The entire point of leaving my old label and coming over to Hidden Cliff for this solo project was to prove to myself that I’m the artist everyone thinks I am. That I can make an album every bit as good as the ones I wrote in rage or heartbreak. That I’m not just some kid wonder with a burst of youthful talent that will slowly dry up.
So even though I keep wondering about all the things I can’t remember—what Spencer’s orgasm face looks like, and if he loses control and gets all grunty when he fucks—I manage to keep my cool.
I’m a rock god, and I definitely don’t have time for this mess.
CHAPTERFOUR
SPENCER
“What the helldo you mean, the lawyers don’t agree?”
Samson sighs. Alyssa recommended him as someone with appropriate discretion for this kind of job, and I expected he would file paperwork and that would be the end of it.
I was being naive.
“The contract they’re trying to force on you with the annulment is ridiculous. I’m representing your interests, and I have to advise against signing in the strongest terms.”
I let out a long, slow breath. I’m back at my place in Boston, packing for a couple of weeks in New York City. It’s the brief off-season, so I go every year to take care of business and visit Alyssa. We decided to end our public-facing fake relationship a few years ago, but she’s still my closest friend, not to mention the best PR rep an athlete could have.
I’ll be training every day, reviewing my game with a couple of coaches, but New York is the best approximation I get of a real vacation, and I am not ready for the stress of my unresolved marriage to follow me.
“I don’t understand. We both want the marriage to disappear. Why can’t it disappear?”
“Because you each have substantial interests at stake,” he says, which is just lawyer talk and not a real answer.
I sit on the bed, anxiety prickling up my neck. “What’s next?”
“I could argue back and forth with his team, but that can be an exhausting process, and I know you want this expedited. The gears would move more quickly if we could get you both in the same room.”
I blink. “Seriously?”
“It’s not ideal, but you’d leave with documents signed and the entire matter behind you.”
“Fine,” I say. “Thank you for finding a way to expedite. Where is this room?”
“Can you come to Seattle?”
I look at my suitcase. Of course Gabriel is on the opposite coast.
This means delaying my trip for another day, but if it gets me peace of mind, so be it.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can, if he’s available.”
“I’ll confirm details.”
The next morning, I’m on the first flight to Seattle, which puts me in the city while the sun is still rising. True to stereotype, the rock star isn’t awake yet, so I find a gym with the right facilities and throw myself into training.
No way I’m losing another day to this bullshit.
When I check my phone an hour in, though, I’m surprised to see a string of missed calls. Concerned, I call Samson back first, sweat dripping down my face.
“Spencer.”
“Something wrong?” I ask.
I hear him swallow. “I take it you haven’t been online in the past hour or so?”
A chill goes over me. “What does that mean?” I ask evenly.
