I’m afraid all it’s gonna do is drag you down. You can move in with me, but that’s not what this is about. I’m not telling you to move out of his house so you’ll move in with me. Move back in with your parents if you want to, or move in with one of your friends. And if you want to move in with me, you can. Just get out of that house.”
She stared at me, absorbing all of this. I could see her thinking it through.
I wondered if she would actually consider moving in with me. Or if she’d rather live with one of her friends.
But all she said was, “What about Cary?”
Yeah. Fuck.
What about that?
“I really don’t know,” I admitted. “We could think about maybe trying to convince him to hire another assistant, a real assistant, and take it seriously this time. Someone to just be around, try to keep him from being so damn isolated. Or maybe we could broach therapy with him again, see if there’s someone he should be talking to who could help him better than we can. Maybe we can talk to more of his friends about stopping in to see him. Maybe he ne
eds to be ambushed more, pushed. Maybe he needs to be left alone. I don’t fucking know.” I squeezed her hand in mine. “Whatever we do or try to do, he could reject it, Courteney. We could fail. I don’t know what the answer is, but I know you can’t keep living in that house. It hurts you. I can see it hurting you, and I can’t fucking stand it. You can keep trying to help him… but ultimately it’s up to him if he just won’t change or won’t let you help.”
“Yeah. I know that,” she said. “But… I need to keep trying.”
And I could tell, just looking at her, that she meant it.
She’d never give up on him.
I knew, at the end of the day, no matter how he tried to shut me out or how much he pissed me off… I wouldn’t, either.
“Okay,” I promised her, “then I’ll help you do that.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Courteney
I walked into Xander’s place carrying a box of clothes.
Well, our place.
Xander set down the box he was carrying and closed the door behind me as I put my box down on top of his.
“This is the last of it, so…” I brushed off my hands, then pulled off my hoodie and dropped it on the floor.
Xander looked at it.
The whole apartment—other than my hoodie now on the floor and the boxes filled with my stuff, which were stacked against the hall wall leading to the bedroom—was spotless.
“You’re gonna hate living with me,” I announced.
“Huh?” He met my eyes.
“You’re way tidier than I am.”
“Oh.”
A grin spread across my face. “Scared yet?”
He just looked at me and slowly smiled.
Then he took me by the hand and led me into the bedroom. I hadn’t been here since yesterday morning. I’d been packing at my parents’ house and stayed there last night. This morning, a moving crew brought my stuff over from there, and I’d just picked up the last of my things from my brother’s.
But in my absence, Xander had been busy.
I’d spent plenty of time here this week, and now knew his bedroom, the adjoining bathroom and the walk-in closet all pretty intimately. But things had clearly changed.
There were now two identical dressers, side-by-side, where yesterday there was only one.
“For you,” Xander said, tapping one of the dressers with his knuckle as we walked past. He led me into the walk-in closet—where he’d completely cleared out one side. The closet was big, with built-in custom shelves and drawers for all his stuff. “Your own side of the closet…” He tapped a knuckle to one of the empty shelves; he’d already set one of my purses, which I’d left here yesterday, on the shelf below.
“Wow. How did you manage this?” I wasn’t sure how he’d fit all his stuff on one side. The closet was pretty damn full yesterday.
“I reorganized. And got rid of some things.”
I blinked at him. I’d seen Xander coming home to the poolhouse loaded down with shopping bags from clothing stores, on the regular. I’d never actually seen him leaving with any.
“You did that for me?” I looked him over, like I was just making sure he was feeling okay. I was pretty touched, actually. “I know how much you love your clothes…”
“I love you more.” It was so simple, and he was dead serious when he said it.
I hopped up on my toes and kissed his cheek for that.
“Don’t start,” he said, when the kiss lingered and I pressed my boobs against him, his voice low and husky with arousal. “I’m not finished yet.” He led me into the bathroom. “You get most of the drawers and stuff in here, too. For all your chick stuff.”
I grinned. “Thank you.”
I gave him another kiss on the cheek and a butt squeeze, then tore myself away as he groaned in protest. I dashed out to the hallway to grab one of my suitcases and rolled it into the walk-in closet. I was excited to get settled in.
Besides, as soon as I finished unpacking the important stuff, I could get dressed up and we could go out for dinner to celebrate.
And then out to the club.
DJ Summer had invited us to a show tonight, at a bar, and my boyfriend had agreed to take me. He’d even bought me a sexy new dress to wear. Blue, my favorite color.
I was thrilled about all of this.
But while Xander leaned on the doorframe and watched me unpack, listening to me babble on about the latest updates I’d made to Gabe’s book… there was a dark shadow that fell over all of it.
Maybe we both felt it.
