“Yeah, sure. Where have you been all this time?”
I’m directly in front of her now, towering over her as she flinches.
People telling the truth don’t flinch.
“We moved away, like we always did. When I was fifteen, my parents were finally arrested and I was thrown into foster care. I had nothing to go on but a nickname, do you know how long it took me to find you?”
“How long?”
I’ve been making music since I was seventeen, and in the public eye not too long after that, so I’d love to know why she never came forward until after that interview.
Huffing, she shakes her head. “To be sure it was you and not some other Bash? A while. And even once I figured it out, I didn't think there was any way you’d remember me or even care. Then I saw the interview.”
“The famous interview,” I deadpan. “I was a little high when I did that so I don’t remember everything I said.“
It’s a lie, but she doesn’t know that.
“Watch it again. I have that interview memorized, and you never mentioned the Goldfish, the first thing I said to you, my broken ribs. You also never mentionedthat the second time, I was near dead from starvation. Or that twice, you went to your treehouse to find the snacks you left for me gone, but I wasn’t there, and then one day I quit taking the snacks. Or that I was the first person to ever tell you you had orange eyes.” She tries to step back a little, but doesn’t make it far. “I never wanted to sleep with you. That wasn’t what this was about. I know it seems like that now because I was so willing but it’s not my fault you’re so hot! And Sidney made it clear that was the only thing you wanted me for, so I panicked and I just went along with it. I’m sorry.”
She finally looks up to meet my eyes, and for a split second, I can almost see my sad girl. Almost.
But she isn’t real.
She was someone I created in my head when I thought life couldn’t get any worse. She gave me the strength to keep going, showed me having religious parents was better than having parents that starved and beat me, and more than anything, she was my muse.
She existed in my head because I needed her, but I don’t need her anymore. I don’t need her in my mind if she’s goingto be used against me. I should have never opened up about that story. I’ve spoken about my ghost a few times over the years — who knows what I’ve said in other interviews, and if she’s a good enough stalker, she could have gotten all of those details from different sources.
“That’s what every guy wants to hear, y’know that? I didn’t want to sleep with you, I just went along with it.”
“That’s not what I meant! I... Bash, let me start over. I just wanted to talk to you, that’s all. And then you winked at me and kissed my hand and I’m not fucking blind, okay? You do things to me I wasn’t expecting.”
It takes everything not to applaud her acting skills, because for a second there I almost believed her. “And how about now, hmm? Do you still just want to talk?”
I grab her hip and swipe my thumb over the birthmark I wish I didn’t know existed, nuzzling into her neck to slide my tongue up her quickening pulse point.
Her fingertips close around my shirt, but she doesn’t stop me. “This is what I mean,” she gasps. “I...”
Yeah, she wore a skimpy little skirt here because she wanted totalk.
She’d stop me if that was the case, demand I believe her, yet all she does is melt into me with a breathy little gasp that has me rock hard.
She lets me back her all the way up to the wall, and when I slip my hand up her skirt and tease her pussy, I find her already soaked for me. “Have you thought about last night as much as I have?”
I slide two fingers inside of her before she can respond, curling against the spot that made her fall apart.
“More,” she whispers. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it and how badly I wished I’d have told you before.”
If she keeps talking about that I’m going to lose it, so I crash my mouth to hers to shut her up.
Stop trying to make this more than it is.
Maybe we could have gotten there without the bullshit, but she had to play the game every other wannabe groupie is trying to play right now, and I refuse to let her toy with my heart.
I should have kept my sad girl to myself. It’s my fault I gave the public free ammunition and expected Alaina not to use it. I guess I needed this reality check.
I don’t say anything as I spin her around and tug down her thong, but once I have my cock out, I give her one opportunity to stop everything and convince me she’s telling the truth. “Do you want me to fuck you, Alaina?”
Her face is pressed against the wall, pupils blown as her body yearns for my cock, but I hear her loud and clear when she whispers, “Yes.”
