An hour later, Zeke finally calls an end to my impromptu music lesson. He grumbles something about me needing sleep if we’re going to record tomorrow, and even though I know where he’s coming from, I don’t want to leave.
I don’t think Kai does either, because after packing away the instruments, he pulls me in for a side hug.
And holy Artemis, Kai Jenner’s touching me.
“C’mon, man,” Heathen’s lead singer whines to Zeke, his skin practically branding mine. “Your woman’s a fuckin’ machine on the strings, it’s a crime to stop now.” Without letting go of my upper arm, he points to yet another guitar case. “I’ll even introduce her to my Les Paul.”
I gasp.
Facing me, Kai nods reverently. “I know, baby doll. I feel the same way about her too.”
Clearing his throat, Zeke pointedly glares at Kai’s hand. You know, the one that’s freaking touching me.
With a groan, Kai steps away. “You’re a fuckin’ Grinch, man. You hear me? A Grinch! You gonna steal Christmas next?”
Zeke rolls his eyes at the theatrics and gestures for me. “Wil, let’s go. We need to head back so you can rest. Need to bring your A-game tomorrow.”
Knowing he’s right, I sigh and give Kai a small wave and a sympathetic smile. “Maybe next time?”
“It’s a date.” He winks.
“No, it’s fucking not,” Zeke growls.
Kai’s chuckle follows us out the room, and when we reenter the party, a familiar hand clasps my nape, directing me through the throng. Even though I’m disappointed at having to leave, I’m so pumped from Kai’s music tutorial that I pay no attention to Zeke’s demonstrative hold.
Instead, I blabber.
“Can you believe he based a chord on an augmented shape and added a high seven?” I ask, groaning my appreciation. Zeke smirks. “He made it look so easy, like anyone could do it. And I kind of did it. Did you see? There was a moment when it almost sounded—”
Oomph.
My monologue comes to a screaming halt. Feeling terrible for the person who bore the brunt of my distraction, I hold out my hand in apology. “I’m so sorry.” But the words fade on my tongue when I realize who I’m speaking to. Eyes wide, stomach bottoming out, my hand falls limply to my side.
Selena.
She’s all hips, waist, boobs, and hair. With a skintight dress and stiletto heels, her outfit is more suited to a nightclub than a rock concert. The woman oozes sensuality. Heck, even I struggle not to ogle her hourglass figure—it’s stunning.
After a dismissive glance in my direction, she fixes her attention on the man at my side. A seductive smile plays on her lips. “I was wondering where you ran off to.” Manicured fingernails tease the back of his hand—the one not clasping my neck.
He didn’t.
Shocked, dismayed, hurt, furious—so many warring emotions swirl my insides. I feel like I’m watching a silent film with no subtitles but am expected to know the dialogue. Shrugging out of Zeke’s hold, I step away.
Zeke is silent. He doesn’t look at me, doesn’t try to shift me closer, nothing. His eyes are locked on his ex-wife’s, an impenetrable mask in place as she sidles up to him. Her voluptuous breasts brush against his pecs. It’s not by accident.
I want to throw up.
Then scream.
Then laugh at my stupidity.
Unfortunately, my feet are stuck. They refuse to remove me from this nightmare. Seems they want to laugh at my stupidity too. I search the room for Shiloh, Reid, and Drake, for a reason to leave. However, they’re in deep conversation with Eli, Heathen’s drummer. They must be discussing drum fills or something because Reid’s moving his arms as though he’s pounding out a four-four beat while Eli nods his appreciation.
Selena simpers. It’s annoying. “You remember Benedict, don’t you, Zeke? Heathen’s manager?” Glistening cobalt hair is flicked over a slim shoulder as she indicates to the man on her right.
I didn’t realize she was with anyone, and I don’t think Zeke did either. The moment his eyes land on the band manager, his jaw ticks. Benedict winces, taking a step back.
Selena’s smile grows as she watches the interplay. “After you left, Benedict here offered to show me around.” Facing Benedict, she trails her fingers up his arm and over his shoulder. He’s smaller than Zeke, not as broad or muscular. Whatever. I don’t care.
