I frown at him but raise my hands and back up. But when I turn around, Maxi’s close behind, smirking at me.
“Hoping to get a lap dance while you’re here?” she asks dryly.
I cock an eyebrow. “Why, are you offering?” I want to take the words back as soon as they’re out, but verbally sparring with Maxi is second nature now.
She pulls a face. “Um. No.” Then she takes a too-quick sip of coffee. But it doesn’t stop me from seeing how red her face turns. Interesting.
“Don’t worry, I’m not into chicks who’d be happier if I spontaneously combusted,” I assure her.
Maxi throws up a hand. “For the last time, I don’t hate you,” she responds, sounding exasperated. “That would require —”
“Feeling something. Yeah, I’ve heard that song and dance before, Maxi. I’m starting to think you’re saying it to convince yourself.”
She props her free hand on her hip. “And what exactly does that mean?”
I sigh heavily, mostly frustrated with myself as I close the gap between us, so we’re not overheard.
I stop directly in front of her, leaning in and catching her eye. The intensity between us skyrockets as soon as her hazel eyes meet mine.
“It means you have every right to feel something toward me, Maxi. Hate. Dislike. Anger. Whatever. But please, stop pretending I didn’t completely shatter your trust. I deserve it. I deserve whatever you’ve got to throw at me. And you deserve to let it out. Whenever you want to do that, I’ll listen. And afterward I’ll still be as fucking sorry about what happened as I am right now. You have no fucking clue how sorry I am. I wish I could take it back, but I can’t. But please, for the love of Christ, stop pretending like I didn’t hurt you.”
Maxi stares back at me in shock, her mouth hanging open.
“Mr. Westberg, Ms. Marshall, we’re ready for you now,” Carter’s assistant calls from behind me.
And when I turn back to Maxi, she’s already skirted around me to head into the club, leaving me to wonder if she really heard me or if she’s going to continue avoiding her very real feelings toward me forever.
With a shake of my head, I head in after her. Carter is just inside.
“I hope you’re already rolling because shit’s going to get real, fast,” I tell him.
Carter’s brows hop up and he turns and nods to his assistant. Maxi pops up on my other side just as they indicate they’re recording.
They have us sit in the club’s waiting area on sticky baby blue vinyl couches.
“So, West, we’re here today to see Sadie Sullivan, the woman you were dating right before rehab. How are you feeling?”
I try hard not to reply with a snarky comment. But I’m getting pretty sick of being asked how I’m feeling about everything all the time. Because trust me, they don’t want the truth.
“Well, Sadie’s a firecracker, so I’ve gotta admit that I’m a little nervous.”
“Did you two not leave things on a good note?” she presses.
I can’t help the skeptical look I give her. She must know. Everyone knows.
“Seeing as the last time we were together we were arrested for fucking on a theme park ride, in full view of the public, I’m going to go with no, we didn’t leave things on a good note.”
“That was the day you were busted for possession with intent to distribute, wasn’t it?”
I huff an unamused laugh. “I still don’t get why they think one couple couldn’t do all that coke,” I reply jokingly.
Maxi frowns. Oof. Not winning any awards for cute here.
“Yes,” I follow up. “It was the last straw, as far as the legal system was concerned. That was when I was given the choice between jail and rehab.”
“Was it part of the court order for you to stay away from Sadie?”
I shake my head. “That just happened. I wasn’t allowed visitors in rehab for the first month, and by the time I was … I dunno. I guess I thought it was best to just let her go.” Best for my sobriety, that is, but I don’t voice that part.
“But you were in a relationship for two years, correct?”
I nod my confirmation, though I wouldn’t exactly call it a relationship. Intoxicated fucking is more like it. Sadie loved to fuck. She loved the drugs. And she really loved being with someone famous. But she didn’t love me. And I didn’t love her either, for that matter.
“Wow. So you pretty much left her hanging,” Maxi says.
