Consume

by Jessica Prince

  When I started away, his hand shot out and grabbed my elbow. “Thumbelina, I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “Spare me,” I snapped, spinning around on him and getting in his face. “You want to fuck your way through the entire female population of Washington, I’m not gonna stop you. You made it clear you didn’t want a commitment, and I never asked for one, so stop taking your shit out on me! Whatever’s screwing with your head is your own problem, not mine.”

  “You think I want to feel like this?” he barked. “You think I want you in my head all day every goddamn day? I’ve tried getting you out, believe me! But it was your goddamn face I saw every time I fucked another woman. Every fuckin’ time I closed my eyes it was you I was touching and tasting. I had to bite my lip to keep from shouting your name, for Christ’s sake!”

  I let out a caustic laugh. “You really expect me to believe that? Christ, Kill. You’ve been all over the papers for weeks! How many women were you photographed coming out of a bathroom or hotel with, huh? Six? Seven? You didn’t fuck them all because of me. You did it because that’s all any woman is to you: a warm, willing body you can you can use however you like when you get bored.”

  Wrenching my arm from his grasp, I took a step back and spoke one last time. “Act however you want, but I am not quitting this job.”

  With that, I turned and stomped off, barely giving myself time to register the contrite look on his face as I made my escape.

  Screw him for making me want him and despise him all at the same time.

  It was six in the evening by the time we boarded the plane back to Seattle, and thanks to the emotional minefield I was constantly tiptoeing through when it came to Killian, I was dragging so bad even my bones were tired.

  As I made my way down the aisle, I kept telling myself that I wouldn’t look in his direction. I wouldn’t. But as I passed Killian’s row my traitorous eyes turned his was.

  He offered me a hesitant, apologetic smile and moved his carry-on bag from the seat beside him in an offer to me. Fortunately Marco called my name from the back of the plane before I was forced to turn Killian down. There was no missing the crestfallen expression on his face as I passed him by, and for some crazy reason, my heart clenched painfully at the sight of it.

  Pushing that to the very back of my mind, I offered Marco a tired grin as I took the empty seat next to his.

  He looked different now. His expensive suit was gone, in its place a pair of faded jeans, worn boots, and a red T-shirt. He was dressed for comfort now, not work, and even though Marco could wear a suit like he was born to it, he was no less attractive in everyday street clothes.

  “You look beat,” he said in a soft, kind voice.

  I giggled and sat back with a heavy sigh. “I feel it. I can’t wait to get home to my own bed.”

  “Not big on traveling, huh?”

  “I’m just not used to it,” I admitted. Drawing my legs up, I wrapped my arms around them and rested my cheek on my knees. “I’ve only ever flown a couple of times, and that was back when I was really little. I barely remember those trips.”

  “So your family lives close, then?”

  The same sadness I felt each and every time I thought about my mom reared its ugly head. “It’s just me and my mom. She’s in Seattle too.”

  He looked at me with curiosity, and I knew exactly what question as coming next. “What about your dad?”

  “He’s been out of the picture for longer than I can remember.”

  Marco’s hand came down on my calf, squeezing comfortingly. “I’m sorry, bomboncita.” I wasn’t sure what that word meant, but it sounded lovely passing his lips.

  “It’s all right.” I shrugged. “I never really felt like I was missing out on anything. I had my mother, and she was enough for me.”

  I realized my mistake when his eyes flashed with sympathy, and he stated, “You’re speaking in past tense. Did you lose her, sweetheart?”

  I wasn’t sure what it was about him that made me want to open up and talk about something I never talked about. I could see it in his eyes—he wasn’t putting on an act to try and get in my pants, or sweet-talking just for the sake of it. My gut told me that Marco was a genuinely good guy, and I’d been around more than my fair share of bad ones to know to trust my gut when it spoke.

  “Not in the way you think. She’s… sick,” I managed to get out.

  “That’s okay, bomboncita. We don’t have to talk about it. Just know, if you ever need an ear, I’m here to listen.”

