by Kacey Shea
And that I’ve fallen in love with her. That I can’t imagine my life without her. That I never should’ve blackmailed him for this gig, because I can never tell her I’ve betrayed her trust. Or how I can’t bring myself to regret my choices because without them I’d have never met her.
But I don’t say any of those things. Instead I shrug, because acting the aloof and arrogant ass is my best mask. “I’m not a PI. Looks like you’re figuring out who she is just fine without my help.”
He takes a step forward, his voice low as he gets in my face. “Cut the shit, Leighton. Don’t try to tell me you have no fucking clue how a country mouse like her ended up as the personal assistant to a rock star as big as Trent.”
This time it’s easy to lie. “I don’t.”
“You know who she is.” He jabs his finger into my chest.
“I wish I could help you, but I can’t.” I shrug again.
“Can’t or won’t?” His eyes hold mine and he narrows his gaze. “You know, this little arrangement has been mutually beneficial until now, but I’m done. It’s time I had a chat with Opal. I’m sure she’ll be more than willing to spill after she learns exactly who you are and how you’ve been using her.”
“Leave her out of it.” The threat flies from my lips and I grip the collar of my uncle’s shirt, twisting the material along with the knot of his tie. Anger reverberates with every beat of my heart. I can’t lose her. Not now.
“Oh. Oh, Leighton. Bad move.” His lips twist with a bitter smile and he peels my fingers open and away from his throat.
He’s bigger than me. Older, too. But I’ll give him everything I’ve got if he threatens to get between the only true happiness I’ve ever known. “I mean it. Leave her alone.”
“This is better than I imagined.” My uncle steps back and straightens his tie. He meets my stare with a hint of laughter on his lips. “You’re in love with her.”
Yes. I work my jaw back and forth to keep from answering. Shit. I don’t even know exactly when it happened. I’ve been attracted to her from the start, but love? That sucker snuck up on me and I can’t even deny it.
“You are. You’re in love with her.” He laughs as though he’s hit the jackpot. Fucker.
“This isn’t about her. This is between you and me.” I need to set him straight. Keep his focus on the prize. “I told you I’d get you info on the band. Tell me what you need. I’ll find it for you.”
He shakes his head. “I want to know who she is. Otherwise I’ll tell her.”
“You can’t,” I beg. I fucking beg because that’s how much I love her. “Please. Don’t.”
“I will.” All humor is gone and he narrows his glare. Enunciating each and every word. “You have twelve hours. If I don’t hear from you by the time the bus hits Richmond tomorrow, I tell her everything.”
“I hate you.” The words seethe from my lips.
“Everyone does. I’m used to the sentiment.” He shrugs and walks back to the party as if he didn’t blow up my entire world.
I meet Opal downstairs and we share a cab back to the hotel. It’s a short drive but I can’t bring myself to say much. My mind runs with the thousand different ways this relationship goes with Opal, and all of them end badly. I don’t want to lose her. But I don’t know how to keep that from happening.
We walk inside the hotel lobby, which is busy despite the late hour. A crowd gathers at the bar and everyone around us seems happy, joyful, as they celebrate the weekend. I can’t get to the room quickly enough. There’s a need to block out all the noise, both internal and external, I can’t seem to chase.
But inside the room isn’t any better. My head pounds and the clarity I seek isn’t within reach. Because no matter what I do, I’m screwed.
“Hey.” Opal slides her hand down my arm until her fingers thread with mine. “What’s going on?” Her eyes are warm and inviting. Sweet. And completely fucking clueless.
“Nothing.” I shrug away from her touch. I don’t deserve her comfort.
She doesn’t let me off so easy. “You’ve been really quiet all night.”
“Just tired.” I stretch my arm back and rub the tension along my shoulders.
I can feel her gaze on me. Her kindness has always been a balm to the fractured edges of my soul, but now it only heightens my worthlessness. “You sure that’s all?”
“Jesus, Opal, can’t a man just be tired.”
“Sorry.” Her eyes widen as though I’ve struck her and she steps away, wrapping her arms around her waist.
I’m an asshole. I reach for her and though her limbs are stiff, she allows me to pull her close. “I’m sorry. I—” I take a breath to try again. “I . . . I’m—” Words fail me.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk, but don’t lie to me.” Her words hurt more than a punch to the gut.
“I want to tell you, but . . .” I clench my eyes shut, breathe in the scent of her conditioner, and allow the tension to seep from my shoulders.
“It’s okay. We don’t have to talk.” Her arms wrap around my waist and she presses her body to mine. She lifts her chin and her lips deliver forgiveness I don’t merit, but accept anyway.
I’m a bastard, because I could tell her. Come clean. She’s all but given the perfect opportunity. Instead I assault her lips as if it’s the last time she’ll ever kiss me again. It might be. I’m not sure she’ll ever forgive me. Not after what I’ve done or how I’ve hidden this much of myself. If the tables were turned, I wouldn’t.