Selena’s glances at Zeke, her voice coy. “There are so many helpful people in the music industry, don’t you think, sweetie? Everyone is clamoring to do anything for you.”
Zeke’s fists clench.
I swallow the bile in my throat.
“But you know all about that, don’t you?” She stares pointedly at him, then me. Tilting her head, Selena considers me. “She’s a bit young, don’t you think? And not at all your usual style. She’s very… cute.” Something in the way she sneers the word tells me it’s not a compliment.
After an internal check of my legs, I’m relieved to learn they’re once again responsive. And just in time too. I need to get out of here; this conversation is toxic.
“She’s none of your damn business,” Zeke growls.
I pause, my heart shattering into splintered shards.
“Oh, sweetie.” Selena bats her eyelashes, ignoring Zeke’s outburst. “If she’s sleeping her way to stardom, then it’s everyone’s business.”
“I’m not sleeping with her.”
His ex-wife faces me, her venomous eyes scanning my body. Even though I want to be far, far away from this poisonous woman, I refuse to cower under her gaze. Instead, I tilt my chin, daring her to do her worst.
“You’ve always had a soft spot for strays,” Selena throws at Zeke. “It’s the hero complex in you. And this one screams charity case.” She gestures to my outfit. “Look at her. Threadbare tank, last season’s jeans, and those shoes….” After shaking her head in disgust, Selena adopts a condescending tone. “Oh, honey. You’re desperate for your first royalty check, aren’t you?”
Gritting my teeth, I vow not to engage. After all, she’s the one acting like a petulant child here, not me. Who does this, anyway? Who openly discredits someone for their own petty satisfaction? Anyone with a conscience would never treat another human being this way.
“Or is it my ex-husband’s money you’re after?”
Do. Not. Engage.
Man, it’s hard. I want to rip her fingernails off with pliers and then use them to gouge her eyes out. What a bitch. What a rude, selfish, conceited—
“Why the fuck do you care, Selena?” Zeke spits. “Willow’s no one, a nobody.”
I gasp.
What. The. Hell.
And narrow my eyes at him.
Selena snickers, Benedict coughs, and after taking in my thunderous expression, Zeke curses under his breath.
“Willow,” he warns, no doubt seeing the daggers I’m glaring his way.
“Don’t Willow me,” I grit out.
Despite wanting to tear the place down before drowning in my own tears, I refuse to be anything but a professional. After all, what I say now will reflect on my band, and I won’t have any negativity falling on the boys simply because Zeke and his bitch of an ex-wife are bona fide asshats.
Facing Selena, I plaster on my best fake smile. “Nice seeing you again.” I shake Benedict’s hand. “I’m Willow, by the way.” Finally, I turn to Zeke. “Don’t worry about driving us back. Drake, Shiloh, Reid, and I will find our own way.”
Spinning on my heel, I storm through the crowd, my gaze trained on the door. Once I’m outside I’ll call Shiloh to tell her and the others to meet me out front.
It’s difficult maintaining composure, especially when my vision blurs and I trip over a bass guitarist’s foot. Why he’s sprawled on the floor with two half-naked women on top of him, I’ll never know. But I’m not one to judge.
Refusing to be deterred, I stomp through the exit and am halfway down the hallway when a hand grasps my elbow. I’m spun, my hair a mane of tangled fire as it swirls around me.
“Willow, stop.”
I yank at my arm, but Zeke holds firm. “Get your hands off me!”
“Not a fucking chance.” He pulls me further along the hallway, only pausing when he pushes open a nondescript door and thrusts me inside. It slams shut behind us. When he hits the lights, I blink, my eyes taking a moment to adjust to the brightness.
A storage room.
Zeke Danton dragged me into a goddamn storage room. How freaking apt. Not that I get a chance to admire the stacked boxes and plastic crates full of who the heck cares because I’m soon pushed against the door.
Oomph.
I glower at Zeke. His clenched fists cage me in, his nostrils flare, and his breathing is harsh. “Now listen carefully.”
I’d like to say his close proximity stokes my anger further, that the fury swirls and sparks—a volcano about to erupt. But I’d be lying.
