“What the fuck do you want?” I crack open my bedroom door enough to meet Coy’s angry snarl.

“Where is she? She’s here.” He has the audacity to storm into my room and start throwing pillows and sheets off of the bed. He turns toward the closet but I block his path. “Where is she? You fucked my girlfriend, you piece of shit!” He shakes his fist in my face, but I don’t flinch.

“I didn’t fuck her,” I grate through my teeth. Last night with Jess wasn’t fucking; it was worship. We weren’t having sex; we were making love. Every touch on her skin was another way of proving to her how beautiful she is. I don’t clarify that to Coy.

“Fucking liar!” he seethes, and his hands go straight to my throat.

“Get. Out.” The words spit from my mouth as I struggle to break free from his hold. He’s strong, I’ll give him that, but I’m in damn good shape. I get in one good knee to his balls, but that only earns me an elbow to the kidney. We scrap around, finally banging into the wall so hard that the portrait I bought from the fundraiser slips off its hook and tumbles from the bed to the floor.

“You’re gonna pay, dipshit. Where is she?” Coy puffs through labored breath, and the stench of alcohol and stale cigs hits my face. He’s still sloshed, and I can only hope to work that to my advantage.

“She’s not here, dumbass.” I shove him and he trips over a pillow and falls flat on his ass.

“I’m going to . . .” He lunges off the floor but I skirt him before he catches my legs.

“What? Whatcha gonna do?” I egg him on, fully pissed that he not only interrupted my sleep but my snuggle time with Jess. He has no right to burst into my room like this, or even come after her after what he did. “You’re gonna what? Beat me the way you do her?”

“Fuck you!” He slams forward with more speed than I anticipate and knocks me to the floor.

“What the hell! Sean! Coy! Knock it off!” Trent rushes into the room but he can’t get between us. We roll around, sneak in cheap shots, and grapple for the upper hand.

“Dude! Stop already!”

“I’m not gonna let the fucker go. Not till he tells me where Jess is.” Coy’s breath stinks like ass and only boils my blood further.

“Go. To. Hell,” I spit out between several hits.

“That’s enough!” Jess’s shout freezes Coy for a moment. Even with the curtains drawn and lights off there’s enough light from the hallway to illuminate her profile.

As soon as he catches sight of her in my bathroom doorway—her hair a mess and wearing my clothes—he turns on me with a surge of vengeance. “You fucker!” His right hook connects with my face. “You said you didn’t fuck her!” An elbow to my gut knocks the air right from me. “You’re going to pay!”

“Enough! Stop!” Austin and Trent catch his arms and heave him off of me. They force him closer to the door, but I’m not sure if the space is meant to protect me or him.

With my ego wounded, I wipe blood from my face with the back of my hand, stand, and squint through a quickly swelling eye.

Trent doesn’t let up on Coy even though he’s stopped fighting against him. “Let’s all just calm down here. I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding.”

Coy lifts his chin at me. “Yeah, Sean, give me a reason I shouldn’t kill you right now. Why the fuck is my girl wearing your clothes? Why’s she in your room?”

I grate my jaw back and forth, meeting everyone’s stares.

Jess let’s her hair fall forward and it hides the evidence of Coy’s wrath. As if she doesn’t want the guys to see. She gives a little shake to her head, but I can’t let this go.

I can’t let him off for what he’s done.

“Oh, you want to play show and tell? She might be in my clothes, but you wanna explain her face? The bruises she’s wearing this morning?”

Coy lunges, but thankfully, Austin and Trent have a good hold.

Austin rolls his eyes. “Not helping, Sean.”

“Oh, what? That’s not helpful? Exposing him for the woman abuser he is?” The words fire from my mouth but still I don’t feel any source of relief.

“You have no fucking clue what you’re talking about.” Coy growls as if that will intimidate me enough to shut up.

“I think I do.” I take a step forward.

“Stop. Stop it!” Jess’s shout pulls my stare back to her. Her gaze bounces between Coy and me. “Stop talking about me like I’m not here.”

“Did you fuck him, Jess?”

Her eyes find mine, and for that I feel like I’ve won.

“If I find out you fucked him, I will kill him!” Coy roars.