  I heaved a relieved sigh and smiled. “Thanks.”

  A teasing light glinted in his gold-flecked eyes. “Well, at least until Killian gets my ass fired.”

  “Oh God,” I groaned, lifting my head and covering my face with my hands. “I’m so sorry about earlier. He had no right—”

  His rich chuckle cut me off. “That’s okay too, Gina. Pretty sure I get why he went off, and I can’t hold it against him. He’s just a man, after all.”

  Turning my gaze to the front of the plane, I stared at the back of Killian’s head and glared. “He’s an asshole.”

  Marco laughed again as I tried my best to burn a hole in Killian’s skull with my eyes. Why did he have to turn me inside out? After the hurt and shock of our earlier fight lessened, I remembered what he’d said about not being able to get me out of his head, and while I despised his methods of trying to go about remedying that, I couldn’t say I didn’t get it. I did. And despite all the hell he was putting me through, the damn man still plagued my every thought.

  “Asshole or not, I kinda pity the bastard.”

  My eyes shot back to Marco, and my brow furrowed. “Why?”

  “He’s hung up on you. I get it. I’ve only talked to you a handful of minutes, and I can tell you now, you give me the green light to make my move, bomboncita, and I’m damn sure gonna take it.”

  My mouth dropped open, and all I could think was What the hell am I supposed to do with that?

  Chapter Ten

  Killian

  I’d always thought Marco was a decent enough guy. We weren’t the best of friends or anything like that, but he’d been with us for a few years, and I’d grown to respect him.

  Until now.

  Now he was moving in on Gina, and I wanted to beat his ass into the dirt. Every time her laugh carried from the back of the plane, I ground my teeth so hard I was surprised my molars hadn’t flattened. I didn’t have the first goddamn clue what they were talking about, but was it really necessary for him to make her laugh so damn much? I’d known the guy for years. He wasn’t that funny.

  When the plane finally touched down in Seattle an eternity later, I stayed planted in my seat as everyone else disembarked, waiting for Gina and that asshole to reach my row before I stood.

  Gina glanced my way as I hooked my carry-on over my shoulder, then quickly diverted her gaze the instant she noticed me staring back at her. I could still recall the stricken look on her face when I’d put my foot in my mouth and told her that wanting her was a mistake. I’d remember that look with perfect clarity for years to come, and each time I thought of it, I knew it would gut me just as painfully as it had the first time. I hated myself for hurting her just because I was conflicted about what I wanted. She was right, I was an asshole for taking my fucked-up shit out on her. But no matter how hard I tried to control myself around her, I just couldn’t help it.

  The two of them continued talking like I wasn’t right behind them as we exited the plane and moved to where our luggage was being unloaded.

  “You got a ride back to your place?” I heard Marco ask.

  “I was just gonna call a cab.”

  “You don’t need to do that. I can—”

  Before the bastard could finish his sentence, I jumped in. “I got her.”

  They both turned to look at me. Marco’s jaw ticked with irritation while Gina’s expression grew panicked.

  “That’s not necessary,” Marco replied. “I can take her—”<
br />
  I shot him a look that spoke to just how bad I’d murder him if he didn’t shut the hell up. “Don’t you have to debrief with Ian, or whatever it is you guys do to make sure one of us doesn’t get shanked by a psycho fan?”

  “Seriously, I’ll just take a cab,” Gina blurted. “It’s not a big deal.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Reaching out, I grabbed the handle of her suitcase and pulled it from her grip. “Besides, we need to go over the tour schedule.”

  She looked like she wanted to argue, but knew she couldn’t when I threw the scheduling shit at her. Marco, on the other hand, looked like he wanted to put his fist through my face. Sucks to be him, I thought as I shot him a smug grin.

  “Let’s hit the road. I’m fuckin’ beat.” I took her hand and started leading her away before that son of a bitch could say anything else.

  Gina

  I walked in silent perplexity, gawking down at my hand wrapped in Kill’s as he guided me off the private airstrip toward the parking lot. The heat in my palm traveled up my arm and into my chest.