I fight the glare I want to shoot her. But I guess I deserve her judgment, more so than anyone’s.
I spread my hands in surrender. “That’s why we’re here today, right?”
“Right,” Maxi says softly. “Are you ready?”
I rise. “As I’ll ever be.”
Carter’s assistant scrambles forward to show me into the club proper as the camera follows. Since they just opened, thankfully only a few people are at tables, mostly up against the stage. But the assistant, whose name I clearly never remember, veers to the right almost immediately, and I know exactly where he’s taking us.
A private room. One that normally entertains every manner of debauchery, much of which Sadie and I engaged in here ourselves. And my suspicion that they brought us here for the mere spectacle of flesh and sex is pretty much confirmed. These places never let people bring cameras in, yet here we are, about to film in one of the most private locations they offer.
At least there’s a camera rolling to keep Sadie from actually murdering me.
“I’ll be here the whole time,” he assures me, making me wonder if Maxi managed to say something to him.
Or maybe the management here required we not be left alone in a room together with just a camera. That makes me laugh.
The assistant knocks and I’m suddenly wishing I’d worn a cup. Or anything that’ll protect my balls when Sadie decides to try ripping them off.
“Come in,” a female voice calls.
The assistant opens the door and gestures for me to enter. I walk in and they follow. And there she is. All five-feet-six-inches of Sadie in all her platform-heeled, curled-blond hair, shiny pink-lipped, barely-there cowgirl outfit glory.
“West,” she cries, throwing herself into my arms.
I’m so caught off guard, I let her, and the camera moves around us to capture the reunion.
“Nice to see you too, Sadie.” Well. Maybe this won’t be as bad as I thought.
I pry her off me as subtly as I can. And as soon as she’s away, she reels back one arm and smacks me so hard my head twists to the side.
“Holy shit,” I cry. “What the hell?”
“That’s for never breaking up with me, asshole,” she yells. Then she pushes me.
But just as Maxi pointed out, she’s tiny, so it barely registers. Once she realizes that, she swings out with a leg. I attempt to dodge it, but she gets me in the shin with the sharp tip of her heel and I lean to the side, pulling the weight off my leg in reaction to the pain.
“And that’s for getting me arrested,” she spits.
“Okay, I get it, I’m sorry, Sadie. Really. Jesus. You can stop now,” I cry, throwing up a hand when I see her coming back at me.
“Oh, I’m just getting started,” she says, making to knee me in the groin.
But I push her knee aside with one hand before she can connect. She topples backward into me, but not content to be thwarted, she reaches up with her clawlike nails as she falls, grabbing at my face.
I hear the assistant calling for security as I dart into a corner and she rights herself.
“I’m not here to fight,” I assure her, holding my hand up and hobbling from the injury to my shin.
“Then you shouldn’t have come,” Sadie hisses.
She lashes out with a fist that I grab, spinning her around and holding her back against my front, her arms locked in mine, rendering her helpless. Unfortunately, my starved dick likes it more than I do, and she knows it, grinding against me. With a hiss, I release her and she spins away, facin
g me and looking like she’s trying to figure out where to strike next.
“You were there too,” I remind her. “Nobody forced drugs on you. That’s what we did, Sadie, it’s who we were together. But I’m not that guy anymore. And I’m sorry if I hurt you, but you have to stop now.”
She screams like an animal and launches herself at me just as a huge security guard catches her by the waist. She wriggles and screams against him.
“Fuck you, West. FUCK! YOU!” she screams. “You ruined my life that day. I will never forgive you. Never!”
The security guard hauls her out, only to be replaced by an older man. “I think you guys should leave,” he huffs. “Hope you got what you came for.”
About half an hour later, after Carter’s crew has pulled out of the strip club, I find myself sitting on a bench with the club in the background, waiting for Maxi to do the post interview. I’ve already checked myself for damage — there’s just one scratch along my jawline to go with the painful bruise on my shin — now I just need to calm myself down.
