He shrugged.
“Did you buy it already decorated?”
“Yeah. Some financier asshole lived here last.” He sprawled out on the white couch. “Pretty sure Mal annoyed the dude into moving. None of them liked him. Apparently, he complained about the bodyguards coming and going, the fans out front, and all that.”
“Guess it would take some getting used to.”
He took a swig of his beer.
“Are we going to talk about the check?” I asked, slipping into one of the armchairs. Very comfy. “I think we should.”
“What’s there to say? You deserve the money, Jill. As far as I’m concerned, you earned it.”
“Adam—”
“No one supported me and my music like you did. Showing up for every gig you could, helping to lug equipment, giving me space to write my songs.” He stared out a window at the lights of the Pearl District. “Even if it was too much for you in the end…”
I downed some beer. The less said about ye olde days, the better. It would only lead to more fights. And what was even the point of rehashing the past yet again?
His sneaker tapped out a beat against the floor and he pulled out his cell. Soon enough, Howlin’ Wolf played over the sound system. Blues had always been his go-to when stressed. “Too damn quiet in here.”
“Is that why you go out all the time?” I crossed my legs, waving my foot in the air. Guess we were both a little wired. “Heard Martha say something about it when you got in the car. And then there’s the tea being served in mighty amounts. Did you really trash a hotel room? Isn’t that a bit clichéd?”
“Everything worth doing eventually becomes a cliché.” He put the beer to his lips again. “So you are keeping tabs on me.”
“I don’t need to. Certain people are only too happy to tell me everything and anything when it comes to you.” I stared at the wall. “You should have seen the messages I received when you were photographed with that model, Mae Cooper.”
He snorted. “She’s a neighbor.”
“How handy.”
“She’s also engaged to Bon’s brother. Who’s almost as intimidating as Bon is. Not a family you want to mess with.”
I paused. “Oh.”
He just watched me.
“What?” I snapped.
A small amused smile curled his lips. “Not like you to be jealous.”
“Go fuck yourself.” I set my beer and the check down on the coffee table, hauled my ass out of the chair and made for the door. Stupid. I was so breathtakingly stupid. With a bit of work, I could have found an address for Martha and just mailed the damn money to her. She’d have passed it on to him. But no. I had to see the big jerkwad for myself. “This is getting us nowhere. I never should have come.”
My fingers no sooner gripped the doorknob than he was there, hands flat against the front door, blocking my exit. I looked up and growled. “Move, Adam.”
“Go pick up the check.”
“I don’t want your money.”
“Yes, you do. You dumped me over money.”
I shook my head. “That was only part of it. A very small part of it. The straw that broke the camel’s back, so to speak. Now move.”
“We’re not done talking.”
“Oh yes we are. Unless of course you’d like to get punched in the dick.”
His gaze hardened. “I’m sorry, all right? I’m sorry. Is that what you want to hear?”
“Move!”
With a snarl of his own, he took a step back, frustration etched into his handsome face. “Fuck’s sake, Jill. Why do you always have to be so…?”
“So, what?”
He just shook his head, mouth tight with frustration.
“Go on. Say it.”
“Emotional,” he spat. “It’s always pushing with you. Where’s our relationship heading? What are my plans for the future? How do I feel about you? We could never just fucking be. The crazy thing is, I was with you. I was a hundred and ten percent with you and it still wasn’t enough.”
“Maybe you should have told me that instead of mumbling excuses when I needed to talk.”
He shook his head.
“Anyway, got some amazing news for you, Adam. We’re no longer together. You no longer have to tolerate my needy, chatty ass.” I wrenched open the door, paused, and slammed it shut again. If this was the last time I ever saw the jerk, then I would say everything I needed to say. And I’d say it now, right up nice and close to his face in a nice clear angry voice. “But while I’m here, how fucking dare you? You wrote a whole damn album telling the world how you felt when you couldn’t even tell me. Not once. Not even once did you tell me how you felt about me.”
“You kicked me out.”
“You took me for granted.”
“You blocked my number.”
“You behaved like an emotionally repressed immature asshole, and I didn’t want to talk to you.” I slammed my hands against his chest. “So there,” I yelled like a reasonable adult.
“I loved you!” he roared back at me. “I loved you, Jill. And maybe I was shit at showing it, but I would have figured it out. I would have gotten there. Why the hell did you give up on me so soon?”
I stared at him, stunned. The blood drained out of my face, my brain feeling both light and heavy at the same time. “You did? You mean that? You really loved me?”
“Of course, I did,” he said, shoulders falling, the fight leaching out of the man. “And it’s not like you ever said it to me either.”
Huh.
“Was it that asshole Chris who was always hanging around?”
“What?” I shook my head, trying to think straight. “No. There was no one else.”
“Bet he was knocking on your door not five minutes after you threw me out.” He cracked his knuckles all Neanderthal-like. “The way he used to look at you…”
Holy cow. Adam had loved me. I’d thought it was all some bad joke or publicity
