Lovestruck

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Lovestruck Page 7

by Romy Lockhart


  It is paved with good intentions, after all.

  Feeling like shit, I get through the next day like anyone else who has ever been brutally hung-over and forced to get through a full eight hours of work. I keep all movement and talking to a bare minimum, and I take one look at lunch before deciding it isn’t worth the risk to eat it. Ronnie is hyper enough to make me groan. She keeps asking me questions about the date, so I tell her to mind the counter while I do some cataloguing in the back office. I sit down in the dark and mentally beat myself up for thinking for one second that my mistake wouldn’t come back to bite me.

  This whole shit-storm could have been avoided. I should have known better. I should have said no and let the stranger write it. Eden wouldn’t be pissed at me if that was how things went down.

  I finally get home where I can lie in bed, waiting to pass out and have this miserable day be over and done with. Sleep doesn’t come, and I’m left wondering if this is it. This is all my life is going to be. It’s a depressing thought. Not for the first time, I consider leaving town. Financial ties aside, what’s really holding me here? I don’t find an answer, and the morning creeps up on me very suddenly.

  I consider calling in sick. For the first time ever. I end up dragging myself out of bed. I don’t want to even look at the suits hanging up in my closet, so I just pick out a shirt and pants. I figure I should look how I feel, a pathetic asshole with no prospects, but I’m not quite morbidly depressed enough to look for the ripped jeans and paint-spattered t-shirt I only ever wear to do D.I.Y. shit around the house. My hangover is gone, but I’m still feeling sick to my stomach over how everything crashed and burned at the end of one amazing date. I can’t eat breakfast, and I barely taste the sip of coffee I take to try and force some life into these weary bones. I manage to spill a drop on my sleeve as I pour it into the sink. I don’t bother to change. The stain darkens as it dries. It’s never coming out. I can’t even force myself to care.

  I was so close to true happiness and screwing myself over was probably a fitting way to slap that heaven out of my grasp. I want to do something about this, to make things right, but I know I can’t.

  Movies lie. Happy endings can’t be fought for. I can’t just harass the woman I’ve let down until she realizes she can’t live without me. She’s done fine with me out of her life for years. She doesn’t need me. I need to accept that.

  Chapter Nineteen

  *

  EDEN

  The glazier seems to be taking forever, and my muse hasn’t made another visit since she left. I also haven’t come up with a good enough reason to leave without arousing Logan’s suspicions. There’s no way he’ll let me go without coming with me anyway. I get up from the breakfast bar.

  “I’m going to paint my nails.”

  He looks over and nods. “Bring the stuff down here. It’s brighter for doing that in here anyway.”

  I frown at him. “Are you going to escort me upstairs to get it, too?”

  He seems to consider it before shaking his head. “Just be quick.”

  I roll my eyes. He really doesn’t want me out of his sight. This is going to drive me insane.

  Darting up the stairs, I come up with a plan. It’s not ideal. But I know I won’t get away with holing up to read, and I know I can’t read Asher’s book in front of Logan. The romance book I didn’t read yet is sitting on my bedside table. I pull the dust-jacket off and check the size is the same. I blow out a sigh of relief when it fits. Sitting around doing nothing is driving me insane. I need to be doing something and finding out if Asher really betrayed me with this thing will at least be a constructive way to waste a few hours. I shove the romance book in the drawer once it’s covered with my autobiography cover. I remember about the nail polish after that.

  Going into the bathroom, I pick out a shade and take the bottle with me. I go back down the stairs and walk past Logan, who’s watching the glazier work from the doorway. He turns and raises an eyebrow until I shake the bottle of varnish at him.

  He’s fixated on the book. “You’re into trashy romance?”

  “A girl can get into anything when she’s out of her mind bored.”

  He nods slowly. “We should go out tonight.”

  “We should?” I raise my eyebrows at him. It’s the last thing I expected him to say.

  “I mean, if you feel like doing something…” He’s worried about me being bored. Just not enough to let me off the leash. Kind of annoying, but I try not to sweat it.