Cary’s shadow.
“I know I need to let go of caretaking him,” I told him, when he gently asked me if I’d seen my brother today when I picked up my stuff from his house. The answer was no. “His life… his house… his job… I tried to butt into all of it. With pretty much zero results.”
And now I was diving right into this grown-up relationship thing with Xander. And it was weirdly bittersweet. Everything about moving in with Xander felt right—though a little scary—but I still worried about Cary.
Maybe I always would.
Now I’d just have to worry about him from a distance, once again, while at the same time trying to figure out my life. Figure out what I was going to do to make a living…
“Slow down, babe,” Xander murmured. He tugged me toward him, and I realized I’d been spewing all the worries in my head out my mouth.
“You don’t need to worry so much.” He kissed me on the forehead. “I own this place and you don’t need to pay any rent. And there’s time for everything else.”
“I just feel like I need to figure things out, fast. I need to be able to take care of myself on my own. You know, without my brother and my parents…”
“You have me,” he said simply. “And we’ll figure it out.”
“But you have your band. I’ve got nothing but a half-written book and a dream—”
“It’s a good dream,” he said. “We’ll figure it out.”
“But you’ll be leaving on tour, and—”
“Don’t. Stop talking like we’re over when the Players come together, okay?” He looked me deep in the eyes, and I wasn’t sure what to say.
“Aren’t we…?” I said.
We stood there, just looking at each other.
It was the first time I’d said it out loud, and I realized that ever since we’d made the decision to move in together, a few days ago, that’s what I’d assumed this would be. A for-now sort of thing, until he went on tour with his new band.
After that… who knew?
Xander wasn’t the kind of guy to stay faithful to me while he was away, on the road, for long stretches of time… Was he?
“No,” he said. “We aren’t.”
“But how will we—“
“I’m not letting you go,” he said, firmly, pulling me against him. “I don’t know how, and I don’t care. But I’m not letting you go.” Then he squeezed me in his arms, tight, and kissed me.
After that, I kinda forgot about unpacking.
Instead, we had hot, slow, amazing sex on our walk-in closet floor… in the middle of which, he told me he loved me again.
Several times.
He told me again afterward, as we got dressed.
And again, when we were out for dinner.
* * *
That night, we went to the Artemis, a nightclub in downtown Vancouver where DJ Summer was playing a sold out show—and we were VIPs. We were on her guest list, entered by way of a back door, and hung out in the roped-off VIP area with her other guests.
When we arrived, it was close to eleven, Summer would soon be taking the stage, and the party was in full effect.
It was our first public “appearance” together, and while people flocked to Xander to shake his hand, give him a hug or a drink, and generally try to get his attention, he introduced me to everyone he knew. I got to officially meet his assistant, Jordan, his bodyguard, Lucas, and say hi to a bunch of his friends—includ
ing his new lead singer, Ashley Player, and of course, Summer.
As his girlfriend.
I didn’t ask him to, but Xander made it clear to everyone we talked to that I was his girl.
I loved it.
This was badass rock star Xander, in all his glory and in his element. In a packed club on a Saturday night. Everyone seemed to know him, or at least know of him.
Even Angie’s sister, Elle, was there; she gave me a smile when she saw my hand in Xander’s.
The other musicians in the VIP area all seemed happy to see him. Girls stared and bit their lips when he walked by…
He didn’t even glance their way.
He was mine, and I loved this rock star version of Xander Rush almost as much as I loved the guy who’d teared up in his bed when I told him I loved him.
We found a good spot to sit, at a table with Ashley and his girlfriend, Danica. I liked her immediately. She moved over to make room for me and quickly ordered me a drink from the waitress. Then she peppered me with friendly questions, clearly wanting to get to know me.
We had a great view of the stage and Summer’s DJ setup. Summer had just disappeared backstage, and as her set neared and the energy built, I put back a couple of cocktails with Danica while Xander talked to Ashley.
When Summer finally hit the stage, she ripped into her own pumping remix of Gwen Stefani’s “What You Waiting For?,” got the whole club jumping, and pretty much set the tone for the night.
A+.
Seriously.
No one threw a party like this woman. I couldn’t wait to see what kind of music she put together with Ashley Player… and my man.
While I drank with Danica and enjoyed the music, Xander made eyes at me across the table.
With a little distance between us, I could see him differently. I saw that guy I’d known for years, but never really knew. That beautiful, tattooed prince I’d wanted so badly, from a distance.
I could hardly believe I was going home with him tonight.
To our home.
Partway through Summer’s set, he moved over to sit next to me. He leaned into me and said, “Do me a favor, alright? Stay away from him.”
Filthy Beautiful: A Players Rockstar Romance (Players #2) Page 37