“You’ve been dating him for two years. Isn’t it a little late in the game for him to figure that out now?”
“Yes. It’s so unfair.” She fell against him, her forehead hot and damp on his bare shoulder, which meant…shit. He was shirtless, wearing nothing but boxers.
“He says…he says we want different things. He says I won’t be happy being his wife, that I’ll always want to be the center of attention, surrounded by fancy things. He said I’m too materialistic.”
He wanted to say, The guy’s probably right. She and Steve didn’t sound like the best fit, especially if he was always threatening to break up with her. But he knew she needed to vent, not get a lecture, so he stayed quiet.
There might not be any cameras angled on them, but it still wasn’t right to be comforting her in his bedroom…on his bed…in his boxers. Eyes on the jeans and T-shirt he’d slung across the chair, he started to get up.
“But he’s wrong. I don’t need all that.” She tucked her face into his pec, her body shaking. “I just feel like I’ve invested so much into this relationship and for him to throw me away? I can’t…I…”
Shit. He hated to see her destroyed like this. Not going to push her away right now.
He’d give her a minute to calm down.
He was safe here in his bedroom.
“Good morning.” Gigi smiled at the man behind the reception desk. “I’m Gigi Cavanaugh. I believe you have a key waiting for me. Cassian Ellis’s suite.”
His eyes went wide, but he worked hard to school his features. “We sure do. Let me grab that for you.” He reached for a folio with her name scrawled across it. “Normally, I’d ask for ID. But you’re….gah. I’m sorry. I’m supposed to play it cool with the guests.” He leaned back, glancing into the office. Then, he whispered, “Could I please have your autograph? I’d tell you it’s for my niece, but I’d be lying. My friends make fun of me, but I don’t care. I love the Lollipops.”
She grinned. “There’s no shame in loving any kind of music. I literally have to pull the car over every time “Faithfully” comes on the radio, just so I can act it out like I did when I was a thirteen-year-old girl in my bedroom pretending to be on stage.” She didn’t let him see the way his reaction stung.
She got it a lot from people. They didn’t even realize the insult behind the compliment. Hopefully, one day she’d be known for her music, and people wouldn’t be embarrassed to like it.
“And you made it, playing arenas around the world. Talk about realizing your dreams.” He tore a sheet of paper off a notepad and handed her a pen. “Thank you so much. When does the next album drop, and is your tour coming anywhere near Calamity?”
“I wish I had answers for you, but nothing’s confirmed yet.” She wrote, It was great to meet you, Arturo! Have a great day, Gigi. And then handed it back. “Here you go.”
Grinning, he flapped the note like he was trying to dry the ink. “Thank you so much.” When she started to walk off, he called, “You’ll need to swipe that key in the elevator to get to the top floor. And when the door opens, you’re in it. It’s like a huge apartment.”
“Perfect, thank you.” It seemed crazy, because she’d only been gone less than a week, but she already missed Cassian so badly. And she couldn’t wait to tell him she was all-in.
The minute she saw him, she was going to jump into his arms.
Maybe she’d lock his bedroom door, so she could give him a proper wake-up call. Her whole body heated at the thought.
She hit the call button, aware of the eerie quiet of the lobby. Still, even though Cassian had booked the entire hotel, she didn’t feel safe. They hadn’t caught the photographer. He could be lurking anywhere.
She got a tingle at the back of her neck. The moment the elevator doors opened, she stepped inside, like she was fleeing from danger. She swiped the keycard for the penthouse.
Their time together was almost over, and it made her scared that they were going to live so far apart. Right when she’d decided she couldn’t live without him, it was time for him to start training camp.
How would they survive three thousand miles apart?
Unless…what if she moved to Boston? For the short term, she could rent studio space. But, eventually, they could buy a place together. She could build a studio in it.
What does it matter where I live? I can literally do my business anywhere in the world.
The thrill of it swept through her. She was going to do it. She was going to move to Boston.
Excitement popped like champagne bubbles underneath her skin. She could make this album with Dale, live with Cassian…God. She hadn’t fully believed they could truly be together. A part of her had held back, thinking they only had this summer.
But it had finally happened. After all this time, all the heartache, she and Cassian were together.
Forever.
Nothing felt more right. She’d never felt more complete.
The doors opened, and she nearly choked at the strong smell, a mix of booze, greasy food, and old gym bag. She stepped onto the marble-tiled floor into the huge living area.
Holy shit. Bodies were passed out everywhere. And were those…Jesus, used condoms on the floor?
Liquor bottles and pizza boxes littered the tables. A huge man lay curled up in the fetal position near the fireplace, and a couple women cuddled on the couch.
For a moment, all she could hear was the pounding of her heart.
If Cassian were here…what if the photographer had gotten pictures of him partying this hard? If he’d been this drunk, had he been dirty dancing with any of these women?
She felt sick.
What if Cassian had gotten so messed up, he’d passed out with some woman wrapped around him?
Stop it. Stop it right now. He said he’s done with this lifestyle.
Every night while she was in LA, he’d gone home at nine so they could catch up with each other.
He loves me. She knew that. Down to her bones, she knew he loved her and would never jeopardize what they had. Which meant he wouldn’t get so drunk he didn’t know what he was doing.
She didn’t bother looking to see if he was one of the guys in this room.
He wouldn’t hurt us. He wouldn’t.
So, which was Cassian’s bedroom? She headed left, where she saw two closed doors along a dark hallway. She would guess the master bedroom would be off by itself, so she made her way across the living area, stepping around the refuse and sleeping bodies. She felt a little better, knowing—even if it was just logistically—that he was somehow separated from the decadence.
As she approached, her body tightened in fear of what she’d find behind that door.
Stop doubting him. You can’t build a relationship on a shaky foundation.
I trust him. I do.
Except….she thought she heard murmuring.
The closer she got, the clearer the sound. Quiet conversation.
And, then, she was sure she heard a female voice.
Amie’s.
No. It can’t be. She’s not staying here.
In the back of her mind, she was aware of noises—the suite’s door closing, sneaker soles squeaking on marble—but every cell in her body had gone on red alert, as she focused keenly on what was going on behind that crack in the door.