West’s phone buzzes, and he slides his finger across to check the message. A couple seconds later he sits forward, “Oh, hell, yeah,” and holds up his phone. “Ms. Kelly’s throwing a party in Pittsburg for everyone on the tour.”
Both of our phones buzz next, and Anne and I simultaneously check ours, too.
Anne perks up, reading her message, and excitedly looks over at me. “You, my friend, are not only going, but you’re totally getting drunk.”
Chapter Twenty
Party-Party-Party! This is the text I get from West.
See you there! This is the one I get from Simon.
If you don’t come I’ll be Piiiiissssseeeeddddd!!!!!
And this is the one from Anne.
Anne parties a lot, and in the short amount of time I’ve known her, I’ve only gone to one with her. It was a big mistake with the crowd and the drunks and everyone bumping into each other. Definitely not my scene. But this time she asked, and Simon, and West, too, and so here I stand staring at the door that leads out to the hotel’s rooftop party in Pittsburg.
Music thumps the air, and through the glass panels I see everyone I know from the road packed in tight, laughing and dancing and drinking. This is a private one, so there are no reporters, no cameras, but everyone from the road is here—the festival bands, the sound crew, the lighting techs, the production staff, and various other people.
This is supposed to be fun, I remind myself as I take a step toward the double doors, but new nerves jitter through me, making my palms slick, and I close my eyes and tell myself to breathe. I think about my hotel room, just a few floors below, all safe and quiet. I’m being ridiculous. I know this. No one’s going to grab me. No one’s going to do anything to me. People will be in my personal space, and they will be touching me, but I’ll be okay. I’ll be okay.
Opening my eyes, I take in the scene again. I can’t be like this forever. I have to be comfortable at some point. If I was courageous enough to run away, if I was brave enough to have survived the first sixteen years of my life, then I’m bold enough to walk in there and attend this party.
With renewed strength, I reach for the door and swing it open and am greeted with music and laughter and nippy October air. A few people glance up, recognize me, and go back to whatever they were doing. Tucking my hands into my hoodie, I look around the packed rooftop as the music’s beat thumps through my veins. People are everywhere amidst the tables and twinkle lights and what seems like tons of open bars.
I scan the crowd for Anne, or West, don’t see either one and decide to scoot along the perimeter. One person gives me a smile, and I give one back, but it comes out awkward and shaky.
“Holy shit, you’re really here.”
I glance over my shoulder to see Anne coming toward me and relax a little bit. “Just now.”
“I was about to come down and see if I could talk you in to coming up.” She hands me a cup. “Here drink this.”
I sniff it. “What is it?”
“Alcohol.” Anne rolls her eyes.
I laugh. “Point taken.”
“I’m really glad you’re here,” she says.
I smile and take a sip of the drink. It’s not half bad. Kind of fruity.
“Be right back,” she tells me and heads off.
I stand along the outer wall, glancing through the packed crowd, admittedly looking for a fedora. I find West over near a bar, wearing faded jeans, a black leather jacket, and for a change, no fedora. He takes a sip of his bottled beer and laughs at something some guy I don’t recognize says. Taking a sip of my drink, I enjoy the moment of just watching without him knowing I am.
Anne comes back with a new cup and taps it to mine. “To pals.”
“To pals,” I agree and take another sip that turns into more of a healthy drink.
“So,” Anne nods over her shoulder, “see the chick in the brown suede jacket?”
I look back at West to see him staring right at me. Warmth flushes through my cheeks, and his face breaks into a big grin.
“Do you see her?” Anne prods.
Carrying his beer bottle, West comes straight toward me through the crowd, and with each step he takes, everything around me fades to just him. “Hey, Green Eyes,” he says, stopping in front of me and lifting my hand to kiss the knuckles. “When’d you get here?”
No one’s ever kissed my knuckles. Not even Gideon. It makes me feel like a blue-haired princess. “A few minutes ago,” I answer, noting the happy tone in my voice.
