“I saw the way you looked at her. It’sher, isn’t it?” Toria spits out the words like they’re poison.
When I proposed, I felt it was only fair to warn Toria of my limitations and what she was signing up to. I didn’t mention Sydney by name or tell her the full story, but Toria knows I’m incapable of loving her because my heart was torn apart as a teenager and there’s still a gaping Sydney-shaped hole in it. That’s not the only reason I’ll never love her, but there’s no point dwelling on it. The baby changed everything. I can’t shirk my responsibilities to her or my unborn child even if I look at that monstrosity on her ring finger and feel like throwing up.
This is not what I planned for my future, but such is life.
“Answer me!” she snaps as the driver turns the corner that leads to the five-star hotel we’re staying at.
Only the fact she’s pregnant with my kid holds my temper in check. “Yes, she’s the one.”
“She’s fat.” I don’t know if it’s a model thing or a Vittoria Russo thing, but she measures everyone by the sum of their looks. It’s her least endearing quality, and if I’d seen it when we first started hooking up, I would have tossed her to the curb without hesitation.
“She’s not, and what has that got to do with anything?” Sydney has the perfect body. Slim with curves in all the right places. The girl I loved and adored has grown into a stunningly beautiful woman with grace and confidence. Even though I still hate her for what she did to me, I can’t deny the pride I felt as she talked passionately and intelligently about the painting I bought.
“She needs understand place.”
“I don’t know why we’re discussing this. I haven’t seen her for ten years, Tor. She’s my past, and there was no need to rub the baby in her face.” I know that’s exactly why she said it.
“She thinks she better than me.”
I don’t respond to that because she wouldn’t like what I have to say. “We need to keep the news contained. I thought you were in agreement?”
“I am.” She glares at me before drinking from her bottle. “I want work long time. Felicia and Anna cannot know.” Felicia is her agent, and Anna is her booker. They won’t be pleased to discover their star new signing is knocked up even if the baby is mine.
“Don’t tell anyone else.” I warn her as the car pulls up to the private staff entrance of the hotel where Toria’s bodyguard waits to escort her to our suite.
“You won’t see her.” She drills me with a look. “I forbid.”
Toria is not my fucking keeper, and she can fuck off trying to tell me what to do. I’m biting my tongue nonstop around my pregnant girlfriend these days because most every word out of her mouth irritates the shit out of me. Grinding my teeth to the molars, I purposely ignore her and get out. After walking around the back of the car, I yank the door open almost pulling it off its hinges. “I will talk to you later,” I say through gritted teeth after handing her off to Tom.
Toria scowls, flipping me the bird as she stomps off with Tom flanking her.
Rubbing a tense spot between my brows, I slide into the back seat, pop my AirPods in, and settle in for the half-hour journey to the Unipol Arena where Linc and Wilder are waiting for me to rehearse.
My mind wanders to Sydney without permission. Pain tightens my chest as a host of memories floods my mind. I can still remember how she smelled—like wild berries and jasmine. How she tasted—sweet as honey. My hands twitch as I recall the feel of her silky soft skin under my fingertips. Blood rushes south as I mentally revisit the only time I was inside her. A shiver cascades over my skin. We were only kids, and I didn’t have a clue what I was doing, but it’s still the most intimate sexual experience of my life. My most precious memory.
Until her actions stomped all over it.
I rub at the pain in my chest, willing it to go away.
How could I look at her today and still want her after everything she did?
I don’t know. I don’t have any answers.
Maybe it’s time I asked for them.
* * *
“Dude, what the fuck?” Linc asks after we finish our rehearsal and sound check. We’re only performing one song tomorrow night, but that didn’t stop me from fucking up several times. “What was that?” he adds with a frown. Our bassist is right to question me. I’m normally solid, but that was my worst performance in years. Usually, music helps me to get out of my head, but nothing could blow the cobwebs of the past from my brain today.
“I’m sorry.” I drag a hand through my messy hair. “I’ve got a lot of shit on my mind. I’ll get it together before tomorrow.” I haven’t played as badly as that since I was a cocky teen who thought he knew it all.
“What’s going on? Trouble with Tor?” Wilder asks. Our lead singer and guitarist clamps a hand on my shoulder as we exit the stage, all of us nodding at the female artist who is up next.
Linc snorts. “That’s an oxymoron if I ever heard one.”
At one time, I’d bite his head off for his disrespectful comment. Maybe, if I’d listened to Linc, I wouldn’t be in this mess. He didn’t like her from day one. He was immediately suspicious of her motives, and he thought the arrangement was a bad idea.
“My past has returned to haunt me, and it’s fucking with my head,” I admit as we make our way through the busy backstage area, surrounded by our team of bodyguards. “I saw Sydney today,” I clarify when I spot their perplexed expressions.