“I watched the footage. You weren’t wrong about her.” Maxi’s voice suddenly behind me startles me so much I jump a little. She settles on the bench next to me. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
I give her a small smile. “Not your fault. I’m a little on edge right now.”
She nods understandingly. “I don’t blame you. God, what a vindictive bitch to use an opportunity where you were going to apologize to physically attack you. I won’t even ask why. She’s clearly got issues. But I think the real question is, are you okay?”
“You’re concerned about me?” I ask, shaking my head in disbelief.
“I’m … yes. I’m concerned. And I’m angry. And disappointed. And hurt,” she admits, twisting her fingers together. “But I also feel guilty. I don’t want to be any of those things at you. Maybe because deep down I know what addiction does to a person, and that I’m blaming you when I should be blaming the disease.”
“I made the choices that led me there,” I reply. “But thank you for saying that.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asks skeptically.
I look at her. Really look at her. Her luscious, wavy hair. Her rocker chick band T-shirt style — today it’s The Who. But mostly I look at her and think about the things you can’t see. Just like you can’t see addiction, Maxi doesn’t show her pain either. But I know it’s there. And knowing I caused it sucks balls.
“Yeah, I’m fine, thanks. Are we fine, Maxi?”
She huffs a sigh out of her nose. “Look, I know I’ve become some kind of metaphor for you earning forgiveness. But you don’t need me to forgive you, West. I’m nobody to you. There is no ‘we.’ Yes, what you did hurt me, but I’m a big girl. I’ve been dealing with it for years, and I’ll continue to.”
“Is that a fancy way of saying you won’t forgive me?”
She twists her fingers faster. “I hear your apology. And I appreciate it. I don’t know. I want to forgive you. I’m just not there yet.”
“That’s fair,” I admit.
She looks up at me. “Did Sadie knock the sass out of you? You’re being so calm and mature.”
I laugh. “Maybe.” I shrug.
“Dude, seriously. You haven’t made fun of me once this whole conversation. This is weird.”
“It is a little weird, isn’t it?”
Now it’s her turn to laugh. “Glad it’s not just me.”
Carter and crew show up, starting to set up their equipment for the post-apology interview. But before we get there, I can’t let one thing she said go unchallenged.
“Maxi?”
“Hm?”
“You’re not nobody to me. Not even close.”
12
In Between by Linkin Park
* * *
Max
After our strange conversation outside of the strip club, my biggest concern was that when we flew to San Francisco, I’d have to sit with West. I have no idea what to say to him right now. I don’t even know what I think about everything he said yet.
Thankfully, I ended up taking an earlier flight to do some legwork with Alexsis. Giving me time to unpack what his words made me feel.
He said everything I’d ever wanted to hear from him and more. But instead of feeling vindicated, I’m more confused than ever. So here I am, sitting in coach, talking to Alexsis about it.
“Maybe it’s because you spent the last three years pretending you didn’t hate him,” she offers. “That’s a hard switch to just turn off.”
“I didn’t hate him,” I protest. “Why does everyone think that? There’s so much more wrapped up in what happened. I don’t hate him, not at all. But I was angry. Am angry? I don’t know. That is a hard switch to turn off.”
“And you don’t have to. Just because he’s got a sudden pathological need to be forgiven doesn’t mean you’re expected to magically get over it.”
“Thank you,” I tell her. “I definitely feel that pressure. But you’re right. I don’t have to. Let’s talk about something else. How are things going with Ford?”
Alexsis pulls a face. “Eh. After the first date magic wore off — okay, maybe second or third date — I realized you were right. He’s a pompous asshole.”
I heave a comical sigh of relief. “Well thank god you figured that out on your own.”
“I guess. I just don’t get it. There were sparks! And he had so much promise. Why does it have to be so hard to find a decent guy?” she groans. “I mean, how many frogs do I have to kiss for fuck’s sake?”
