“I … uh … I want to. But aren’t you tired? We basically pulled an all-nighter, and not the fun kind with party drugs that keep you up. Maybe we should nap first?”
He looks confused, and I can’t blame him.
I need to get out of here. “You rest up. I’m just going to go see if the other guys need any help and maybe check out the place.”
“Oh. Okay.”
What. Is. Wrong. With. Me?
I turn on my heel and go to leave when Andrew’s small voice stops me.
“Seb?”
I glance at him over my shoulder.
“Why am I here?”
I deflate. My head throbs, I’m tired, and I don’t want to face this right now, but I need to. I approach the bed and sit on the edge while Andrew sits up. He’s so pretty and young.
I’m an idiot. “I might have done something stupid.”
“Well, you haven’t done me, so that’s not true yet. According to your manager anyway.”
I wince. “You heard that?”
“It was a small room, and he was kinda yelling, so yeah.”
“He’s mad at me but not because of you. I’m sure you’ve seen the news getting around about me. The, uh, photo.”
“Why do you think I was so fast to agree to get on a plane with you?” Andrew smiles wickedly, but it falls when he sees this is more serious than that.
“A hookup took that photo without my consent. I didn’t even know he’d done it.”
“Really? I thought it was a PR stunt.”
“It wasn’t. And I’m feeling a little …” Lost.
“Violated?” He answers for me. That word works too.
“Thorne told me I need to stop with the cheap tricks and to basically grow up. I wanted to prove to him I could have a real relationship, which is why …”
Andrew shifts like he’s uncomfortable. “Which is why you asked a stripper to come on vacation with you?”
“Told you. Stupid. And now you’re here, guilt is eating at me, and it’s not right to use you to make a point to someone who’s pissed at me.”
He starts laughing. “Oh, honey. You know why that man is actually pissed, don’t you?”
“Yeah, because I’m making his job ten times harder than it needs to be. It never used to bother me. I mean, we pay him for a reason, but—”
“Oh, you sweet, naïve man. I knew the minute—no, the split second—he saw me on your arm, it was like he wanted to pee on you and mark his territory.”
“What do you mean?”
“That man is in love with you.”
I huff. “Wow, you could not be more wrong. Thorne is straight.”
Andrew blinks at me. “I call bullshit. Did you see his face when you were rubbing my legs in the car and to him it would’ve looked like you were jerking me off? I swear he was going to push me out of the car and into the snow.”
What the fuck is he talking about?
“Trust me on this.” He touches my arm. “I know what jealous men act like.”
“What do they act like?”
“Neanderthals. You really think his line of questioning on the plane was for his benefit?”
I shake my head. “No, he was doing that to prove to me that I’m the biggest dumbass to ever dumb.”
Andrew jumps up and strips out of his coat. “Okay. This is what’s going to happen. We’re going to nap because you were right about being exhausted. Then this afternoon, I will show you exactly what I mean.”
“Wait, you’re staying? Even after—”
He climbs under the covers. “I’m not going to lie. I’m disappointed I’m not going to be able to have sex with you, but I’ll be happy to stay as a friend and help you.”
“Help me what, exactly?”
“Realize I’m right. Then you can do whatever you want with that information.”
“Thorne is not in love with me.”
He’s not. He can’t be.
Yet, something inside me hopes for it to be true because spending one night in his arms wasn’t enough for me.
I’ve never, not once, felt as secure as I did the other night with Thorne.
The fantasies of having more of that—of that feeling being a permanent fixture in my life … I need to know if it’s a possibility.
Chapter Five
Thorne
Seb and the stripper disappeared into their room as soon as we arrived, and they haven’t come up for air since.
They’re not the only ones. Everyone crashed out hard when we arrived, and I’m the only one who’s resurfaced to search for coffee.
Maybe that’s a good thing. Being alone is what I need to get my head on straight and forget about Seb, the tour, the press … everything. But especially the stripper currently warming Seb’s bed.
The large wrought iron clock above a large fireplace in the formal sitting area of this “cabin,” aka the ridiculously large mountain chalet, says it’s just past lunchtime which means I only got a few hours’ sleep. They were restless hours too.
It was nothing like falling asleep with Seb wrapped around me like the other night. I don’t think I’ve ever slept better than when he was in my arms.
I could claim exhaustion from having stayed up the night before trying to squash his photo, but I know it was him. All him.
Here, I stupidly thought I could spend this vacation with Seb while the others were all sexed-up. I might not be able to have Seb the way I want him, but I’m always eager for any scraps I can get. Spending these two weeks in the snow with nothing else to do … I thought we might go skiing, drink by the fire … I thought we could talk. I was looking forward to it.
Now that’s crushed by a cute little thing with killer legs and a pretty face.
I find the coffee machine in the kitchen and make myself a cup to take out on the back deck.
There’s a firepit and blankets, and I’ve definitely found the spot I’m going to hole up for the next two weeks. Though, by the time I get the damn thing lit, I almost have to go back inside to defrost.
I wrap myself in a blanket and sit on one of the deck chairs. The warm coffee, the mountain air, and the amazing view of the snowy forest … mmm, I could get used to this.
“You know how to make a fire?”
I freeze at Seb’s voice, refusing to turn to look at him. “I’ve been known to be useful at some things.” Like running every aspect of your life.
“Man make fire,” the purring Lemon says. “That’s sexy.”
Don’t look, Thorne. Don’t look.
I turn.
Damn it.
Lemon’s tucked under Seb’s arm, wearing Seb’s sweats, which are way too long for him, and that ridiculous jacket he came here with. I hate that the image of them together hurts so much.
I’ve put a lot of shit aside over the last few years because Seb has deserved to be young and free and do what he wants, but hearing him say he wants what Cash and Locke has, it changes everything for me.
It makes me want to march over there, pull Lemon by his stupid bleached hair and throw him out of the house. Because jealous Thorne is clearly rational.