13: CONSEQUENCES
We’re partway through a terrible gross-out comedy when my phone erupts again. I half-expect another furious message from Miranda, but it’s worse.
Jacob.
“I’ll be back,” I mutter to Hannah, and rise from the couch. “What’s up, man?” I say into the phone.
“You tell me.”
I glance toward the couch and retreat farther down the hall at the tension in his voice.
“Huh?”
“Let me read you a headline the Label just jammed down my throat. ‘Platinum-selling Canadian rock band calls it quits after ten years.’”
Oh shit.
“The Label is wondering why they’re the last to know. I just got off the phone with Holland and the funny thing is, it appears she’s actually the last to know. What the hell, Wes?”
“Wait, you think I—”
“‘I heard Wes discussing their issues with his manager. He sounded really tense,’ said Mr. Alton’s former girlfriend on the condition of anonymity. ‘I think something happened on their last tour to cause the split.’”
“That’s all bullshit, Jacob! You know that.”
“Do I? Who is this woman?”
“How can anyone even take this seriously? She wants to remain anonymous? What the hell is that?”
“It’s a tabloid. They sell stories, not truth.”
“Well, then we need to sue their asses. Along with Miranda, because it’s not true.”
“Miranda? Is that the ex-girlfriend?”
“She was never my girlfriend. I went out with her a few times. I barely knew her.”
“And she overheard a conversation with me?”
I lean my head against the wall. “Yeah, maybe, I don’t know. I didn’t think she could hear me. Still, at no point did I say we were breaking up the band. Miranda made that up. I told her the opposite. That we were working it out.”
“Wait, so you had a highly controversial and private discussion in front of a stranger? And then elaborated on it?”
“It didn’t go down like that. Everyone was hounding me. You, Holland, I don’t know! I just answered the damn phone and next thing I know she’s stalking me.”
FUCK.
“Hold on, what? This woman was stalking you?”
“Look, never mind. I finally got rid of her and the leak is retaliation. Let’s just call PR and figure out how to fix this.”
The silence on the other end is not a good sign. Jacob only stops running his mouth for one reason. He’s too pissed to form words.
“It’s way past that, Wes. PR can’t fix your broken relationship with Holland. Like I said, I just got off the phone with her. This mess is exactly why she wants protections in place. You’ve pushed her to the edge. Sign the damn contract or she’s moving on.”
His side of the connection goes dead this time.
Worst part? I don’t disagree with a thing he said.
∞∞∞
It’s the day of role reversals. A tap on my bedroom door is followed by a “you okay?” and my brain scrambles for a believable lie. Sometimes the best lie is the truth.
“That was our manager.”
Hannah drops beside me and joins my staring contest with the floor.
“It sounded rough.”
“These walls, man. I need to get them soundproofed.”
“Or just stop accepting nosey strays into your place.”
“You’re the only one I accepted. Miranda forced her way in.”
Her weak smile doesn’t help. “So she got you in trouble? That was fast.”
“She got me in a shitload of trouble.”
“Like?”
“Like, telling the world Tracing Holland broke up.”
“Wow. I bet your Label isn’t happy.”
“An understatement. I don’t know, Han. Trouble just follows me.”
“It’s an alpha thing.”
“Whatever.”
She returns my smirk, and we study the floor again.
“You and Holland will figure it out. You always do,” she tells the darkness.
I stall my instinctive nod. For twenty years that was true. “It feels different this time. I really screwed things up.”
“Maybe.”
My lips twist into a smile. “That’s it? That’s your pep talk?”
“That’s all I’ve got. Isn’t this when you go to the gym to blow off testosterone steam?”
“Actually. That’s a great idea.”
I push myself up and move to the closet.
“Wow. I didn’t realize you were so vain,” she says as I pull out my running shoes. Funny how my “vanity” doesn’t stop her gaze from traveling over my body as I peel off my shirt. I take my time finding a new one, loving how my skin blisters from her stare. A rigid, pulsating blaze radiates from her as well.
“Jerk,” she says.
“Diva.”
“I hate you.”
I finally pull on another tee and wink on my way past her. The truth is, part of me wouldn’t mind blowing off steam in other ways right now.