“Let’s not go overboard here. No one is killing anybody.” The warning leaves Trent’s lips and Coy breaks free, hurtling toward me.

“Oh, fuck,” Austin groans.

Coy barrels right in my face, but I stand my ground. He thinks I’ll run? Not with Jess here. He can beat me to a pulp because I’m not backing down. His fist clenches the fabric of my shirt and his other cocks back for what’s sure to be the most painful hit of my life. He wants to hurt me, and I’m okay with that as long he doesn’t touch her.

I glance at Jess and dread fills my gut. Her eyes don’t hold the light they did last night and as she drops her gaze to his, a dreadful anticipation fills my gut before she even speaks a word.

“No, Coy. I didn’t. Sean let me stay here last night. Because you hurt me.” Her gaze stays with his and she steps forward until her hands cover his fist. As soon as she does he drops his hold on me.

“Jess, I’m so sorry, baby.” He reaches for her and I expect her to shrink back. I expect her to push him away, or step out of reach. But she doesn’t do any of that. Confusion and hurt burst in my chest as she allows him to pull her into his arms. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry,” he chants over and over.

“I know,” she whispers. “I know, Coy.”

“Sean.” Trent places his hand on my shoulder and drags my gaze from the couple. I can’t believe what I’m witnessing. I can’t believe she’d forgive him. Not after last night. Not after all we’ve shared.

I can’t even breathe.

My heart literally breaks.

My vision clouds from beneath my tears and I have to turn away. “Get out.” The command doesn’t even sound like my own voice. “Get the fuck out of my room.”

“Sean?” Jess’s voice begs that I turn around but I can’t bear to look at her.

“Just go.” I stomp over to the photograph that fell and pick it up only to find the canvas sliced down the middle. Fucking Coy. He ruins everything. I don’t try to fix or hide it, just hang it back on the wall.

“Sorry about the misunderstanding. And your picture.” But Coy doesn’t sound the least apologetic. He got everything he wanted. He has Jess. And that hurts more than any punch to the face or ruined photograph. She deserves him too, if she’s so willing to go back into the arms of a monster. I wait for the shuffle of their footsteps to leave the room before I turn around.

Trent’s there, his gaze somber. “Sean?” He lifts his chin and gives a nod.

I glance down at my arms to see they’re streaked with blood. Probably all mine. I touch my lip with my tongue and taste the metallic, salty tang before wiping it with the back of my hand.

“I told you not to get in the middle of it . . . that it wouldn’t be good.” Trent runs his hands through his hair and pushes it back behind his ears. He wanted to avoid this. I understand the concern, but the apprehension in his eyes only makes this worse. I went head to head with Coy for Jess, and it didn’t change a damn thing. It’s worse, actually, now that I’ve experienced just how good we are together, and that still wasn’t enough for her to choose me over him.

“Are you okay?” Is he referring to physical pain or that of my heart? Doesn’t matter. The answer’s the same.

“No, I’m not.” My gaze goes to the open door. I still can’t believe she walked out with him. How she could do that, after everything he’s done to her? “Can you just leave me alone?”

Trent nods and his lips form a straight line. “If you need anything, come find me. When everyone’s calmed down, we need to sit down and have a band meeting. We’ll work this out.” He turns and his shoulders slump with an exhale. Defeat? Disappointment? I should ask. I should care. But all that runs through my head is the look on Jess’s face as she met my stare and told Coy last night meant nothing. It’s great that Trent thinks we can move past this, because honestly, I don’t see how in the fuck that’s gonna happen.

* * *

How does one survive living one door down from the woman he loves after she chooses someone else? I don’t fucking know, and I’m sure as hell not doing it right. This hurts like fucking hell and I can’t find it in me to care about anything right now—her; the band; even myself. Everything is not all right, and I don’t know how to make it better.

I hid in my room on Sunday because I didn’t trust myself around the others. Everything felt hopeless and pointless, and I sure as shit didn’t trust myself around Coy. But this was my house, too. Hell, I was in the band first. Who did he think he was coming into my life and fucking shit up? So, after licking my battered ego in solitude, I woke up Monday with a plan. I would push every-fucking-one of Coy’s buttons until he proves what a bastard he really is. Oh, and I wasn’t giving up on Jess. Not yet.