He leans in a little bit as he peers down into my cup. “Oh no, that’s not the party punch, is it?”
My thoughts skip around as I try to grab onto an answer, but all I can focus on is his nearness and his scent.
“Yes, it’s the party punch,” Anne supplies the obvious answer. “Now will you both stop ignoring me and check out the Latina chick with the brown suede jacket?”
West and I turn to see who Anne is pointing to.
“Well?” She looks at both of us. “Yay or nay?”
West nods. “Hot.”
I nod, too. “Definitely.”
“But,” West continues, “she’s dating Ms. Kelly.”
Anne frowns. “Oh.”
“Speaking of Ms. Kelly,” West nods over Anne’s shoulder, “she’s waving me down. I’ll be back.” With that he heads off.
“You’re giving that boy blue balls.”
“Anne!” I laugh.
“Figures hot Latina girl is taken,” Anne grumbles. “Just my luck.”
I glance back through the crowd to where I saw West go, and I watch as a gorgeous girl makes her way toward him. With her short dress, high heels, and long hair, she gathers more than one look from the guys. She approaches West and Ms. Kelly, and my guts clench as I recognize her. It’s the Lucy Liu look-alike girl.
I thought this party was private. What is she doing here? I watch as she runs her hand down West’s arm, and he turns. They exchange a smile, and jealousy twists all through me. He said he didn’t have a girlfriend.
The music transitions into a louder beat with more bass, and Anne pumps the air. “Yeah, let’s dance.”
Downing the rest of my drink, I toss it into a nearby garbage, and maybe it’s the alcohol or maybe it’s that girl and West, but I let Anne pull me into the crowd. We start to dance, and I block out the people around me as I shut my eyes and let myself absorb the music and the beat. A wave of dizziness flows through me and I sway. Someone bumps me, and I barely even care.
Anne’s laughter floats around me, and I chuckle with her as I turn a lazy circle and hear Anne say, “You go, girl.”
Someone bumps me again and I definitely don’t care this time.
Then someone’s hands are on my upper arms, trailing down to my wrists, and I open my eyes, expecting to see West, but see Toby, the drummer, instead.
He grasps my wrists and puts them behind my back, and I freeze. “I usually go for petite girls with big tits,” he slurs, “but tall, gangly works for you.”
A shiver crawls up my neck as he holds both my wrists with one hand and slides the other one up to grab my neck. Everything around me vanishes, and I’m suddenly thrown back in time as Gideon ties my wrists behind my back. This is what happens when you resist.
The rooftop party blurs to my old bedroom and then back again. I yank at Toby’s hold, panic banging so hard within me that I think I’m about to explode. “N-n-no…”
Toby buries his face in my neck, and I feel his moist breath as he releases my wrists and starts to slide his hand under the hem of my hoodie and up my back. “Love to see you in bed. It’s you quiet ones that are the loudest.”
“No,” I try to scream, but it comes out more as a strangled cry. “No!” I wedge my hands between us and push—right at the moment that he’s yanked off of me.
I stumble back, straight into a couple of people, and glance up in time to see West shove Toby into one of the bars. Bottles crash, the place gets quiet, and as the music continues
thumping the night air, I turn.
And I run.
Chapter Twenty-One
I avoid the elevator and go straight for the stairwell. With a strangled gasp, I fling it open, and I race down the stairs. The alcohol rises up my esophagus as I round a landing and keep heading down. My whole life I’ve been submissive and scared. Why couldn’t I have been someone different just now? Why couldn’t I have just shoved Toby off of me and told him to get away?
I inhale a sharp breath and give my wrists a shake to get the feeling of his skin off of mine. My pace picks up as I round another floor, and Bluma’s words come back to me, Gideon no longer has any power over you. Ha! What a joke. He will always have power over me. Always. He’s not even here and yet he still has control.