Instead of confessing my sins, I worship her. I brand myself on her with every sacred touch. We strip each other bare and I lay her out on the bed. We’re on borrowed time, but I make the most of every second. Kissing her, stroking her, loving her with my mouth until she comes.
I climb up her body, but she pushes me to my back. She’s bolder now. This woman isn’t the same girl I met weeks ago. She’s more. And for this moment, she’s mine.
“I want you,” she says. Straddling my hips, she rubs back and forth along my erection. It takes all of my remaining self-control to not push up into her. As much as I want that, to be sheathed in her warmth, I love watching her take control. Set the pace. Make me beg for more.
“Please, baby. Fuck, do you know how sexy you are right now?” The words tumble from my mouth. My hands caress up her thighs to her waist and skim up her chest until her breasts are in my palms. Heavy, full, and fucking amazing. I brush my thumbs across her nipples until they harden.
The moan that escapes her mouth is positively sinful. “Leighton, I want you in me. I want to ride you.”
My hands abandon her breasts to rest at her hips. “Yes, fuck me, baby. Ride me, Opal. Get yourself off on my cock.”
She gasps, her eyes finding mine, then she lifts her hips, positions me at her center and presses back down. “Oh, fuck. Leighton.” My name along with the intense look of pleasure on her face is enough to make me almost blow my load. I bite back the urge to lose myself, because this isn’t about me right now. It’s for her.
But holy fuck, she feels incredible. My eyes widen with the realization of why and I dig my fingers into her skin. “Condom,” I croak out through my tensed jaw. “We need a condom.”
Her eyes meet mine, but she doesn’t move off my cock. If anything, she grinds down harder as her hands rest on my chest. “Can you . . . pull out?” she says breathily. “It just, it feels so good. I don’t want anything between us.”
Fuck me. Her words are loaded and all the more reason I should refuse her request. I always wear a condom. Always. I’m nowhere near ready to be a father. I’ve never chanced it. But why does the idea not cause me to throw her off my dick? Opal carrying my child? That would be amazing.
In a few years.
If we are still together.
“I’ll try,” I say and groan because she immediately begins riding me again. This time she leans back, her breasts bouncing with the rhythm of her hips. I use my thumb to stimulate her already throbbing clit, needi
ng to get her off once more before I come.
She’s intense. Erotic. Beautiful. We fuck, but we’re also making love. Her breaths come faster and she lets go of all inhibitions as she chases her release. I love the way my name falls from her lips as she climaxes.
I think I deserve an award for not coming on the spot.
“Opal, I’m coming.” I shove her hips up and back so she rests on my thighs. I grip my dick and shoot my load onto her belly and that pretty pussy I was just inside. “Fuck. Opal. That was . . .”
“The best sex of your life?” she offers with a satiated smile.
“Undeniably.” I nod, “But I made a mess. How do you feel about a shower?”
She wipes my release with her hand so it won’t drip onto the sheets. “I think that’s a good idea.”
Together we clean up under the warm spray of the water—another first for me. There’s an intimacy in washing each other, even though we spend most of the time laughing like idiots. It’s fucking cold when you’re not the one under the showerhead. After drying off, we don’t bother with clothes. We climb into bed and I pull the covers over both of us to keep warm.
Opal tucks her hand under her pillow and turns onto her side to face me. “Good night.”
“Sweet dreams.” I scoot closer, and my hand finds her hip. I stroke the soft skin there, and watch as her eyelids fall heavy. I study and memorize everything about this moment. The freckles that paint her skin. The soft open pout of her lips as she drifts to sleep. The comfort she takes in the safety of my arms, not knowing that tomorrow everything will change.
My nose burns with the hurt I can’t protect her from and tears well in my eyes. I kiss her forehead and bury my face in her hair. Breathing her in, the sweet scent that will forever remind me of her, I finally allow the tears to fall.
She’s perfect. Pure. Loving.
And soon enough I will change all that.
100
Opal
Last night Leighton loved me as if he was attempting to brand his very soul on mine. Long, languid, and late into the night we came together. Tangled limbs, breathy moans, kisses sweet and passionate did nothing to extinguish the fire of our desire. After we showered, I gave in to utter exhaustion. Only this time when I wake in my hotel room, he’s still here.
“Morning,” he whispers, and just like that I fall in love with the rough sound of his morning voice.
“Were you watching me sleep?” I say with a big grin on my face.
He smiles back. “Yeah.”
I’m not ready to break the bubble of this perfect escape we’ve shared, but there’s a load in time we cannot miss. “What time is it?”
“Eight. We have an hour.”
I nod, both disappointed and excited to get back on the road.
He pushes off the bed and dresses in his clothes from last night. “Coffee?”
“Yes, please.”
He climbs on the bed and claims my lips with a soft kiss. “I’ll run downstairs and get the good stuff.” He winks and pushes to his feet, walking backward toward the door. “Don’t move.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I say, and swoon a little inside. He’s perfect. I’m so lucky.