Taking a longer route, I knock out an eight mile run and head into the backyard. I need to speak with Jess. To ask the hard questions. If she’s done with me, really done, then I have to walk away. But if there’s some chance for us, however slim it might be, then I will do whatever it takes to prove how good we can be.

My skin drips with sweat and I pull off my shirt as I make my way around the corner to her usual spot, but she’s not there. Disappointment churns at her absence. Another rejection, or is this Coy’s control? Either way, I’m irritated as I push through the back door and head to the kitchen. I grab a box of cereal, fill a bowl, and mix up my protein drink. I’m pissed, and each movement comes with a slam against the counter or cupboard.

“Who shit in your Cheerios?” Austin chuckles as he struts into the kitchen and takes in my scowl.

“Fuck you,” I say through a mouthful of food.

“Oooh. Feisty.” He waggles his eyebrows. “Bring that energy to practice.”

I’m not amused, and though I realize he’s receiving the brunt of my frustrations merely because he’s in the wrong place at the wrong time, I can’t seem to care. I lift my middle finger, finish my cereal, and drop the bowl into the sink with a slam that surprisingly doesn’t break the ceramic.

“Jeez, I’m only fucking with you. Don’t have to be a little bitch,” he grumbles, but I don’t glance back, stomping up the stairs and straight to my shower. My sour mood is a direct result of not starting my day with a dose of Jess. Our conversations grew to mean so much more than a simple interaction; I don’t want to start my day any other way.

As I wash away the sweat from my body, worry pricks at my mind. I hope she’s not hurt. She’s surely not safe with Coy, though he’s more likely just hiding her from me. Either way, I need to know. I need to see her for myself, and I need to speak with her alone. She won’t answer with an audience, but I need to hear the truth from her lips. I dry off and change into clothes for the day before heading down to the practice studio a few minutes late.

“So nice of you to show up.” Austin rolls his eyes at my approach. “Still in a bad mood? ’Cause that’ll make today fun.”

“Bedo here yet?” I ask Trent, but I can feel Coy’s glare at my back.

“Nope,” Trent says with a weary stare.

“Good.” For the first time since Saturday my lips pull into a smile. I stomp over to the fridge, take out two bottles of craft beer and pop off the tops. “Thirsty.” I glance at Trent, hold out the bottle, and tip it sideways. The contents splash and splatter all over the floor.

“What the hell is wrong with you? That’s a fucking waste of good beer!” Trent yells.

Austin’s brows rise. “Are you tripping?”

“What? Does this bother you?” I throw the bottle against the far wall and satisfaction fills my veins as it shatters into tiny fragments. Picking up the second bottle, I open my mouth and let the liquid pour down the front of my body. “How about now?”

“Yeah, it fucking bothers me.” Trent shakes his head as if I’ve lost my goddamn mind. I probably have.

“Fucking hell.” Bedo rushes down the stairs and stops short when his gaze lands on the mess I’ve made. “What the hell happened? I was only gone for a few days!”

“Just having myself a morning snack.” I walk over to him and snatch the twenty-four ounces of freshly made super greens smoothie from his hand and toss the lid off the biodegradable cup. “This looks yummy.” I tilt it back and miss my mouth, spilling almost all of it down the front of my shirt. “Want some?” I hold it out to my bandmates’ stunned faces.

Bedo rips the cup from my hand and points at the stairs. “Go clean yourself up. Fuck, kid. And get your head straight.”

“Whatever.” I act put off and strut out of the room. “Y’all aren’t any fun.”

I jog up the stairs with a stupid smile on my face. It was almost too easy. We are, after all, creatures of habit, and there hasn’t been a day this month that Bedo hasn’t come downstairs with one of his healthy smoothies. The thrill of finally seeing Jess, in spite of how much she hurt me, brings a bounce to my step and I walk right past my door until I arrive at hers. I knock softly and try the handle but it’s locked. I try again.

“Hello?” I can hear the sleep in her voice.

“It’s Sean.”

“Go away, Sean. You can’t be here.”

“Please, just give me a minute. I want to talk.”

