time just like you wanted.” He tied off the tourniquet. His eyes were already heavy lidded as he bent over my arm. He’d already had his dose. Anticipation swirled in my belly as I watched the needle enter my skin. The effect was almost immediate. My brain detached from the world around me as I felt the warm euphoric haze descend. I didn’t even notice when War removed the needle.
When I woke up later I was curled up on my side, War sprawled out on his stomach in a pair of black boxers on the bed beside me. I glanced at the bedside clock. Six a.m. The dose must have been really small. I’d only been out a couple of hours, but War was snoring, indifferent to the world around him.
He didn’t even stir when I moved to the bathroom. I stripped out of my clothes and looked at myself in the mirror. I’d lost twenty pounds over the past year. Food, fashion, passion, music…all were losing their appeal, everything in my life taking second place to my desire to get high. Disgusted with myself, I turned from the harsh truth that stared back at me from the mirror.
My life that once had so much potential was circling the bottom of the drain. If only I had refused that first hit when Martin offered, maybe things would’ve turned out differently. But I’d been too weak. It had been so much easier to give in to the belief that I was as worthless as my mother had always made me feel than to fight the battle for my self-respect.
I showered and dressed, pausing for a moment to glance down at the sparkling gem on my left hand. I’d made my decision.
On the elevator ride down to the workout room, I used a rubber band to twist my hair back into a sloppy bun, but avoided looking at my guilty reflection in the mirrored wall. When the doors finally opened, I sighed heavily.
“Good morning.” The redhead took a step back to let me out. She let the doors close without getting on. “I heard you sing last night.” Avery’s hands twisted on the handles of a jump rope. “You were really good.”
“Thanks,” I muttered, eyes narrowing. “Did you have a good
“Yeah,” she replied, completely oblivious to the double entendre. “I like to jump rope while Marcus does the treadmill.”
“Oh, really?” I peered over her shoulder. “Where is your fiance?”
“He’s finishing up. Why?”
“No reason.” I shrugged.
Avery stared at me for a moment, her head angling to the side. “Where’s War?”
I didn’t answer.
“I’m surprised to see you down here. You both seemed pretty messed up last night.”
“We had a couple of drinks. It was a
“I wasn’t referring to alcohol.” Avery’s emerald eyes flared. “I’d keep those sleeves of yours pulled down if I were you.”
“Listen, you don’t like me for some reason, and that’s fine. You’re not exactly my favorite person, either. There’s been a lot more tension on the tour since you arrived. But your drug use really concerns me. My brother went down a similar path. It will destroy you. And hurt those who care about you.” She sighed. “I really don’t want something bad to happen to you. Especially if there’s something I can do to prevent it.”
“Oh, please,” I interrupted. “Save the Mother Teresa act for the fans. I don’t need your help or anyone else’s.”
“Hey.” Marcus walked up and kissed Avery’s cheek. “I’m done. You ready to go up?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Avery stood back while he pushed the elevator call button, and then leaned into him. “Think about it, Lace.”
I walked past them without responding. I’d had enough of her highhandedness. But though I tried not to let them, Avery’s words had hit home. I nervously twisted on my engagement ring as I continued down the hall. I inserted my key card and took in a calming breath before I entered the small exercise room.
Sleeveless exercise tank wet with sweat, Bryan was lying on a bench, tatted muscles flexing under an impressive load of free weights. “You ok, Lace?” He racked the bar as soon as he saw me. “You look a little pale.”
I put my shaking hands in my hoodie pockets. Avery Jones had rattled me more than I cared to admit.
“I’m glad you came.” My eyes met his. Reaching for one of the folded towels, he wiped his forehead. “I did a lot of thinking after the Morris party.” He stopped talking as a woman entered the room. “Let’s go somewhere where we won’t be interrupted.”
Hand warm and insistent against the small of my back, he guided me down the hall. He opened the door to an empty massage room. He flipped on the light and closed the door as soon as I was inside. I heard the lock click. My gaze fluttered nervously to his. My blood pressure shot up in response to the intensity of his grey green gaze.
“Bry?” I took a step back. “What are you doing? I thought you said you wanted to talk.”
“I do, and we will.” He took another step toward me, and when I stepped back my bottom came into contact with the counter behind me. I was trapped. He closed the remaining distance between us, his warm hard body, all of it, pressing into mine. I put my hands up to his chest, intending to push him away but my traitorous fingers didn’t get the memo. Instead they pulled him closer. The smell of his spicy cologne surrounded me.
“I’m done, Lace,” he declared. “Done hiding what’s between us.” I’m sure my face registered my shock before his head lowered and he kissed me.
A million and one at the very least. Thoughts gave way to sensation as his talented firm lips moved expertly against mine while his hands slid down to my ass. He grabbed me, pulled my hips into his, and pressed against me. He felt delicious, better than anything in the world, and I wanted him so badly. I shivered, allowing him to coax my lips apart. His tongue entered my mouth and slowly slid across my own. My pulse began to beat wildly as his fingers opened and closed massaging the soft flesh of my ass.
He lifted his head, repeated my name, and trailed hot open mouthed kisses down my arched neck. I was just going to slide my hands underneath his shirt when he caught them and brought them to his lips. Suddenly, he froze solid. “What the hell’s on your finger, Lace?” he bit out.
My passion hazed brain took a moment to process his question.
“You’re fucking engaged, aren’t you?” His voice was deadly quiet, but his expression was so wild and wounded that I took a step back.
“Why, Lace?” Bryan scrubbed his face with both hands. When he finally looked at me, his eyes had a tormented glint to them. “How could you do this to me? To us?”
“What
“When
They’re keeping you from seeing the truth that’s right in front of you. How incredibly strong you are. How much you have to give. How much you mean to the people who really care about what happens to you. Like your brother. Like me.”
“War cares about me.” My eyes burned at his harsh words. I recognized the truth in them. It had me digging my fingernails into my clenched palms. But his declaration was too little and too late. War was the safer choice,