by K. A. Linde
Miller tightly grabbed my shoulder in his hand. “Bro, you sure?”
He nodded his head to the left, and I followed his gaze. I gaped in shock at seeing Ari standing backstage at The Drift show.
What the fuck was she doing here? Did she know the band had driven up here? Had she followed me under the pretenses of seeing her father?
No, I knew she had this dinner with her dad. She couldn’t have known about this show.
Maybe she wasn’t here to see me. Maybe she didn’t even know I was here. Maybe she was here for Donovan.
The rational side of my brain fled the building. If Ari wasn’t here for me, then what the fuck was she doing here?
All I knew was I was going to find out.
I stalked across the room. Ari shifted as if already sensing my eyes on her. Her mouth dropped open in shock, only confirming my belief that she hadn’t even fucking known I was going to be here. My hackles rose, and I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling of betrayal. Ever since she had told me she’d kissed someone else while we were apart, I’d had a hard time disconnecting.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded without thinking.
Ari’s defenses immediately went up. “What am I doing here? What are you doing here?”
“Don’t make this about me. You didn’t even know I was here. Were you here for someone else?”
Her mouth dropped open in shock, and then her hurricane-blue eyes stormed over. “How dare you! You’re the one hiding your location and the reason you’re here, yet you’re accusing me of coming here to see someone else. Have you lost your mind?”
“Technically, you are here with someone else,” a guy said from behind her.
I hadn’t even fucking noticed him. I definitely hadn’t thought he was with Ari. He was in a suit and looked like a trussed-up preppy douche bag. Then again, Ari was in a pretty hot black dress. It made me want to simultaneously rip it off of her and demand to know why she would wear it for some other asshole.
“Stay out of this,” Ari snapped at the guy.
“Who the hell is this guy?” I demanded.
She deflated under the question, which set my blood from simmer to high.
“This is Henry,” she murmured softly and then kept speaking in a rush, “I had no idea he was going to be here tonight. My father invited him. I didn’t even know he was in the city. This isn’t what it looks like.”
I saw red. “You’re here with the douche you kissed when we were split up.”
“You didn’t say you were split up,” Henry accused.
“Henry!” she snapped.
“And you never even told him?” I asked.
“Stop. Just stop!” She ran a shaky hand back through her hair, which was when I saw the glittering diamond on her finger.
“What the fuck is that?” I pointed at her hand in shock.
“What?” she cried, exasperated.
“Is that a fucking engagement ring?”
Ari looked down at the ring on her finger and then groaned. “No! Oh my God! I can’t believe you would even think that.”
“What am I supposed to think when you show up here with him and are now wearing a diamond?” I was about to combust.
“I don’t know. Maybe trust me! This is from my father! It’s a birthday present! It was my mother’s original engagement ring. He wanted me to have it. Jesus!”
I shook my head. I was a little thrown off. Ari had fucking parents who gave her family heirlooms. Not to mention, it was a bigger rock than anything I’d ever be able to afford for her. How was I supposed to compete with that shit?
“And you don’t find it suspicious that your dad would give you something like this around the fucking dude he’s weirdly trying to hook you up with?”
“It was a birthday present! This is not about Henry. This is about you being here. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to the concert? Did you sign? Is that what this is about?”
“I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d freak. I had to figure out what we’re doing, what’s right for the band. I can’t do that with you in my goddamn head.”
“I don’t even know what that means!”
“It means, if I want to sign, I don’t want to deal with your judgment.”
Her mouth dropped open. “I don’t judge your music! I’ve been completely encouraging.”
“Keep telling yourself that, Princess.”
Her lips drew into a thin line, and she looked as if she might rear back and punch me. Maybe I deserved it, but if she thought she wasn’t judgmental, then she was delusional. She hated the lifestyle—the groupies, drugs, booze, sex. She hated the other bands. She hated the thought that we would be on tour with our vices. She hated it all.
Until that moment, I didn’t realize how true that really was…and how much it pissed me the fuck off.
“Fine. Fine!” she spat. “I’m not going to stand around and argue with you. If you want to believe the worst about me, then fine, Grant. It’s much easier to assume I wouldn’t want you to be here, signing, then to simply ask me.”
“I don’t have to ask you. I see it on your face.”
“I thought we already talked about all of this! You know what? Forget it. You’ve made it clear the business side of the music industry isn’t something you want to talk to me about. Obviously, you’ll be the only one affected by the changes, so it’s not important to discuss them with me.” She held up her hand. “I’m going to go. When you figure it out, come talk to me.”
She turned on her heel and walked toward the door. I stared after her retreating back with a mixed bag of emotions eating away at me. On one hand, I wanted to rush after her and tell her she wasn’t allowed to fucking walk away from me. On the other hand, I just wanted her to be gone. As she walked away from me, her judgment weighed heavily in the air.
“Thanks, man,” Henry said with a nod of his head in my direction.
“What?”
“I couldn’t have asked for a better performance.”
I glared at him. “Get the fuck out of here.”
Henry laughed at me before following Ari out the stage door.