She opens the door, just a crack. Her lips part on an exhale and their perfect shape begs for my kiss. Her eyes widen and I can imagine I look crazy covered in greens. “Sean, what—?”

Amidst her confusion, I push the door open until I can slip inside. I turn and lock it, just in case, and as much as I only meant to come here to talk, I can’t help but allow my hands to feather along her bare arms and up to her jaw. She gasps. Those luscious lips part with desire, and it breaks what little is left of my control.

My lips crash onto hers, not gently or soft, but in a demanding need to convey how much she makes me feel. How her hurt only forces me to be more vulnerable, and she didn’t push me away. She couldn’t. I’m lost to her.

Her mouth moves against mine, pushing our kiss deeper and harder until my back is against the door. Her hands dip under my shirt and shove the material out of the way but it sticks to my skin.

“What? Why?” She steps back, out of breath, and scrunches her forehead.

“This?” I pull at the ruined tee shirt. “A smoothie a day keeps the doctor away.”

“Aren’t you supposed to drink it?” Her lips part and she shakes her head.

I’m pretty damn proud of myself and my lips quirk up with my smile. “I needed a diversion.”

“Coy.”

His name ruins everything. My lips tug into a hard line. “Forget Coy. I needed to see you. To talk to you.” I try to take a step forward but she stops me with her hand.

“Sean, we can’t do this. If he finds out—” She squeezes her eyes shut.

“Fuck him,” I grate through my teeth and her eyes snap open with surprise. “I don’t care what Coy thinks. I’m more worried about what you think. Yesterday—”

She shakes her head. “It was a mistake, Sean. We took things too far. I shouldn’t have drunk that much.”

No. She will not blame this on alcohol. No way. “Don’t blame it on the Jameson. I know you weren’t that drunk.”

“I was.” She raises her brows and crosses her arms over her chest. Maybe she thinks I’ll back down. That I’ll give her space. That’s not gonna happen this time.

“You weren’t. You felt every bit of my cock pulsing inside of you.” I close the space between us and trace her hips with my hands.

“Sean, don’t.” She drops her gaze as if it pains her to hear. As if it doesn’t hurt me to say it.

“Don’t what? Remind you how good it was? How you fell apart at my fingers. With my mouth.”

Her chin lifts and gaze narrows. “It can’t happen again.”

“Jess, it can. That’s why I’m here. We could be together. We can. I’ll take care of you. If you would only—”

She steps back, one step and then another until the gap between us feels miles wide. “Don’t ask me—”

“Leave him.” If there’s a way to beg, plead, and demand everything with those two words, I give it my all.

Her scowl falls to one of pity. “Sean . . .”

“No, don’t say my name like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you feel sorry for me. I know you feel more. I know we’re good together. I want you, Jess, but not as some dirty little secret.”

Her lower lip trembles from where her teeth bite against it and her gaze drops. “I can’t.”

It’s not the response I want and I bristle at her words. “Why?” I need to know.

“I just can’t okay?”

“Help me. Tell me.” I close the space between us and take her hands. “Explain to me why that son of bitch gets to be with the most precious woman on Earth and treat her like garbage. Why I have to stand by and watch?”

“I’m not . . .” She tries to tug her hands back but I don’t let her. “You don’t understand. You never could.”

“Try me. Please, Jess. Explain it to me and I’ll leave you alone. I’ll let you live your life however you want, but just tell me why you’re with Coy.”

I don’t know if she will. I can almost see the war inside her. “You think I’m good but I’m not.”

“You are good, Jess. You just can’t see it.”

“Or you can’t see the dirt. I’m not so pretty, believe me. The things I’ve done . . . I’m not proud of them. I’m not proud of myself. Do you know what it’s like to be so hungry and so tired, and so damn dirty that it doesn’t matter anymore? That you’ll do anything because everything is so effed up you can’t make it any worse?”

I hate that she does this. That her view is warped from her past. “But that isn’t you. You don’t see what I see.”

She yanks out of my hands and stabs a finger into my chest. “No, Sean. You don’t see me! Not for who I was. If you did, you wouldn’t like me.”

“Try me.” Crossing my arms, I settle back against the door and wait.