A bead of sweat trails down the side of my face as I pick up my pace even more. Pressure pushes in, and the stairwell tilts. I grab on to the railing and try to inhale, but I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe! I yank my hoodie off and tug at the collar of my T-shirt. Breathe!
Finally, I manage to catch a shallow breath, and I glance up to see I’m on floor fifteen. I push off and keep going down. I need air. Now. By the time I reach floor one, sweat has soaked me totally through, but I shove through the exit door, straight into the brisk air, and start walking.
I round the block, step right through a group of people, and keep going.
You brought this unto yourself. Why do you do this? Why do you make me do this?
Gideon’s words echo through my head, and my breath hitches. I squeeze my eyes shut. Go away! I stumble down an alley, backing up against a brick wall, and gasp for a breath that seems permanently clogged. I should have never gone to that party.
Leaning down, I brace my hands on my knees and fight the bile bittering my mouth. A chill races across me, and I slip my hoodie back on and then just stand for several minutes breathing. In my back pocket my cell vibrates, but I don’t check it. I know it’s either Anne or West, and I can’t face them right now. I just can’t.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I wander the streets for I don’t know how long and end up in a park just a couple of blocks from the hotel. When I finally pull my phone out, I notice it’s after midnight, and West and Anne have both texted me an equal amount of times.
Where r u?!
What the hell. Get back here!
Are you okay?
Why aren’t you picking up?
And on and on they go. I pull up West’s name first and start to compose a message back—
“Jesus!” I hear and jerk around to see him racing toward me. He doesn’t stop as he slides onto the park bench beside me and wraps his arms around me. Immediately, I tense, but he just hugs me harder until I ease into it.
Melt into it actually as I bury my face in his neck and just breathe in all that is him. I think I could stay right here, surrounded in his comfort forever.
He pulls back then and gives my face a very long look. I study his clenched jaw and the tension around his eyes. He’s really upset, and I’m the reason why. “I got your texts,” I lamely say.
“Why didn’t you answer them?” he demands.
His voice takes me off guard and flares a spark of anger in me. But just as quickly as it flares, it goes away. He has every right to be angry with me. As does Anne.
I stare down at my jeans as my foggy brain trudges back through the last couple of hours. “I guess because I didn’t know what to say.” Even to my own ears it sounds stupid.
West sighs. “I get that. I do. But whether you like it or not, Anne and I care about you. You can’t just walk off and ignore our stressed-out texts. Especially not after what happened. If you want time, that’s fine. But at least tell us that.”
I don’t respond. He’s right.
He reaches over and takes take my hand, and we hold each other’s gazes for a few beats. I know West. I trust him. He’s here to help.
I trust him…
That thought slams into me. Other than Bluma, I’ve never completely trusted anyone. “I’m sorry about all that back there. I’m sorry if I screwed up the party.”
West shoves off the bench, and I watch him pace away before swerving to confront me. “You’re unbelievable. Toby’s a grab ass, and he never knows when to stop. I can’t believe you’re apologizing for ‘screwing up the party’. That’s not what you should be apologizing for.”
I don’t know what to say. West is really mad, and it’s all my fault. I wish this whole night would just go away. I wish I had West’s ability to say something funny, make us both laugh, and forget all of this.
“You said no. He should’ve stopped. That is the bottom line, Eve.”
I nod. He’s right. Of course I know he’s right.
“What did he do to you?” he asks.
Nausea suddenly rises up, and I shake my head.
West crosses the short distance and kneels in front of me. He wraps his hands around the backs of my calves and gently squeezes. “What did he do?”
The need to tell him everything or at least something rises quickly in me, but catches in my mouth. It’s like I’ve broken off a piece to give him, but I’m choking on the rest. Silence hangs between us as I study his quiet expression.
“Nothing,” I whisper, wishing I were better at this talking thing. Wishing it wasn’t so hard.
No.
I give my head a shake. I will talk. “He…he held my wrists, and…and I don’t like that. Actually, there are a lot of things I can’t handle.” Fear bangs through me as I say that last part. It’s the most I’ve ever shared. Ever.