  “We’ll see,” I tell him, heading to the couch and getting comfy. I put the nail polish down and start flipping through the front matter to get to the first chapter. I just hope I don’t get pissed enough to forget I’m trying to be sneaky with it. Throwing it across the room might seem suspicious. I take a breath and get started.

  Chapter Twenty

  *

  LOGAN

  My conversation with Eden’s doctor plays on my mind. He told me she has a new guy, in town. That he passed her medical file along, with recommendations about her prescriptions. It’s weird, but not totally unexpected. I don’t like it. The new guy won’t know me, he won’t talk to me. If I want answers I’ll have to ask Eden, and she’ll take it the wrong way. Or she’ll want to know why I’m asking, and that’ll only escalate into an argument. I need to forget it.

  If it happens again, I’ll find a way to deal with it. If I’m worried about her safety, her new doctor will need to speak to me. He’ll have to take my concerns seriously.

  I watch her from across the room, lounging on the couch reading some bodice-ripper. It’s a strange choice for her. She was never much of a reader before. Once in a while, she’d pick a thriller to read on a plane journey but that was as keen as she got. She’s smiling as she reads, laughing every now and then. It feels more like she’s watching a comedy on TV. She never engages this well with a book.

  Usually she’d read a few chapters, close it and go to sleep. A shrug was the response when she eventually hit the end. If I asked how it was, I got a stock response of either ‘okay’ or ‘not bad’.

  It’s a little odd to see her enjoy herself like this over something that usually doesn’t move her. Maybe it’s the genre-change. She’d been reading the wrong kind of book before.

  I fix lunch when it gets to be time for that. The glazier finishes up and Eden closes the book. She moves over to the kitchen area as he leaves. Her smile is gone. She’s chewing on her lower lip as she leans on the counter.

  “Sandwiches are about the only thing I can make for lunch, as you well know. We can go out for dinner later though.” Her expression doesn’t change, and I know something bad is coming. I’ve upset her somehow, without even realizing it. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know how to say this.”

  “What is it?” I come around the counter to get closer to her. Desperation has seeped into me on seeing that look on her face. She’s going to tell me last night was a mistake. I can feel it.

  “Your heart stopped yesterday. I felt it. You almost died.”

  I shake my head. “I’m fine. It was just a migraine.”

  “You are fine, now. You weren’t.” She takes a deep breath. “It was fucked up, and I was afraid I’d lost you.”

  I cup her face and stroke her cheeks. “You didn’t lose me. You’ll never lose me.”

  I plant my mouth on hers, to claim her before she can reject me. She doesn’t push me away, she kisses back. So, I pull her in close and hold her there. Maybe if we fall into bed together again, she won’t let the rest of those words spill from her lips.

  She pulls back after a moment and I know it’s done, but I refuse to let go.

  “This isn’t going to work, Logan.” She sounds unhappy, and she doesn’t look me in the eye.

  “It will. We love each other.”

  Her face reddens as I tilt her chin to make her meet my gaze.

  “I promise, Eden. Whatever is bothering you, it’s nothing. We can work it out.”


  She shakes her head slowly. “I don’t think we can.”

  I’m afraid of what the reason is now. I’m not sure I want to know, but I can’t let her just walk away. I waited so long to tell her how I felt. I was driven mad by her sexy glances, knowing I couldn’t have her, for so damned long. So close, and so far away. I shake my head.

  “I’m not letting you go.”

  She takes a shaky breath and her gaze doesn’t break from mine. The tears that fall down her cheeks break my heart before her words spark my anger. “We should never have slept together. I’m in love with Asher.”

  I feel like I’m going to explode with rage the instant I hear his name. I want to kill him now more than ever. “I’m not letting you go, Eden.”

  Her eyes close, and I know she’s afraid. Her whole body is shivering. I pull her in close and she sobs against my shoulder.