It does much, much worse.
However, I refuse to fall victim to our chemistry. I refuse to fall victim, period. That shit ends now.
Pushing against his chest, I yell, “No! You listen to me!” Not expecting my outburst, he moves back, shocked. “Don’t ever speak to me like that again. How dare you? Contrary to what you might think, I am someone. I’m a daughter, a friend, a fucking talented musician. I’m a vegetarian, pagan, and occasional storm chaser. I might not live in a fancy house, schmooze with the big names, or have a platinum record on my wall, but I can assure you, I am somebody.” My chest heaves. “You’re just too blind to see it.”
Pause.
Blink.
“I see you.”
With Artemis as my witness, I’m going to kill him.
“You don’t see shit,” I spit, so angry, I’m shaking. And swearing. That only ever happens when I’m seconds away from going postal. “You’re so twisted up in Selena, in her manipulative mind games, that you don’t see anything except negativity and spite.”
He screws up his face in disgust. “I don’t give a flying fuck about Selena. That bitch is nothing to me.”
Planting fists on my hips, I jut my chin. “You’re a liar.”
Zeke raises his eyebrows in challenge. Taking a step forward, he growls, “Already told you once and sure as fuck won’t say it a third time. I. Don’t. Lie.”
The air crackles with tension—some of it pleasurable, a lot of it cruel. It’s so multifaceted, so complex, I can barely see right from wrong anymore. But I’ll be damned if I let this man corrupt me.
My voice is strong and sure. “You saw her during Heathen’s set.”
“So? Doesn’t mean I—”
“You were pissed off when she introduced Benedict.”
“That’s because—”
“You wanted to beat him to death.”
“He’s a fucking—”
“You let Selena put her hands all over you.”
“Shut up and let me—”
“And you shamed me in front of them!” I yell.
Silence.
That’s right, asshole. I fucking see you.
Zeke’s eyes are intense, full of truths he won’t say. And it hurts. His palpable reserve conveys more than words ever could.
Turning, he roars, kicking the tower of boxes. They crash to the ground with a deafening clatter.
“You need to stay away from me,” I warn his heaving back. “If it’s not music related, I don’t want anything to do with you.”
Eyes downcast, he runs his fingers through his hair, tugging the ends. And my stupid heart, the one that screamed for me to say the words, starts crying because I did.
Turning, I wrench open the door and leave.
It doesn’t take long to make my way outside, and it takes even less time for Shiloh, Drake, and Reid to find me. I’m leaning against a brick wall, freezing my ass off while staring at the stars. They’re hard to see, blanketed by the city lights and thick clouds. I can barely make out three of them. For some reason it makes me inexplicably sad. I sniff, rubbing icicles posing as hands up and down my arms in an attempt to generate some warmth.
“Told you she was out here,” Drake calls over his shoulder.
Shiloh and Reid nod, striding to where I’m standing, concern etching their features.
Drake rests a heavy hand on my shoulder. “What happened? We saw you run out of the after-party, and then Zeke blew up at some chick before following you.” He scans the empty street as though expecting to find him. “What happened?”
“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Shivering, I rub my biceps faster.
Reid crosses his arms, both tattoo sleeves coming alive with the movement. He narrows his eyes at me. “Wil.”
I blink. Over and over again. “I’m fine.”
“Shit, you’re gonna cry,” Shiloh murmurs. “You’re doing that thing with your eyes. You only ever do it when the dam’s about to break, and judging by the number of repetitions, I’d say this is a category nine situation.”
I choke back a sob, my palms a whir.
“What did she say to you?” Reid demands.
“Yeah, and who was she?” Shiloh chips in, halting my manic movements with her hands. Thankfully, they’re warm. “You’re one of the most chill people I know. She must have been a total whore to upset you.”
“I’m not upset. I—”
Reid tips his head, calling bullshit.
“Who was she?” Shiloh repeats.
Sighing, I swallow the lump in my throat and stare at my scuffed shoes. “Zeke’s ex-wife.”