  The smart thing to do would have been to pull away, but the warmth building behind my ribs created a pleasant melty feeling I wasn’t ready to lose quite yet.

  When he stopped me at the bed of a shiny black pickup, I couldn’t contain my surprise. “Wow. I have to say, this isn’t what I expected you to drive.”

  He dropped my ratty old suitcase into the back of the truck and smiled at me. “What was it you were expecting?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered with a shrug. “Maybe a Ferrari or something equally douchey?”

  His rough, velvety chuckle made my belly flutter. “Hate to break it to you, Thumbelina, but I don’t own a Ferrari.”

  “How disappointing,” I muttered unable to stop the grin from pulling at my lips.

  Moving to the passenger door, he pulled it open and said, “I do have a Maybach, if that makes you feel any better.”

  I let my head fall back on a laugh. “Of course you do.” When I righted it and looked back at him, he was watching me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. He stood motionless until I finally said his name, visibly shaking himself out of whatever stupor he’d fallen into before finally opening my door.

  “You gonna be able to get up on your own, sweetness?” he teased when I reached for the handle on the doorframe.

  Scowling over my shoulder as I attempted—and failed—to boost myself into the passenger seat, I chided, “It’s not my fault you had to overcompensate with this monster truck. Couldn’t you have gotten a normal-sized car?”

  “First of all, there isn’t anything wrong with my truck. You’re just tiny. And second….” He moved so close his chest brushed against my back as he leaned in and whispered, “You know for a fact that I’ve got nothin’ to overcompensate for.”

  At his gruff voice, my nipples pebbled into tight little peaks at the same time a tremble worked its way up from my knees straight to the apex of my thighs. He wasn’t wrong. I knew exactly what he had, and it was more impressive than anything I’d had before.

  “Up you go,” he stated, circling my waist with his massive hands and pulling me from my haze. He lifted me into the seat like I was light as a feather, and when I turned to thank him, my breath caught in my throat. Killian’s eyes were flashing with a fire I was all too familiar with.

  “Uh, thanks,” I whispered. “I can get it from here.” His hands remained firmly on my waist. “Kill?”

  “Right. Sorry.” Letting go, he took a quick step back and closed me in the truck. I attempted to pull in a deep breath to calm myself, but the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the cab filled my lungs and thrust my mind back to the night of the wedding when I breathed him in as deeply as I could while he buried himself inside me. I could remember thinking that it was the most intoxicating thing I’d ever smelled, and that hadn’t changed a bit in the time that had passed since that night.

  “You okay?” he asked after climbing into the driver seat.

  I forced my eyes open and the memories to the back of my mind. “Yeah,” I lied. Truth was, I didn’t know if I’d ever be okay where Killian was concerned. There were too many tumultuous feelings rolling around inside me to ignore. “Just tired.”

  Shifting in his seat, he pulled his cell out of his back pocket and extended it my way. “Put your address in the GPS. Then you can lie back and rest while I drive.”

  I took the phone in confusion. “But I thought you wanted to go over the schedule?”

  A few seconds later, he murmured softly, “We’ll do that some other time. For now, you sleep.”

  After the scene between us earlier that day, I never would’ve thought it possible to be comfortable enough around Killian to actually let my guard down and fall asleep, but I was wrong. I drifted off almost the second my eyes closed, and I was out until his gravelly, furious bark of “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ shitting me” jolted me awake.

  I blinked rapidly to clear my eyes of the sleep that was currently blurring my vision. “What’s wrong?” I yawned, looking from my apartment building back to Killian.

  The muscle in his jaw ticked as he ground his teeth together. “Please tell me this is some kinda joke, and you don’t actually fuckin’ live here.”

  I looked back to the ramshackle building with its peeling paint and rotted clapboard, and a wave of embarrassment washed over me. I’d been too discombobulated and exhausted on the trip home to stop and consider just where it was Killian was taking me.