I chuckle. “You’re asking the wrong girl. There’s a reason I don’t date more. At some point it becomes a chore, and you just have to back off and realize your life is pretty fucking awesome as it is.”
Alexsis tilts her head. “You know what? You’re right. I graduated college. I’m a journalist at a rock magazine. I’m traveling to — er, not-so-exotic but still cool locations.”
“San Francisco is cool. And maybe after we get this apology shoot we can go out and see some sights before we head home.”
“I’m down with that,” she agrees. “Speaking of the shoot. We should start spitballing locations since the owner of the café the sister wants to meet at isn’t on board.”
“Okay, what have you got?”
She opens her laptop and pulls up a marked map. “Café is here,” she says, pointing. Then shifting her finger a bit to the right. “There’s a public park nearby.”
I shake my head. “You don’t know the full story behind this apology,” I realize.
“I guess not. But why does that affect the shoot location?” she asks, puzzled.
“Trust me. We don’t want this one public. Can we just get a suite at the hotel? Something with a living room?” I muse.
“That could work. I’ll get on it when we check in.”
“Perfect. Thanks, Alexsis. You know. For listening.”
She gives me a funny half-smile. “Anytime. When you realize you still have the hots for West, I want to listen to that too.”
I roll my eyes. “Ha! Don’t hold your breath.”
Despite what I said to Alexsis, her comment triggered something in me. Something I didn’t realize until we met up with West in the living room of his suite, which we’ve decided to use for the shoot. But as soon as we walked in for our pre-apology prep and interviewing, I knew. I knew she was right.
The sight of him pacing. Running his hands through his thick, dark hair. The intensity. It’s exactly what he does on stage. What I’ve personally watched him do on stage more times than I can count, granted usually with Rosie hanging from a strap around his neck. But it’s that intensity that always drew me to him. The dark, pulsing energy that rolls off him in waves. It’s like a magnet.
I should hate this guy for all eternity. But I don’t. What is wrong with me? Do I have a savior complex? Perhaps, though I don’t think that’s the appeal for me. While part of West’s draw has always been the tortured bad-boy ang
le, I’ve seen firsthand now that he’s not bad. But he is troubled. And while I don’t think for a minute anything I could do would fix him, it’s hard not to want to go wrap my arms around him.
But I don’t do that. Instead, I stand frozen just inside the door, a realization hitting me like a ton of bricks: Forgiving him is like giving myself permission to remember the rock star I fell in love with from afar. Except now I know him up close. And he riles me in good and bad ways. But it’s the good ways that worry me. Because I don’t think I’d survive another Kristoffer Westberg heartbreak. And the bad ways? I have to admit, it’s kind of exciting to spar with him verbally. I know he enjoys it. Maybe I do too.
He looks up and catches my eye. I suddenly feel naked, like he can see every thought that was passing through my mind. As he continues to hold my gaze, the feeling intensifies, until Carter grabs his attention to discuss logistics.
Before I’m prepared, I’m pulled in for the pre-interview. West and I take a seat on the couch while they finalize lighting.
“Hey,” I offer lamely. “So this is going to be a tough one. You ready?”
“More than you know. I’m just so fucking relieved they got her to agree to come here. I don’t even care if they paid her to do it,” he admits.
My brows bunch together. “You didn’t think she would?”
He gives me a look. “I already told you where she’s at. She knows what I want. I’ve been trying to get her to talk to me for more than a year, but she’s refused all contact.”
“I don’t think they paid her,” I offer. “Maybe she was just ready this time.”
He shakes his head. “I’d like to believe that, but I was here a month ago and nothing had changed. I’m just bracing myself for the possibility that she’s not coming for the reasons I hope she is.”
The anguish on his face gets to me, and before I can think about it, I reach out and squeeze his hand reassuringly. I have no words to offer. What do I know about his sister or their relationship? The least I can do is offer comfort.
Finding His Redemption Page 8