  “I love you,” I whisper. I’ll make her forget him. I did last night. If I hadn’t, she wouldn’t have been able to say yes to me. She wanted me desperately, and she will again.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  *

  EDEN

  I feel like I’m dying as I stand there, crying on Logan’s shoulder. It’s not fair. Everything is upside down. I can’t handle this. Any of it. It’s all too much.

  “Give the big idiot some time.” The sound of the sunglasses guy’s voice is enough to make me shudder.

  I’m losing my mind. He’s just here to confirm it. Maybe if I ignore him, he’ll go away.

  “You wish, Eden. I’m not going anywhere. You’re making a real mess of things, and it doesn’t need to be this way.”

  He can read my mind, big surprise. Yet more evidence that he’s inside my head. Not real. Imaginary. Just like my mother’s many unpleasant friends. The ones who made her shout and pull her hair out when they wouldn’t shut the hell up and leave her alone.

  What do you want from me? I think it while Logan strokes my back and whispers again that he loves me.

  “I want you to stop behaving like these idiot mortals with their pea-sized brains. They can’t conceive that love doesn’t need to be restricted to one other person. Most of them, anyway. Narrow-minded. Pathetic.”

  What are you saying?

  “I’m saying you’re a Goddess and you need to start behaving like it. Or your awakened powers will never fully manifest, and you might as well let this one rope you into the monogamous lifestyle that seems so popular among his race. If there weren’t so many filthy little one-night-stands going on amongst men like him it might actually be a half-decent choice. Unfortunately, humans are still highly driven by their libidos, not their hearts.”

  I try to take it in, to find the value in it, but hearing it out loud like this it all sounds like nonsense. Like I’m trying to make what I’m feeling somehow okay when it’s not. There’s no way to be okay with being in love with two men at once. It’s just not acceptable. I won’t cheat on either of them. I can’t stand the thought of hurting either of them. So, what does that leave?

  My imaginary visitor sighs. “Push this one away for now. It’ll make him come back with a better attitude. There are others you can focus on. They’re more open. They won’t try to force you to change something that you can’t.”

  He’s only telling me something I already know. Besides the plural of ‘others’ which I’m not going to fixate on. I’m just trying really hard not to think about the other guy. That’s all. I need to end things with Logan. It shouldn’t be so hard. We’ve barely even gotten started. How can it be so difficult? I wish I could stop crying.

  “This is for the best.” Sunglasses tells me, and it’s enough to nudge me back into action.

  I pull away and wipe at my eyes. “Logan, it’s no use. We’re no good together. This would never work.”

  He frowns at me, his anger still present. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

  “This isn’t about him. It’s about us.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “It doesn’t matter how much we love each other. You make me feel trapped.”

  His expression is as if I’ve struck him. I feel horrible. I need to get away from him. I pick up my bag and leave the house. I’m in my car, starting the engine before he comes out the house. He goes back inside without closing the door, and I curse under my breath as I start to drive. I don’t know where I’m going but it needs to be far from here. I don’t want to have to come back and see him tonight. I can’t deal with that.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  *

  NICK

  “Where do you want this one?” The framed poster is one of my favorites, for obvious reasons. I smile as I direct where it should be hung. The walls of the black-painted nightclub are being adorned with sexy rock stars in their most famous poses. Eden Rose Masterson’s sultry iconic pose with the microphone on a black stand between her fishnet-clad legs needs to be the most prominent.

  There are two reasons for this and neither of them have anything to do with every man in the country viciously envying that microphone stand. Or the pandemonium that saucy image caused when it was on billboards across the entire country. Traffic accidents rose for those couple of months, unsurprisingly. Her legs look better out of the stockings, in my opinion, but the expression captured on her face is what makes me break out in a hot sweat. That poster’s going to talk dirty to me every time I walk past it. Fuck. My jeans are getting tighter already.

  Where was I? Right, two reasons. One, she’s just moved back to town and the buzz is still hot to the touch. Two, she’s the woman I’ve been in love with ever since she started bringing her friends to my club in L.A. One hot kiss the weekend after she broke up with Hunter has been lingering in my memory for months. When she didn’t come back, I knew I had to find out where she’d disappeared to.