∞∞∞
“Where are you, Wes? Answer your damn phone!”
I listen to the message from Holland as soon as it deposits in my voicemail. Then, I listen again—just to make sure I didn’t miss anything in the four-second clip. No, she’s definitely beyond pissed.
I counteract the effect of her voice with extra energy on the weights, but I can’t call her back. I learned from the disaster with Jacob that I don’t have a workable explanation yet. How do you explain Miranda? How do you explain any of the mess my life has become?
I knew she’d call. I came here to figure out how to handle it when she did. But despite a lifetime of learning opportunities, fixing mistakes still isn’t my area of expertise. I ignore another call from my father. One from my brother. And finally, the Label. That comes from one of the private outgoing lines which never means good news.
I add more weight and work another set of reps. Too many, I guess, and I’m forced to drop the bar with an angry huff. I swipe the hem of my shirt over my face and straighten from the bench.
Yes, I see her watching me. She has for days now. Hot as hell and glued to the elliptical every time I’m here. She’s never said hi, smiled a few times. I always smile back and this time is no exception. What changes is her approach.
“Hi, I’m Breia.”
“Wes,” I say, taking a swig from my water bottle. I grab a towel and dry off.
“I know. From Tracing Holland, right?”
Right. “Yeah.”
“You’re here a lot.”
“It’s great therapy.”
“I’ve never seen you with anyone, though.”
“I like to work out alone.”
She shifts her weight, gaze sliding over me. “Me too.”
My body’s surprisingly uninterested in this beautiful, half-naked woman. “It’s a great gym,” I say.
“It is. Hey, you want to grab coffee or something?”
No. The answer is actually no.
“Thanks, but I have to get going.”
“Oh. Okay. I just thought, with everything going on... You know, if you needed a friend.”
I don’t even have a response for that. “Thanks, but I’m fine.”
“Good to hear. It’s just they’re saying you broke up with—”
I decide to shower at home. “Have a good night.”
∞∞∞
Every. Damn. Time. I have to stop going to the gym.
“Wes. Um, you remember Geoffrey.”
I lock eyes with Hannah, then stare at the man in my condo. Good-looking, I guess. Definite country club stalker.
“Hey, man. What’s up?” I force out, depositing my bag by the door.
“He brought more of my stuff.” Hannah averts her eyes, lower lip clenched between her teeth.
“Got it.” None of my business. I set to work on some coffee while they finish their drama.
“I’m sorry for all of this, Hannah. I’m glad you’re getting help now, but I’m just not equipped to deal with this.” The douche’s lament comes with puppy dog eyes and everything. What a dick.
“I know. Thanks for bringing my stuff back.”
“Keep me in the loop, though. I still care about you so much. Maybe when things get better?”
A creamer packet explodes in my fist. Shit. “Broke one,” I mutter at their glance and grab a paper towel.
“You know, my aunt had a mid-life crisis,” Geoffrey-the-Ex continues. “It was tough for everyone, but she got through it. I can ask her if she has books or anything.”
“Thanks, but I’m good.”
“I worry about you all the time. You have so much potential. I wish there was something I could do to cheer you up.”
“You could leave. That would help,” I offer. Two sets of eyes zoom over to me again, and I shrug.
“How about you stay out of this?” His small shoulders square as much as the stiff button-up shirt allows.
“Geoff, we’re in his condo,” Hannah says, gaze arcing between us.
“Well, you know what? I don’t think I like you staying with this guy.”
I tense, but this idiot is too ridiculous to pound into the floor. Plus, Hannah’s right. It’s my place, so my mess to clean up, and blood stains.
“It’s none of your business where I’m staying. You dumped me, remember?”
“Aw, Hannah, I didn’t dump you. I still want you—us—we just need some time apart while you figure yourself out. Obviously, you have issues you need to work on.”
“Dude, you dumped her. Thanks for the box,” I say, finally stepping between them. The universe has had enough of Geoff.
He glares at me but makes no move to strike. I’m not used to frailty, and I’m a tad disappointed when he mumbles goodbye without so much as a taunt. I have to suppress the urge to storm after him. Just one blow to the jaw, that’s it. Plus, now we’re left to address the bigger problem.
