In the kitchen, she leaned against the counter and crossed her arms while he sat at the bar, spinning the folder on the counter a few times. He tapped it, then pushed it toward her.
“What?” She’d be damned if she made this easy for him. Whatever this was.
“You need to take a look at what’s in there,” he said in a low voice.
“Why?”
He looked at her from under his brow, a sympathetic look on his face. “Because if you’re going to get involved with Luke again, I think you should go in fully informed.”
“What does that mean?” she asked.
“He’s not the same guy you knew in college, Rowan.”
She glared at the folder, at Brett, and back at the folder. He made it sound like Luke had some dirty secret he was hiding.
She should tell him to get the hell out and take whatever it was with him. Instead, she inched toward it and gingerly opened it.
Her breath caught on a gasp.
Five pictures, in full Technicolor detail, of Luke. Kissing Laney Faith.
Laney’s hand gripped the back of his head and Luke’s hands rested on her hips.
“Where did these come from?”
“One of my friends is a photographer. We have a deal when it comes to pictures of my clients. He comes to me before releasing them when they might be…compromising.”
She recognized Laney’s outfit—the short skirt. These pictures were taken the night of the gala.
Luke had been uptight and nervous after he returned to their table from backstage. Later that night, he’d told her he loved her and she’d chalked it up to that.
“He loves you, Rowan,” Brett said. “A blind man can see that. But some men aren’t wired to be monogamous. I just wouldn’t feel right if you went into a new relationship with him thinking you were the only one.”
Nausea rolled in her stomach and she squeezed her eyes closed. “Get out.”
“Rowan—”
“Get. Out,” she said through gritted teeth.
She heard his clothes rustle. “For what it’s worth…I’m sorry.”
The front door opened and closed a few moments later. Her lip trembled and fat, hot tears rolled down her cheeks.
This.
This was exactly what she’d been afraid of. Now she understood what Michael had been talking about. She couldn’t give her whole heart to Luke knowing she only had a piece of his—no matter how big of a piece it was. Coming second to his music was one thing, but she wouldn’t compete with anyone else. She wouldn’t do it six years ago when they were in college and she sure as hell wouldn’t do it now.
Luke loved her—Brett was right about that and she knew it—but she had to be the only one in his life.
Leaving the pictures on the counter, she pushed away and went upstairs. She couldn’t be there when he got home.
* * *
Luke pushed through the door,juggling the bags of food. “I hope you’re good with bar-be-que,” he called out. “I tried to call but your phone was off.”
Shelby, not Rowan, sat at the kitchen counter.
He set the bags down and picked up the bottle of Johnny Walker Blue Label. It wasn’t like his sister to hit the hard stuff.