West doesn’t respond and instead just continues studying me in that thorough way he does, and as he studies me, he slowly moves his hands up my legs and around the back side of me to loosely cradle me. “This okay?”
I give a nod, suddenly extremely aware of how close we are—him kneeling in front of me with his hands and arms gently circling my hips. But I’m not scared because…everything about it is so right—the closeness, the comfort, the warmth—yes, so right.
It’s only me and West here in this park, and the weight of tonight’s events dissolve as a sense of freedom moves in. I find myself taking in every detail of his face. His dark brows, his black eyes, his perfect, kissable lips. Those lips curl up then, and awareness surges through my veins. If I lean forward, just a little bit, I’ll be kissing them. I’ll be kissing a guy for the very first time in my life. My gaze flicks up into his eyes, and they crinkle with kindness. He’s not going to close the distance and kiss me. He’s waiting for me to make the first move.
Wow. What a powerful thought. I get to determine what happens.
My mouth goes a little dry as I lift my hand and trace my index finger over his right brow, down the side of his cheek, and along his bottom lip. I do the same to the left side of his face, this time trailing my fingers down his neck.
“You’re so different from me,” I whisper, loving the tickle of his whiskers against my fingers.
“Do you realize this is the first time you’ve ever voluntarily touched me?”
I let my hand linger on his neck. “Is…is that okay?”
He nods as he closes his eyes and lays his head in my lap. “Yes, it’s so very much okay.”
I run my fingers through his hair, definitely more comfortable now with the touching, and he inhales a very long breath before letting it out slowly.
“Do me a favor?” he asks, lifting his head to look at me.
I nod as I caress my finger along the curve of his ear. Yes, I’m definitely liking this touching.
“Answer your messages next time. Okay? I don’t like going insane.”
“I will,” I assure him.
“I have to tell you something.”
“Okay.”
He takes a breath. “Your problems kind of scare me,” he says and immediately tightens his hold on me when I try to pull away. “Don’t. I didn’t say that to make you feel weird. I’m trying to be honest. Sometimes I feel awkward
around you, and I’m not used to that.”
“You don’t have to be my friend,” I tell him, hearing the irritation in my tone.
He lets out a humorless laugh. “That’s just it. I want to be your friend. There’s something about you that pulls me in, if that makes sense.”
It does. Because something about him draws me in, too. “West, just…be patient with me, okay?”
“Oh, Eve.” He leans in and presses a very soft, lingering kiss to my right cheek, and way down deep, something inside of me loosens. He gets to his feet and holds his hand out. “Come on, it’s getting cold. Let’s head back.”
Together we walk from the park and through the night back to our hotel. Outside my door, he gives me one more kiss on the cheek and I almost, almost, turn to meet his lips.
When I walk into our room, Anne sits straight up in bed. “Holy Noah with an ark, you’re alive.”
I give a guilty cringe. “Sorry.”
She plops back down in bed. “Why didn’t you just hit Toby instead of running?”
I don’t feel like going back into this. I’m exhausted. “I will if it ever happens again. I’m really sorry I worried you. West already gave me a piece of his mind.” I take my hoodie off and toss it onto my duffel. “They didn’t fight, did they?” God, I hope not.
“No. West shoved him, people stepped in, blah, blah, blah. I took off looking for you. Then West. The party continued. Almost everyone was drunk so it’s all kind of a blur. In case you were worried you made a scene.”
“I was. So thank you for that.”
Anne sits back up in bed. “Seriously, Eve, West was freaked out when he couldn’t find you.”
My emotions do a somersault. I’m happy he cares for me so much, but also guilty that I worried him so.
She grabs her phone and turns it off, and I realize she’s been up waiting on me to call, to text, to come back, and that thought punches me straight in the gut. Anne really is a good friend. A friend I don’t want to lose.
“Can I hug you?” I ask.
She blinks. “Sorry, what? Did you say ‘hug me’?”
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