  Buying the club was the unexpected part. I did tend towards doing things on a whim, but I hadn’t expected to come across a good business opportunity in such a small, quiet town. It did seem to have enough charm to attract tourists from neighboring smaller towns, and it was going cheap because it had been on the market for a while. I was convinced the place would turn a nice profit. Even if I didn’t end up running into Eden, at least I’d expanded my portfolio.

  And I could give myself a million reasons why this was a great business decision, but none of them would come close to the real one. There’s only one reason to do something this crazy and that’s the big L. I know she feels something for me. I’m not ashamed to admit I’ve kissed a lot of women, and I can tell when there’s something more than physical attraction behind an embrace.

  I know when a kiss is based on lust, I know when it’s grudgingly given, and I know when love is part of the equation. I didn’t always know any of that, but I do now, and it’s why I took this insane chance to be closer to the incredible woman I’d somehow managed to catch the eye of.

  Made famous as the Goddess of Rock, Eden is every guy’s wet dream of a girlfriend. That figure, those lips, that sultry voice. Most men would kill for a chance to climb into her bed for the night. That’s not what I want. At least, it’s not the only thing I want.

  She’s not just gorgeous on the outside. She’s fun and kind and wild at heart. I want her to give me a chance to be with her, to show her the good time she desperately craves. I saw the way Hunter pinned her down. He’s a possessive asshole. He hurt her in too many ways to count.

  Guilt fills me when I think of that, of how angry I am about that fucking loser of a guy. I haven’t been a saint in the past. I’ve done my share of callous things to the women I charmed into bed. I didn’t see them as people. Not at the time. Not while I was selfishly making sure every last one of my own desires were being met. I was an asshole, dressed up as a free-spirit, a typical player, whatever you want to call it.

  I’m done with that lifestyle. I’ve been done with it for a long time.

  I look around the nightclub and wonder how quickly I could sell the one in L.A. Not that I’ll need to, but something tells me sticki
ng around here is going to be a lot better for my future happiness than flitting back and forth between this place and the City of Angels.

  I have tattoos to be finished so I suppose going back will be necessary, for a while. Once my sleeves are done, I am too. I pick my phone out of my pocket and send a text message to Eden’s best friend Skyler.

  I had Eden’s number before, but she changed it not long after she broke up with the possessive asshole. I don’t blame her. I’m sure Hunter’s doing her head in trying to beg and plead his way back into her arms. I would have rather told Eden about the new club myself, but Sky wasn’t the kind of girl to give out her friend’s details all willy-nilly as she put it, so I had no choice but to use her as a go-between. Here’s hoping she can convince Eden to come for a night out. Here’s hoping she’ll be happy to see me.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  *

  EDEN

  I get to the motel outside of town and I call Skyler. She doesn’t pick up, so I send her a message. She needs to pick up her bodyguard. He’s not welcome in my house anymore. She’ll probably take the message as a joke. Thinking he’s driving me insane with his protective bullshit. She won’t assume we slept together and now I’m trying to get him to leave.

  My heart hurts and I just want to crash out on a bed until I feel better. My best friend would make good company, but I know it would take Skyler hours to get here. She’s busy besides.

  I’m not ready to talk to Asher. I need to, but I’m too raw. Tomorrow maybe, or the next day.

  Sighing, I look at the motel and all of Logan’s safety warnings flash through my head. I should keep driving. Find somewhere that’s less likely to contain a Norman Bates.

  I know there’s nothing fancy nearby. I can’t stay in town. The B&B’s are all over the place, but it’ll cause too much of a stir amongst the locals if I do that. Especially if I walk in with mascara streaked cheeks. I don’t have a lot of make-up in my bag, but there’s enough to fix my face. When that’s done, I root around for chewing gum. My mouth is dry. My fingers brush something in the lining and I find myself poking at the seam. There’s a small tear. I manage to pull something that feels like a coin out. It’s not a coin. It’s a tracker. The smallest kind Logan has.

 

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