Seeing as Phoenix doesn’t perform my song anymore, they should be walking in here any moment.
“You don’t strike me as dumb, Lennon.” Her voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. “Who are you interested in? George or Phoenix?”
“Neither.”
While I like Skylar, I’m not fond of this trick question.
Hurt flashes across her face. “And here I thought we were going to be friends.”
The last thing I want to do is upset someone who already has so much to be upset over.
“George,” I fib because I don’t want her to get the wrong idea about my feelings for Phoenix.
She studies me as the first few bars of “Cryin’” by Aerosmith fill the venue.
“Why are they playing that?”
Skylar places the cap back on her marker. “Since Phoenix is still hell-bent on no longer singing Sharp Objects, I told him he should give a nod to his favorite artists that came before him and sing one of their songs at the end of every show. This way we could spin his bout of defiance into something positive and fans will stop complaining so much.”
From a PR perspective, that’s a genius move, but personally, I hate it.
I was enjoying watching Phoenix suffer whenever it came time to sing my song.
“George is clean,” she tells me as she places the stack inside her giant purse. “And as far as I know, the only girl he’s even remotely interested in…is you.”
Oh boy. “Right.”
Her gaze turns scrutinizing. “Something tells me you don’t feel the same, though.”
I shrug, feeling all kinds of uncomfortable with her line of questioning. “George is sweet.”
She snorts. “Sweet is the kiss of death.”
Damn her.
“It is not,” I defend. “Sweet is good.”
“Sweet is an elderly man holding a door open for his wife. Sweet is a six-year-old boy handing you weeds he thinks are flowers. Not guys you want to have hot, dirty sex with.” Her lips twitch with humor. “You’re so not into him.”
I could be.
If a certain asshole would back the hell off.
“I don’t know. It’s too early to tell.”
I’m pretty sure there’s cheese in my fridge back home that I’ve known longer than George.
Besides, I’d take sweet over cold-blooded thief any day.
“Phoenix is clean, too,” she says as the song comes to an end.
I stay silent.
However, right before the band barrels into the room, Skylar squeezes my hand and whispers, “Safe isn’t always the safer option, Lennon.”
I’m about to ask her to expand on that, but Phoenix walks in.
I want to slap the mocking smirk off his gorgeous face as he walks over to the couch. “Look who finally found the greenroom.”
My retort dies when the rest of the guys come in, followed by a security guard and a small group of scantily clad girls.
“Everyone’s cleared,” he announces before the girls sidle up beside the guy of their choosing.
I immediately recognize the blonde Phoenix slings his arm around because she’s the one who made a jab about my weight when I kicked her out of his suite two weeks ago.
My focus veers to George, who’s grabbing a soda from the small fridge.
I’m not sure what Skylar meant with her last remark, but I do know what’s best for me.
Sweet and safe.
“Not so fast.” Skylar reaches into her purse and tosses condoms at the guys before she fixes her glare on the girls. “No pictures or videos, no posts on social media, and no talking to the press. Break the rules and it will be the last time any of you ever come back here. Got it?”
They start to nod, but Memphis throws his condom at Phoenix. “I’m gonna head back to the hotel and get some sleep.” One of the girls tries to follow him, but he grinds out, “Alone.”
Phoenix gestures for the girl to join him, and I don’t miss the venomous look he aims my way. “More for me.”
I’m not in the mood for his shenanigans.
I get off the couch. “Phoenix—”
“What?” He places an arm around the second girl’s shoulders. “You want to take their place?” That deep, rough voice cuts like a blade as he looks me up and down with a taunting glint. “Or would you rather take mine?”
My fingers curl with the visceral urge to punch him, but I hold it together.
“Don’t flatter yourself.” I rub my temples, attempting to thwart off the migraine he’s giving me. “I’m too tired to babysit you tonight, so do me a favor and go to bed.”
He flashes the girls a panty-dropping grin. “That’s exactly what I’m doing.”
“In that case, you’re off the hook,” George declares as he strolls over to us. “Want to come to my room and watch a movie?”
Phoenix’s nostrils flare, and I take the opportunity to give him a taste of his own medicine.
“No.” An arrogant smile lifts the corner of his mouth…but it quickly falls when I follow that up with, “But you’re welcome to come back to mine and watch one.”
A muscle in his jaw tics and fury sparks in those blue orbs.
Mission accomplished.
CHAPTER 36
LENNON
“That really sucks.” George reaches for another dumpling and takes a bite. “I’m sorry.”
The plan was to watch a movie and order takeout, but we’ve been sitting on my bed talking for the last two hours.
He told me all about his parents, who are still happily married after thirty years, and his little sister, who he adores.
I ended up confiding in him about my mom and dad.
His brows furrow as he chews. “I can’t imagine how hard that must be.”
While I appreciate his sympathy, talking about my dad only makes me miss him even more.
According to Mrs. Palma, he’s doing great, and when I spoke to him this morning he was in good spirits, but I hate not being able to see him.
I’m hoping she can convince him to use FaceTime for our next conversation.
I pluck a piece of chicken with my chopsticks. “Not to be a bitch, but can we change the subject?”
“Sure.” He wipes his mouth with a napkin. “Of course.” Glancing down, he releases a breath. “Actually, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
He looks so serious, I stop eating. “What’s up?”
“You and Phoenix—”
As if on cue, there’s a sharp knock on the other side of the wall, followed by a deep, “Fuck yeah.”
“I’m sorry,” I grit out when the headboard thumping escalates. “You were saying?”
Visibly uneasy, George looks between me and the wall. “What’s the deal with you two? I know you used to date, but…” His voice trails off and the banging finally stops.
I have to bite the inside of my cheek because it didn’t last long.
Averting my gaze, I focus on my chicken and broccoli again. “We had a very short-lived thing back in high school, but it was nothing.”
“It doesn’t seem like nothing to him.” His expression falters. “I just want to make sure I’m not barking up the wrong tree here.”