My stomach sank as soon as they were gone. I’d let her walk out. He’d gone with her. It was as if I’d been pitched headfirst into an ice bath. I’d pushed her away…right into the arms of someone else. What the fuck was wrong with me? Why did she drive me up the wall?
Everything was either fiery passion or icy-cold arguments. Either way, I couldn’t get my head on straight around her.
“Bro, what just happened?” Miller asked, appearing at my side.
“Honestly, I’ve no fucking clue.”
“Why did she leave? You fuck up?”
I nodded. “I…”
I tried to process.
“She was here with the guy who she kissed over break, and I fucking lost it. It’s as if she’s got this goddamn vise grip on my brain, so it stops functioning when she’s around.”
“Because you love her, dipshit,” Miller said as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.
“Fuck. Fuck!” I cried. “She can’t be with him.”
“Then, what are you still doing here?” Miller shoved me forward. “Go after her.”
I was running through the backstage area as soon as Miller finished his sentence. My feet pounded on the carpeted floor, out the lobby, and onto the sidewalk. I thrust my hand out into traffic to catch a passing cab with only one thought on my mind.
I have to fix this.
I have to fix this.
I have to fix this.
That motherfucker.
I couldn’t believe he had come all the way out here without saying one word to me beforehand. I couldn’t believe he had hidden the fact that Pacific was trying to sign them. I couldn’t believe he had called me judgmental. He hadn’t even asked my opinion on it. He was too chickenshit to even find out.
I had finally confessed about kissing Henry. I’d thought everything was out in the open, but
he’d been holding back.
What did all of this say about us? Were we too fucked up to have a realistic relationship? Was I blinded by the fact that I loved him?
I felt deluded by how desperately I wanted to be with him. It shouldn’t be this hard. It shouldn’t hurt this bad. It shouldn’t feel as if he had just punched me in the gut when I could see in his face that all he’d wanted to do was hold me close.
My world had always been ruled by logic, but Grant had pushed all logic aside. In its place had grown this inexplicable fear.
Fear of losing him.
Fear of losing myself.
Fear of it all crashing down.
Fear of it not being worth it.
I was so mad at him—for everything. But I was equally mad at myself.
I slammed my finger on the elevator button and ignored the hulking presence behind me. I hadn’t even fought Henry about the cab on the way back to the hotel. Grant hadn’t tried to stop me or come after me, so what would it matter if someone else got me back to my hotel?
We stepped into the elevator, and I pressed the button for the top floor. My father had gotten me a suite, and all I could think about was tumbling headfirst into the king-sized bed and burying my heartache under a mound of pillows.
The elevator opened up onto my floor, and I found my suite number. Sliding the key card into the door, I turned the handle, flipped on the lights, and walked into the room. Henry followed right behind me inside my suite.
“What are you doing?” I demanded.
He gave me this little smile, and I had no idea what it meant, but I was sure I wasn’t going to like it. Then, he pushed past me, heading further into the hotel room and going straight toward the phone.
“Henry?”
He held the phone to his ear. “Calling for a bottle of champagne—unless you’d like something stronger?”
My mouth dropped open. “No. I don’t want anything. I want you to leave, so I can go to sleep.”
“You can’t sleep in your condition,” he said matter-of-factly, entirely ignoring the rest of my statement. “You need to wind down and relax.” He dialed the number for room service. “Yes, would you send up your best bottle of champagne and a glass of Johnnie Walker Blue?”
“Scotch and champagne?” I asked indignantly. This was not what I needed when I was pissed about Grant.
“We are celebrating, aren’t we?”
As if that was the reason he wanted me to drink.
“No. I don’t feel like celebrating.”
He sat down on the plush black leather couch in the living room and crossed his leg at the ankle. He ran one hand back through his messy dark blond hair before responding, “Then, we’ll just drink. You can close the door. Room service will knock.”
I turned away from him as I wavered with indecision. I was mad and frustrated, but my anger wasn’t directed at Henry.
I was mad at Grant. Henry was collateral damage in all of this. He was a reminder of the lengths my family would go to keep me on the straight and narrow. Even though Grant and I were…complicated, I still had no intention of making things worse by hooking up with Henry. The thought alone made my stomach turn.
With Grant…I always knew that, one day, he would get signed. ContraBand was on the rise. It made sense to me that they would try to secure a recording contract. None of this had come out of left field for me. I just hadn’t anticipated that he would sneak around behind my back about an offer.
My eyes found Henry’s blue ones once more.
Oh, right.
Henry had been my secret, one that completely fit into my perfect life where I never had to keep secrets.
While Grant was very talented and was going to be very successful, it would be doing something my parents would never approve of.
The whole thing gave me a headache. Sleep was sounding more and more inviting.
“Aribel,” Henry said softly, “it’s just a drink.”
I sighed. “Fine. One drink.”
I shrugged out of my coat and threw it on the back of the couch.
A couple of minutes later, room service arrived with the drinks. The guy popped the top off the bottle for us, poured two glasses, and then left after Henry handed him a crisp twenty-dollar bill. I took a sip of my drink and tried to let the bubbles soothe my temper, but it really wasn’t doing that great of a job. Anyway, I didn’t even want to be drinking. I wanted to be sleeping away the anger, so in the morning, I could think clearly about what to do.