“You invited him over?”
“Are you angry?”
“No, just confused.”
Her eyes search mine, and I sigh. “Hannah, you wanted to hide. How many seconds until your ex calls your parents and repeats that crappy speech to them along with your location?”
“He wouldn’t do that. He loves me.”
“Yeah, and he wants to believe he’s important, that this somehow involves him. He absolutely will.”
“It has nothing to do with him. He just doesn’t get it. None of them do.”
“Exactly.”
She drops to a stool, and I shove a mug across the counter.
“Here. It’s a special blend I found at this little shop on the last tour.”
She stares into the dark liquid. “Will you lie again if my family calls? Tell them I’m not here?”
“Hannah, come on. You honestly think that will work?”
“Fine. What if I pay you to eliminate Geoff before he rats me out?”
“You couldn’t afford me, sweetheart,” I smirk against my own cup.
“He was right, though.”
I lower my mug. “I’m assuming you’re referring to something he said before I walked in, because all I heard was bullshit.”
She quiets and studies her drink again. Then, the slightest turn of her lips. “Maybe I should try his aunt’s books.”
I snort and meet her grin.
∞∞∞
My Drake intuition is flawless. Minutes, if not seconds, pass before the furious phone call from Holland. I’m not even sure what she’s upset about. She’s always understood Hannah’s struggle with depression better than anyone, so it’s not that. I guess it’s the fact that I’m involved in her life again. Even worse, her sister’s life. I get it. On the outside, I wouldn’t want me entangled in my sister’s life either.
“She’s living with you now?”
“She’s crashing here.”
“Same thing!”
“Um, very different. Where else was she supposed to go when the jerk boyfriend kicked her out?”
“How about our parents’ house? God, seriously? With everything else we have going on right now, you add this to the list?”
“I’m not adding anything. Hannah’s battles have nothing to do with ours.”
“She’s my sister!”
“Yeah, and she’s an intelligent, grown woman. Let her fight for herself for once.”
“With you in her corner? Right.”
“You trusted me for twenty years.”
“No, I understood you. I accepted you. I’ve never trusted you. Clearly, I was right not to.”
That one hurts.
“I don’t know what you want me to say. I didn’t ask her to come to me. She showed up. I took her in. End of story. If this is where she wants to be right now, I’m not forcing her hand. She’s had enough of that in her life.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
There’s no good answer to that question. “Nothing.”
She quiets for so long I think she’s gone. “Is this about us?”
“What?”
“Are you trying to get back at me about the dispute? The contract? First the news leak, now Hannah?”
I can barely hold the phone. “Are you serious?”
“Please, Wes. If this is about the band, take it out on me, not my family!”
“Fuck you.” And I hang up.
My blood is pounding, slamming my heart against my chest. It’s painful as I stand there, staring at my phone.
Two slender arms curve around my waist. The pressure from a head settles against my back, and warmth soaks into my skin.
“I’m sorry. Thank you,” are the words that float out. I turn and pull her into my arms.
“We’re gonna figure this out, okay? Just, you have to fix things with Holland. She loves you so much, Han. You have no idea how much.”
“I do, but with me staying here and—”
“No. You’re not using me as an excuse. You are welcome here as long as you need, but I’m a roof, a friend—not an excuse.”
I tilt her head so I can read her response. Blue eyes glisten with unshed tears, pain beyond what she deserves to feel.
My gaze lowers to her lips, inviting in that moment. Slightly apart in an unspoken request for mine. I know why I want hers. I still can’t figure out why she’d want mine after everything.
I pull away. “I need to shower.”
“I want to come with you.”
I freeze as my body reacts with the extra fury it withheld at the gym. I’m not accustomed to this rush. This lack of control.
When her hands slip beneath my shirt it’s over. She tugs the hem, and I help her yank it over my head. I’m all hers as those lips become mine. Hard and aggressive they attack, hungry fingertips pressing into my chest, sliding around to my back, gripping my ass.
I shove against her, testifying what I can offer if she wants it. She gasps in a breath, an irresistible sound for adrenaline as charged as mine.
“Yes, now,” she breathes, dragging me toward my room. “Right now.”
