Maybe she was using me, but now that I know she might be playing a game, I know better than to look too deeply into any of this. That was the best fuck I’ve had in a while, and if she lets me have her again, I’ll take what I need from her and move on.
It’s not like I ever thought we could have a future anyway.
Chapter Nine:
Miracle
Alaina
As happy as I am for Brooke, I also want to strangle her. Ihadhim. He wanted me to stay, it wasn’t just a hookup. I had him. And we were in the middle of a conversation that would’ve directly led to me telling him the truth, too. He was asking questions. I just took too fucking long.
So while Brooke rides a cloud and tells me the dirty details over and over again, I plot. There are only two shows left, and while I’ll have one more chance to see him in person at the meet and greet dinnerbefore the last show, there will be other people there.
I need to get him alone again.
If I manage to snag another invite to an after party, great. But if I don’t? I know what to do, even if it makes me uneasy.
I need to break into his trailer again and actually stay until he shows up. Yes, he’s going to think it’s fucking creepy for a minute, but he’ll get over it. We only met in the first place because I broke into his treehouse. It’s almost fitting that a break-in will be the thing that brings us back together.
He’ll see that, won’t he?
He has to.
Chapter Ten:
Gravity
Bash
Whatever the hell Jonah is saying fades to the background as the notification for movement in my trailer goes off. I was positive it was one of them who broke in last time, but now that I’m staring at every member of my band while someone is currently moving around my private space, I know none of them were lying.
I should call Darius or check the feed to see who it is, but without thinking, I sprint out of Yasmin’s trailer and rush over to mine.
Whoever it is wants to fuck with me, so I need to catch them by surprise and make them regret the second they decided toimitate my ghost. The fact that people are so fucked up has me angrier with every single step. By the time I’m yanking the door open, my body is already in fight mode, but when I see who it is everything goes numb.
It’s her. Not the ghost from my childhood, but the one I allowed to seep under my skin and play me like a fucking fool.
She looks like a deer in the headlights as she sets the same snacks down as last time, and I force myself not to think about how good she looks with my marks on her neck. I can’t.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
My voice sounds colder than it ever has before, and I know she hears it. Her face falls, her little hands ball into fists, but she stands tall.
“I wanted to talk to you. Say sorry for rushing out last night and maybe finish the conversation we were having.”
I turn my gaze away with a huff, because I can’t even look at her right now. “The conversation where I was about to fuck you in my producer’s kitchen? Yeah, I was hoping we’d finish that conversation,too. You could have just said that though, so why the theatrics?”
I motion toward the junk food that feels more like a betrayal than anything, watching her face as she scrambles for an answer. I know what she’s going to say before she says it.
“Bash, it was me. In the treehouse in Blackridge, it was me. I startled you when I climbed up the ladder the first time and asked if you were a ghost. My ribs were broken and I begged you not to tell anyone you saw me. It was me.”
And there it is.
Sighing, I give myself five seconds to mourn what could have been and then slip back on the mask I need to stop trying to remove.
“Yeah, you and about fifty other girls in my DM’s,” I quip, closing the distance between us a little more. “The difference between you and them is you’ve already had me. It wasn’t enough, huh?”
”I didn’t want it to be like that, it shouldn’t have happened like this. I — fuck. You really don’t believe me.”