  Even in the dark I could see how shitty the complex was. That telltale flush crawled up my neck and jaw, and I wanted nothing more than to get far away from him and the disgust on his face. Clutching my purse to my chest, I scrambled for the door handle. “Well, thanks for the ride. I’ll see you—wait. What are you doing?”

  Kill shut off the engine and threw his door open. “I’m walking you up. No goddamn way I’m letting you walk through this parking lot alone. Christ only knows how many of your neighbors are criminals.”

  I jumped out and rushed around the truck, meeting him at the tailgate. “You don’t need to do that,” I insisted, reaching for the handle of my suitcase. “I promise, it’s perfectly safe here.”

  At that precise moment, the music that had been coming from the unit three doors from mine grew to a deafening level when the door burst open and several drunken people came stumbling out as the apparent fight that started inside bled out into the breezeway.

  He gave me a look and tugged on the handle. “You wanna keep lying to my face or let me walk you to your door?”

  Knowing I’d lost this round, I relented and let him take my bag. I led the way to the stairwell opposite of the ongoing brawl.

  “First you’re sittin’ in the middle of a bar working on a budget, now this,” he grumbled behind me the whole way up. “When I saw your shitty luggage, I thought maybe it held some sentimental value or something. Now I know that’s not the case. So I gotta ask, sweetness… what the fuck?”

  We hit the landing, and I ignored his question as I dug in my purse for my keys. “Okay, as you can see, I’m safely at my door. You can go now.”

  Instead of doing as ordered, he glowered, snatched the keys from my hand, and unlocked the door, pushing it open slowly as if it might break right off the hinges. “Jesus Christ, you don’t even have a whole goddamn apartment!”

  Closing the door behind me, I propped my hands on my hips and scowled hatefully. “If you’re done insulting my home, you can go. I need a shower and sleep, neither one of those I’m willing to do with you here.”

  He crossed his arms and planted his feet wide, clearly setting up for another argument. “Not ’til you answer some questions. I know exactly how much the band pays you, Gina. So why the hell are you living in a shithole like this, and dragging around a suitcase that’s made of more duct tape than anything else? You in some kinda trouble?”

  “For crying out loud,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. “
No, I’m not in any kind of trouble. I just have other expenses that are more important than paying out the ass for rent, okay?”

  He was like a dog with a bone, refusing to budge. “What expenses?”

  “Ones that are none of your business.”

  Sauntering over to my love seat, he sat down like he owned the place, spreading his arms wide over the back. “Might as well hop in the shower, sweetness, ’cause I’m not goin’ anywhere until you start talkin’.”

  God, he was such a jerk. “My mom’s sick, okay? Her medical bills take precedence over material bullshit. Now you know. Happy?”

  That recognizable sympathy I’d grown to hate so much spread over his features as he stood and headed in my direction. “Oh, baby—”

  “No!” I snapped, holding my hands up to ward him off, anger and shame causing them to shake. “Don’t do that. Don’t pity me. I’m doing just fine. I don’t need anyone’s sympathy.”

  “Gina, that’s not—”

  “Please,” I pleaded on a jagged whisper. “Please, just go. I can’t fight with you again, Kill. The last one took what little I had left right out of me. Just… please.”

  His expression told me just how badly he wanted to push the subject, but thankfully he didn’t. He gave me a slow, resigned nod and came closer. Before I had a chance to ask what he was doing, he placed his fingers beneath my chin and tilted my face up.

  The soft kiss he pressed against my lips cut me right to the quick.

  Once he was gone, all the energy drained from my body. I didn’t bother with a shower. Instead, I collapsed onto my bed fully clothed and fell asleep with Killian’s kiss burning my lips.

  Chapter Eleven

  Gina

  Over the next few days, Killian and I entered into a weird kind of stalemate. We hadn’t become friends or anything, but the constant battling had been put on pause. I could only assume it was because he felt bad for me, and if I were being honest, I would’ve rather gone back to our regularly scheduled fights than have him feel sorry for me.