“And the shower?”
“Afterwards.”
∞∞∞
I prop myself up to get the perfect vantage point of her drowsy contentment. “I should evict you. You broke the lease agreement.”
“Yeah? Go ahead.”
I run my finger down her cheek and love watching her eyes close. The peace on her face, security from my presence beside her is such a drug. So many women, and this is the one I can’t stop touching. This woman fucking owns me.
“You hungry?” I ask, finally forcing myself up.
Her hands slide over my shoulders, naked flesh pressed against my back as I sit on the edge of the bed. Am I really getting hard again? Dammit.
“Don’t go yet.” Hot breath sears my neck as smooth arms lock me against her.
“Han, you know I would—”
“And you totally could,” she interrupts with a damn enticing invitation. I groan out the rest of my protest as her attack drives me back to the sheets. It’s her mission, her creativity steering us this time. Her lips snake down my body.
“Shit,” I gasp when she takes me in her mouth, but she doesn’t stop. I press my fists against my eyes, Holland’s scowl fresh in my head. She’d never forgive me for this. Hell, I don’t forgive me for this. It’s… “Hold on... Just…” Oh god. Too late again. Shit!
My weight collapses against cotton as air makes its way back into my lungs, fists pressing stars into my eyes. I push harder at the risk of permanent damage. I’d deserve it too. But somehow I doubt even blindness would provide me any protection from Hannah Drake.
∞∞∞
“I don’t see why you’re beating yourself up.”
“I’m not beating myself up.” A casual lie to go with my casual perusal of the stack of menus. “What do you want for dinner? Indian? Chinese? Thai? Italian?”
“I want to know why two adults who have feelings for each other and insane chemistry can’t indulge it like adults.”
“Because those two adults also share an inextricable attachment to Holland Drake who currently hates one of them.”
“She doesn’t hate you. Holland’s incapable of hate.”
I glance up from my menu search. “I’ve hurt her which is a million times worse.”
“So apologize. Fix it.”
“It’s not that kind of hurt.” I finally have her full attention. “Han, look around you. Look at us! You’re turning me into the responsible one here. Me! That alone should be triggering warning bells in your brain.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means, our ‘insane chemistry’ is just that. We have no idea what it is because we’re both hurting. We’re both fighting to repair each other. We’re taking a totally fucked up situation and making it ten times more complicated by adding another layer.”
“So you don’t have real feelings for me? You just like fucking me? Is that what you’re saying?”
“No, of course not. Of course I care about you. You’re like my little sister—”
Shit. Her face shatters into the entire category of emotions you never want to see on a woman. She doesn’t even bother sorting them before charging from the condo.
I’m quick. Much faster than Hannah because I’m more familiar with the quirks of my building. I know to take the stairs at this time of day and I’m already in the lobby, leaning against a fancy pillar when she steps through the parting doors. I don’t say anything as I watch her startle at my presence.
“Not here. Not now,” she hisses.
“I totally agree. Let’s go back upstairs and figure things out.”
“I’m not going back up with you.”
“No? Where are you going then?”
She quiets.
“The café two doors over has free Wi-Fi. Then again, you left without your laptop. And your phone. And I’m going to guess your wallet and purse. What was your plan again?”
That adorable pout plumps into something dangerously close to a smile. “I hate you. Have I ever told you that?”
“You may have mentioned it on occasion.” I draw in a deep breath. “Han, I’m sorry. This”—I motion between us— “is not what I wanted. I always want you in my life. I always have and I always will.”
“As a sister.”
“As a woman.”
I reach for her and breathe a sigh of relief when she slides into my arms. We don’t care that the doorman is probably enjoying the most action-packed show of his day.
“I’m sorry too,” she whispers. “I keep asking you to be something you’re not.” That hurts until she pulls back and meets my eyes. “But that’s not what I want either. I came to you because I need what you are. I want what you are.”
Her words radiate deep, settle in a void I’ve been ignoring for a long time. “Hmm… I didn’t take you for an alpha kind of woman, Hannah Drake.”
“Don’t alphas expect every woman to want them?”
I laugh and loop my arm around her waist to direct her back to the stairs.