“Sean, it’s not something I like to remember.”

“Give me the benefit of the doubt. Try me. Because there is nothing—nothing—you can do or have done that will change how I think of you.”

“I did things. Things I’m not proud of to survive.”

I shrug, getting the gist of where she’s going with this. “You’re strong. You did what you had to.”

“You make it sound glamorous. It’s not. I sold my body to men. I did whatever they wanted.”

As much as it shocks me because I can’t imagine my Jess in such a role, it doesn’t surprise me. She’s a fighter. She did what she needed to get by. “Did you have another choice?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you have another job that could make ends meet?”

She meets my stare and her lips press into a hard line. “I don’t even have a birth certificate. I wasn’t getting a job. Not a legal one.”

“Why don’t you have a birth certificate?”

“I ran away when I was sixteen.” Her jaw works back and forth as if it physically hurts to spit out her next words. “I had to. The environment I was in . . . it wasn’t living. I was made to do things, only I didn’t get paid for them. Then there was an accident. It was my out.

“I couldn’t do another foster home. Maybe I should have stayed, but I couldn’t. It was killing me. At least on the street I made money for selling my soul.” Her shoulders droop and her gaze lands at my feet.

I reach out, take her hand, and squeeze. “I’m so sorry you went through that.”

“Don’t be. It was my choice. It’s not something I’m proud of, but Coy . . . Coy found me. It was a night when things were more than horrible and I was planning to end it all. I couldn’t do it anymore. I was on my way up five flights of stairs, and Coy was on his way down. He stopped me, took me to dinner, and things were never the same after that.” There’s a fondness in her voice when she speaks his name that I can’t stand.

I hate that she feels tied to him. That she owes him, but this finally explains her willingness to take whatever shit he feeds her.

“Coy took me in when I was homeless. I didn’t have a job. I didn’t have money. I didn’t have clothes beyond those on my back, and he took care of me.”

It all clicks. “So now you take care of him.”

She breathes out a heavy breath and meets my gaze. “You understand, then.”

No. Not at all, but that’s not what she needs to hear. I don’t understand how something he did then overrides all the shit he does now. It’s not fair for someone so cruel to not have any clue of the gem he holds in his arms. Or maybe he does only he’s too damn selfish to let her shine for others. For herself. And she’s so damn clueless to the power she holds. In her kindness, her gentleness, in her capacity to love and give freely without expectation.

“And now, with him, is that a way to live?”

She shakes her head. “Don’t.”

“I can’t not. Jess, you deserve better. Better, I can give you.”

“It’s not so simple.” Her eyes search my face for an answer but I don’t know the question. All I know is I can’t sit around here anymore. Waiting. Hoping. Coveting something that isn’t mine.

“I’m leaving,” I blurt.

“What?” Her eyes widen.

“For a few days. I need to clear my head.”

“Because of me.” She chews on her bottom lip.

It makes me wish I could touch her, hold her, and kiss her swollen lip. But I can’t. “Because of how much I feel for you.”

“I see.” Her eyes always hold so much depth, and now, especially now, I wish they didn’t.

“Don’t do that.” I scoff and reach for the door handle.

“What?”

“Look as though you wished we’d never—”

“Sometimes I do. Right now I do.”

“Damn it, Jess.” She regrets sleeping with me. She regrets me. But I don’t her, and if that makes me a selfish bastard, so be it. The sad thing is, I’m happy to have had one night with her rather than none at all.

“You don’t understand.” She’s back on that again, but all I can do is hold on to hope.

I turn the lock and inch open the door, but before I step out of the room I meet her worried stare. “You said sometimes?”

She nods.

“So, sometimes . . . sometimes are you happy we were together?”

Her eyelids drift shut and her lips form a frown. “More than I ever should.”

Thank God. “Good.”

“It’s not good, Sean. It’s horrible.”

“It’s enough for me.” I step out of the room she shares with Coy and cross over to mine. “I’ll see you in a few days.”

“Where are you going?” Her body fills her doorframe and she regards me with an expression I can’t quite name.

I take in how beautiful she is without any effort or makeup. I memorize her in this moment, even if she’s not mine. She’s the very reason for my impromptu trip. “Someplace that helps me remember who I am.”