Henry downed his glass of scotch before I’d even gotten through half of my first glass of champagne. He reached for his champagne and finished that, too.
Classical music came through the surround-sound system, and my head popped up in surprise.
Henry smiled down at me and held his hand out. “Dance?” he offered.
“No, thank you.”
“Oh, come on,” he said, taking my hand that I hadn’t offered and pulling me off the sofa.
He twirled me in place as if he’d had years of formal ballroom training, which I supposed he probably had. Then, he tugged me against him, all to the time of the music.
I squirmed and tried to pull away. “Really, I don’t feel like dancing. Just stop.”
“But you’re so good at it.” His head dipped down into the crook of my neck and nuzzled the soft skin.
“Henry!” I cried. “Stop it.”
I tried to get away from him, but he had me locked in a tight embrace. His right arm wrapped around my back, and his left hand clasped mine in a death grip. His right hand traveled to my ass, and he pulled back to look at me with a dirty gleam in his eye.
“Come on, Princess.”
“Get away from me.” I wrenched out of his embrace. I couldn’t believe he had used Grant’s nickname. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“I was just helping you relax.” He gave me the sweetest smile he could muster up, and still, it didn’t hide the snake.
“I think our definitions of relaxing are different.”
“You’re in a bad place right now. You need someone to be here for you. I want to be that person, Aribel. That idiot can’t take care of you. He can’t even seem to appreciate what’s right in front of his face. Just let me stay the night.”
I rolled my eyes. What a crock of shit.
“I don’t need anyone to take care of me—least of all you. So, you can turn around right now and get out of my hotel room. I might be angry, but I’m not an idiot.”
“You’d have to be an idiot to want to be with me?”
“Yes! You just tried to sexually assault me! Now, get out!” I stormed across the room and jerked open the hotel door. “You’ve overstayed your welcome. In fact, you were never really welcome. And if you don’t leave, I’ll have security escort you out!”
By the time I pulled up the GPS on my phone to find out where the fuck Ari’s hotel was, the cab had already driven me five blocks in the opposite direction. He had claimed to know where we were going. It had taken everything in me not to punch him in the back of the head for his stupidity and get in another cab. All I wanted to do was get to Ari and talk to her like a civil human being. I couldn’t ever manage that shit when it mattered.
I couldn’t stop running through what I was going to do once I got there. Find her, apologize, fuck her. Things would get better.
She needed to know I trusted her, that I wanted to tell her about these things. I’d just freaked the fuck out at the thought of leaving her. If I signed, then we’d be on tour, no doubt about it. Hollis would ship us out with some shithole band, and then who knew when I’d see her next? I didn’t want to have to face that before I was ready. I didn’t want Ari to have to face it at all. She deserved better.
But that didn’t mean that douche bag Henry could have her.
I hadn’t understood what he was saying when he thanked me. I’d been so pissed off at everything that was going on that I hadn’t realized he was thanking me for sending Ari straigh
t into his arms. I’d never let that happen, not if I could help it.
I jotted out a text to Ari, letting her know I was on the way.
Coming to The Kimberly. Please meet me downstairs. We need to talk.
The cab stopped outside of The Kimberly. As soon as I paid the fare, I jumped out of the car and into the drizzle that had started on my way over here. I ducked under the overhang, and the doorman pulled the door open for me.
“Hey, man. Did you see a girl walk in here? Blonde about yea-tall,” I said, holding my hand up to my shoulder, “in a nice black dress and jacket. I don’t know. Maybe ten minutes ago?”
“Sure, I saw her. She was here with a man in a suit,” the doorman offered.
He was warily eyeing me, and I realized I probably looked like shit compared to the normal clientele at this place.
“Yes. Most likely. Did you see where she went?”
“Last I saw, she went up in the elevator with the gentleman she was with.”
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Fucking fuck.
My first instinct was to ram my hand into the side of the brick building. Pain exploded through my arm, and I cursed loudly.
“Sir, are you all right?” the doorman asked. He looked as if he wanted to find out what the hell my problem was and force me to leave, but instead, he stared at me as if I were some strange specimen.
My knuckles were throbbing, and it looked as if I’d broken the skin. I shook out my hand, trying to ignore the pain. The real issue here was that Ari had gone upstairs with Henry.
Upstairs to her hotel room.
With Henry.
My brain wasn’t wrapping itself around the concept. What the fuck? She had said they had kissed over break, but that he meant nothing to her. Now, he was here in New York. It all seemed so…coincidental. Too coincidental.
She wouldn’t cheat on me. She wouldn’t fucking do that to me. I needed to talk to her. I needed to hear it out of her mouth that she wasn’t fucking some dude in an expensive-ass hotel room to forget about me.
I fumbled with my phone and went back out under the awning. She hadn’t responded to the text message I sent earlier. I clicked her number and hugged the phone to my ear. It rang three times before going to voice mail.