Sully lets out a low, frustrated breath. “Gigi doesn’t control me. Amy doesn’t either. Last night at the award show...it was a setup. They’ve been trying to pull this shit for a while. I’m the only single one in the band, and they think that makes me easy to manipulate. Like some kind of trophy to parade around.”
My heart stutters.
“She kissed me without permission, Veronica. I didn’t want it. I pulled away the second it happened. But Gigi and Amy—they’re playing a different game. Gigi wants some hot bass player on her arm to boost her image for the tour. Candy for the cameras. And Amy...” His voice darkens. “Amy’s on a power trip. She thinks managing us gives her the right to manage everything. Even our personal lives and with everyone else being married…she’s hooked her sights on me.”
I stay silent, my mind racing to keep up with the new version of events.
“I’m easy-going, yeah. Always have been. But people take advantage of that.” He pauses, voice raw. “I don’t want anything to do with Gigi, or her power-hungry bullshit. I just want you.”
The air leaves my lungs.
I glance at the signed Scarlet Failure setlist taped to my bedroom wall next to the mirror. It’s now or never. Do I throw whatever is betweenus to the wind and watch the ashes scatter, or do I play Russian roulette with my heart one last round and pray it doesn’t explode in my chest?
I remember the way Sully’s hands moved over me—slow, deliberate, like he was learning a song he never wanted to forget. His mouth on mine. The weight of his body against me. In those moments, everything else disappeared. No stage lights. No lies. Just us, tangled in something too intense to name.
“One date,” I say, collapsing onto my bed and staring up at the ceiling, my heart beating too loud in the quiet room.
“Is tonight too soon?” His voice is full of glee, and I can’t help but smile.
“Please. One last date. Then if you don’t want to see me again, I’ll respect your wishes.” His voice is rough, thick with grief. If I close my eyes, I can picture his perfect lips pouting and the frown lines on his forehead.
I turn over, kicking my legs behind me. “I’m off, so tonight works.”
“Wunderbar! I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear comfortable shoes.”
The line clicks before I can ask why.
“God, I hope he doesn’t want us to hike.” I sigh and pinch my nose before checking my messages with Alice. She hasn’t replied.
To keep my mind off Alice—and to stop myself from spiraling into a depression—I head down to the pool and slip into the water. I spend the afternoon pushing my body through mermaid training drills, swimming lap after lap until my muscles ache and the sting of worry fades into the rhythm of movement. It’s easier to lose myself in the water than face the knot tightening in my chest. Before I know it, the sun dips low, and it’s time to get ready for what might be the last night I ever spend with Sully.
32
Sullypicksmeupat seven sharp. He’s wearing black skinny jeans with a red and black plaid long-sleeve shirt. He eyes my silky pink top with white polka dots when I slide into the passenger seat. “You might want to grab a jacket.”
I wipe my palms against my jeans, enjoying the friction. “We’re in LA. I don’t think there’s snow for—”
“We’re not going to the mountains, or I’d question your shoes.” His thumbs drum against the steering wheel. I glance down at my flats but let the comment go. He adds, “Let’s just say the air conditioning can be chilly where we’re going.”
“Okay, I’ll trust you.” I jog back inside to grab my gray jacket from my closet and return to sit beside him. “Better?”
“Yes. You hungry?”
“What do you have in mind?” Since my fight with Alice, who still hasn’t responded, I forgot to eat. All I had today was coffee. No wonder my stomach is turning on itself.
He changes lanes. We’re driving toward the beach, and traffic picks up. “There’s food where we’re going, don’t worry.”
Part of me wants to pepper him with questions, but I don’t have the energy. Sully pulls into a parking garage, and I catch the name. We’re going to the local aquarium.
“Aren’t they closed today?” I ask, checking the hours on my phone.
He waves at me, forcing my phone away. “Don’t look at that.”
Sully hands the parking agent folded cash, and we’re in with a parking tag hanging on the rearview mirror.
We find a spot on the third level near the elevator. Sully kills the engine and turns toward me, holding a silky blue blindfold. “I want this to be perfect. Can you put this on?”
My mouth goes dry. I want to say a kinky joke, but my throat closes. All I can do is nod, accepting the blindfold and placing it over my eyes. Sully ties it.