“What?” Drake coughs. “Fuck me, he moves fast. Dude was all over your tits last night.”
Taking a deep breath, I meet his eyes.
He stares at me, realization dawning. “Get the fuck out. You like him?”
“He was all over your tits?” Shiloh shrieks.
Even though he’s motionless, fury rolls off Reid.
“You told me nothing was going on between you two.” My best friend lets go of me, the hurt in her voice obvious. “Why did you lie to me?”
“I’m sorry, okay? Hooking up with Zeke was a moment of insanity, and whether I like him or not, it’s never going to happen again.” Facing Drake, I nod. “And, ah, yeah. He was married.”
Drake steps away, groaning. “Jesus, Wil.”
Pushing off the wall, I pace. The frigid wind whips my cheeks, and even in the relative darkness of the side street, I’m certain they’re pink. “Look, they divorced before we started recording, so it’s not like he was cheating or anything. And I’m not justifying our actions here. I’m explaining them. Massive difference.”
“Does she know about you and Zeke?” Drake asks.
“There is no me and Zeke!”
His eyebrows raise. “A bit heavy on the protest, don’t you think?”
Pausing, I narrow my eyes at him.
“Does she know?” Shiloh asks.
On a loud exhale, a cloud of frost materializes before me. “I don’t know. She insinuated Zeke and I were hooking up, but then flaunted the fact she had something going on with Heathen’s manager.” Shaking my head, I mutter, “The chick’s crazy.”
“And what about Zeke?” Shiloh asks. “Does he know it’s over between you?”
“Hell yes. I couldn’t have made it clearer if I wrote it on a cake and shoved his face in it.”
Drake nods, seeming appeased. Shiloh gives a half smile, somewhat satisfied. However, Reid is thoughtful. “We need to watch out for this woman,” he muses. “From what you’ve told us, she sounds volatile as fuck. Who knows what she’ll do when threatened?”
“Threatened?” I scrunch my nose, my body shivering. “Why would she feel threatened?”
Reid’s gray eyes turn soft. “Because you’re you, Wil.”
I blink.
“Any man with half a brain knows what you’re worth.” Drake grins. “You’re honest, intelligent, loyal, gifted. Not to mention cute as fuck. I feel like we’ve been over this. You’re not turning into one of those insecure chicks, are you?”
Throwing my head back, I growl, “What is it with people calling me cute? I’m a force of nature, damn it, not cute.”
Chuckling, Drake throws his arm around my shoulders. “Sure you are, babe. Sure you are.”
I try to pinch his flat stomach, but my fingers are unresponsive. “Quit calling me babe.”
He laughs harder. “See? Even feisty Willow is cute. You’re like a ginger kitten.”
Groaning, I give up and bury my head against his warm chest. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re freezing. Come on, let’s call an Uber. You need a hot shower and some of that tea I hate. You know, the one that smells like a flower threw up in it.”
“Chamomile?”
“Yeah, that one.” He faces Reid. “You coming?”
Reid shakes his head. “Nah, I’m staying at Shiloh’s.”
Stepping toward Shiloh, I murmur, “Forgive me?”
Rolling her eyes, she pulls me into a hug. “Of course, I forgive you. Just quit with the lies already. They only ever fuck people over.” She gestures to Reid. “I should know. I tried keeping shit from my band, remember?” Shaking her head, she murmurs, “Caused a fuck-ton of trouble.”
I nod. “Yeah, I remember.”
We exchange goodbyes and soon enough Reid and my best friend are strolling hand in hand down the side street.
I sigh, refusing to dwell on the fact I’ll have to face Zeke in the morning. “Must be nice having someone to go home to.”
“Depends on who it is, I suppose,” Drake mumbles, tapping away at his phone. “I sure as fuck wouldn’t want to go home to a troll. Lucky for Reid, he’s found the love of his life.”
“Yeah, lucky.”
As we move to the main road, my thoughts drift to the man I left behind. The contradictory, confusing, infuriating storm. I’ve made the right decision. My head knows this even though my body hasn’t received the memo. But my heart…. I rub the dull ache throbbing in my chest. My poor heart is bleeding.