* * *

I don’t go back to the studio. Instead, I take a shower and book a flight to my parents’, then shove everything I need into a bag. It really isn’t much. The photograph on the wall hangs as a reminder of everything that went down and how she won’t leave. The rip through the canvas cuts the polished beauty of the portrait, but I can’t bear to throw it away. It’s damaged but I have hope it can be repaired.

I glance in the mirror and the black eye makes me appear every bit as battered as my soul feels. I pull on a ball cap and pair of dark shades and pray the press doesn’t spot me at the airport. With one last look behind, I sling my bag over my shoulder and head downstairs.

“Hey, where are you running off to?” Trent calls from down the hallway.

With a heavy sigh, I meet his stare. “My parents. I’ll miss a few days of practice.”

He walks over, his palms up and gaze narrow. “Wait, what? I was only joking. Everything okay with them?”

“They’re fine.”

“So, you’re leaving because . . .” He tips his chin upstairs.

My jaw works back and forth a few times. I was attempting to sneak out—like a fucking coward—but I don’t know how to explain this without letting down my bandmates. “I need some space to get my head straight.”

“Sean . . .” He pinches his lips together and runs a hand through his hair. “Please tell me we still have a drummer. That you didn’t really fuck his woman. Sean, we leave in two weeks.”

“I know, and I didn’t fuck her.” We made love. Omission is still a form of lying, but it won’t do anyone any good if I fess up now. Besides, Jess made her choice. “I don’t like him, Trent. I more than don’t like him.”

“He’s not that bad. I mean, he did think you slept with his girl. I’d freak, too.”

I can’t believe he’s giving Coy a pass. “You’ve seen the way he treats Jess. How he speaks to her. You’d never do any of that shit to Lexi.”

He nods with wide eyes. “Cause we all know she’d beat my ass.”

“This isn’t a joke, Trent.”

“Sorry. And no, I don’t love the way he treats his girl, but that’s not my biggest problem right now. We need a drummer. We can’t do any better than Coy.”

“So, we just look the other way? Excuse his behavior?” I clench my jaw and let my frustration loose with a growl. I’d rather scream instead. “You’re suggesting we all pretend we don’t know, like we did with Iz?”

He rears back. “Isn’t the same thing and you know it. Drug addiction rates a bit higher than jerk boyfriend, don’t you think?”

Do I think that? I don’t know. I can’t rate one transgression against another. Is what I did—sleeping with Jess when Coy wasn’t out of the picture—as immoral as looking away while one of my bandmates gets high? Or while one beats his girlfriend with his fists and tears her down with cruel words? Being with Jess felt one hundred percent right, and I know that’s wrong. Even still after everything, I wouldn’t take it back.

“This is why I’m going away for a few days.” That, and Jess doesn’t want me. She wants him, the bastard who treats her like shit. I don’t know how to stand by and watch it.

“Not your girl. Not your problem.”

“I care about her.”

“I know.” He shuts his eyes and shakes his head before meeting my steady gaze. “It’s fucking obvious as the sun, and it’s gonna torch our entire band if you’re not careful.”

But with Jess, I don’t want to be careful. I want to fucking burn. I’ll do whatever so her flames lick my skin. The pain of that would be better than my worst fear . . . of not knowing her at all. “I better head out. My ride is almost here.”

He shoves his hands into his back pockets. “Tell your parents I said hi.”

“I will.” I walk past him to the door.

“And Sean?”

I stop and look over my shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Don’t make any decisions we’ll all regret. Come back, okay? I’ll deal with Bedo.”

I meet his concerned stare and nod because I have no intention of quitting the band, or not coming back. That’s not why I’m leaving. What worries me most is that I will come back, and I will watch what’s left of Jess’s radiance get snuffed out by each cruel word and manipulative move. I’ll stay and I’ll watch and I’ll do nothing about it. It won’t only eat her up, but it’ll ruin me as well. And I’ll take it all, gladly, to be near her. For the slim fucking chance he screws up so badly, or she comes to her senses and maybe, just maybe, she’ll choose me next. Even I realize how fucked up that is.