The tendons in his throat flex as he swallows. “In that case, I’m not answering your question either.”
His tit-for-tat tactic doesn’t surprise me one bit.
It’s how we’ve always been with one another.
“But since you’re staying,” he continues. “I think we should call some kind of truce.”
I want to tell him to go fuck himself, but I need the money.
Us not being at each other’s throats every second of the day and night will make my job a lot easier.
“Fine.” I stand. “I’m going back to bed.”
His fingers wrap around my wrist. “Lennon.”
There’s so much longing in his tone it makes my skin heat.
“I said truce.” I hold his stare. “We’re not friends.”
We never were.
My heart slams painfully against my rib cage when I glance down at his tattoo.
The first time I saw the clef and staff, there weren’t any music notes. When I asked him why it was blank, he said he was waiting to write the song that would change his life.
Yet, the notes inked over his heart are mine. Not his.
Disgusted, I yank my wrist out of his grasp and walk out.
Phoenix was right.
It’s a lot easier when they don’t see it coming.
CHAPTER 33
LENNON
The roar of the crowd pulsates through my ears as I watch Phoenix run around the stage.
Bright lights illuminate his form, and despite it being hot as hell where I’m standing, a shiver runs through me.
He’s putting every ounce of himself into this performance and it’s both awe inspiring and intimidating how comfortable and hypnotic he is up there.
Like he’s in his element.
Like he was born to do this.
A bitter feeling rises up my throat. I’d kill to know what it’s like to not only have that level of confidence to be able to sing in front of thousands of people, but to be so incredibly talented no one can take their eyes off you.
To be him.
The song he’s belting comes to an end and the stage lights dim, just like they always do when it’s time for him to sing the last song of the night.
My stomach knots with equal parts vexation and intrigue.
It’s our third and final show in Arizona and he still hasn’t sung “Sharp Objects.”
Memphis, Storm, and George don’t even bother cueing up the intro this time.
Once again, you can feel the disappointment from the fans when Phoenix raises his middle finger in the air and tells them all to have a good night.
“Dammit,” Chandler mutters beside me. “What the hell is his problem?”
I have to bite my cheek to keep from smiling.
Me.
Phoenix refusing to sing my song has become the proverbial elephant in the room.
Or elevator in this case.
It’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop and the twenty floors it takes to get to our hotel room feels like a million.
Even though he’s standing behind me and I’m grateful I don’t have to look at him, I wish we weren’t alone.
Especially when he speaks.
“You never sit in the greenroom during shows.”
It’s not a question, it’s a fact.
One that doesn’t warrant my acknowledgment.
I can feel the heat emanating from him as he moves closer, stepping into my personal space.
His breath fans the side of my neck with his next statement. “Whenever I look over, you’re always standing right there…watching me.”
Because I hate him.
I straighten my spine. “You know what they say. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”
My skin prickles when his fingers skim the side of my waist. “I don’t have to be your enemy, Groupie.”
I’m tempted to remind him that I’m not his groupie, but I’m too thrown by what he said.
As long as I’m alive, he’ll never be anything more than my enemy.
I turn around. “What’s the matter, Phoenix? You don’t like me watching you?” I take a step, but he doesn’t budge so my body ends up flush against his. “Then again, it must be awfully hard to sing the words you stole in front of the person you stole them from, huh?”
There’s so much venom in his stare I know I’ve gotten right to the crux of it.
Even though he won’t admit it, deep down he knows what he did was not only wrong, it makes him nothing but a phony.
The elevator doors finally open and he sidesteps me, shoulder-checking me in the process.
“Aw, did I hit a nerve?” I taunt as I follow close behind.
Irritation bolts down my spine when he doesn’t say a word. He still won’t give me the satisfaction of owning up to what he did.
However, my annoyance for him quickly turns to annoyance for the group of girls hanging outside his door.
Not only is it alarming that they managed to find out what room he’s staying in, I am not in the mood to spend the rest of my night chasing him around town again.
“Don’t you have security?”
“Don’t want it.” He takes the key card out of his pocket. “Not for them.”
I place my hand on his wrist when he goes to open the door. “Don’t do this.”
Those harsh blue eyes zero in on me and the corner of his lip curls.
“Why? You offering me something better?”
The slightest flicker of pain—pain shielded by the armor I’ve built over these past four years—spreads throughout my chest.
I would have given him everything.
“Once upon a time I did. But you fucked that up.”
Removing my own key card from my purse, I stride over to the room next to his.
The rage and hurt burrowing under my skin rises to the surface when I realize Phoenix is behind me as I open the door.
I try to close it on him, but he plows through it. It shuts with a loud slam.
“Why are you in here?” Animosity spirals in my stomach as I face him. “You have a hallway full of girls. Take your dirty dick out there and harass one of them.”
He stands there, glaring at me for several long seconds.
When he finally speaks, his voice is filled with acrimony. “Wow. Judgmental much? Sorry, I’m not a self-righteous prude like you.”
It’s downright comical that he thinks I’m still an innocent virgin.
“Prude?” Shooting him a cold glare of my own, I place a hand on my chest. “Did you really think after the stellar half sex you gave me, I wasn’t going to go out there and find guys who could, I don’t know…do a much better job and finish?”
Anger comes off him in violent waves as he surges forward. “The only reason that didn’t happen is because you’re a fucking liar.”
This time, I do laugh. It’s impossible not to after that statement. “You’re one to talk. Last I checked, you were the one who pretended you wanted to pursue things with me so you could steal my song, remember?”
I know I’ve got him because he doesn’t have a retort.
Then again, how could he? We both know I’m right.
His eyes drop to something on the floor. “You still have it.”