I climb out of bed to use the restroom, brush my teeth, and pull on a pair of clean underwear. Dressing in a simple tank and cutoff shorts, I realize I never charged my phone. The battery is dead, so I plug it in and sit back down on the bed. Within seconds it powers on and a moment later begins to ring.
It’s Lexi. “Hey, Lexi.”
“Opal! I’ve been trying to get hold of you!” The alarm in her voice prickles my spine with fear. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“What’s going on?” I shove to my feet and pull my phone back from my ear as it pings with a list of missed calls and messages. “I just saw all your texts. Is everything okay?”
“You haven’t seen the news?”
My heart stutters and the pit of my belly fills with dread. I don’t know what it is, but she’s scaring me. “What news? Lexi?”
“I promised I would protect you from all of this. I thought we were being careful, but shit. It must’ve been leaked from the lawyers. I swear to God, I’m going to find out who did this and make them pay.”
“Lexi? What’s happening? I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
“I forwarded you the article. Someone leaked the information. They know. Everyone in the goddamn country knows you’re my sister. I’m so sorry.”
“Oh.” My mouth goes dry and it’s the only response I can manage. I’ve seen how challenging it is to live in the spotlight after these weeks with the band, but my relationship with Lexi is worth it. It’s been exhausting to keep this hidden. I’m proud to be her sister.
But that’s not what nags at the back of my mind. Leighton was acting strange last night. He made love to me with a level of desperation I didn’t expect. Not that it wasn’t good. It was mind blowing, like it always is. But the way he touched me was almost as if he were memorizing my body. He was so passionate, and I assumed he was only showing me how much he loved me.
But now, after this . . .
He wouldn’t do this to me—to us—would he?
“Say something. I’m so sorry. I never meant for you to be thrust into my world. It was selfish really.”
The door swings open with so much force it slams against the wall and there’s Leighton. Alarm and guilt etch in the frown of his brow and I just know. It was him. He’s the only other person who knew.
“Let me call you right back.”
“You’re angry. Hurt.” She has no idea, but it’s not because of her. “I get that. I’m sorry, but I never meant—”
“We’ll work through this.” My gaze trains on Leighton, but the words aren’t meant for him. “Meet in the lobby? Half an hour?”
“Yes. Thank you. Yes. I’ll see you downstairs. I love you.”
“Love you.” The words choke in my throat and I end the call before I cause her any more worry.
Leighton doesn’t move. Hasn’t since the door eased shut behind him with a resounding click. “Opal?”
I trusted him. I told him.
“You leaked the story.”
“I’m sorry.” He lunges forward with several quick steps.
I hold up two hands to stop him from coming any closer. “Don’t.” I can’t think with his touch. I can’t trust myself around him. I can’t believe he did this! Yanking my clothes from the floor and into my duffle bag, the only thing I’m sure of right now is that I have to get out of here. I can’t be here. Not with him.
He stares and I feel the heat of his gaze, but I ignore him. My mind reels with the onslaught of pain, rejection, and anger. Did he even love me? He never said the words, but I understood why he couldn’t. Not with the way he was raised. Not with how he was kept from love. Or was that all an act, too?
“Opal?” He fucking stands there, hands in his back pockets and shoulders tense. He watches as if he’s scared of what I’ll do. He should be. “Where are you going?”
I lift my chin and level my gaze to meet his stare. “I’m going to have breakfast with my sister. Maybe you want to make a call? I’m not sure where we’re going but if you follow me out, I’m sure you can tip off the paparazzi.”
“I wouldn’t—” The agony in his eyes slays me, but I refuse to feel sorry for him. Not after what he’s done. “God, I fucked up. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t need an apology.” I push past him to get to the bathroom and the rest of my stuff.
“Please. Don’t go. Let me explain. I need to explain.”
I turn on him and the pit of my belly fuels with anger. “Why?”
“Because I can’t live without you.” He chokes out the words as if they hurt to say, but his vulnerability doesn’t change the facts.
My jaw locks and I straighten my spine. I glare and stare right through him. I should just leave, but I have to know. “No. Why did you do it?”
“I can’t . . . I made
a mistake. But not the one you think. I should have told you. I should have told you everything. I know that now. I’m a coward. I am.” He runs his hand through his hair and over his back to knead at his shoulders. “You think I don’t know that? You think this doesn’t kill me?”
Hurt gaping and profound slices through me. I open my mouth to speak, but the words don’t feel like mine. “The only thing I know is that you did this, Leighton. You broke this. You. I can’t see around that right now.” I walk past him, and open the door.
“Don’t leave. Please.”
“Save your words. They mean nothing.” And just like that I’m gone.
101
Leighton
I receive word about the emergency band meeting thirty minutes after Opal flees her room. I’m not gonna lie, I consider not showing. Running back to LA with my tail between my legs sounded the best of my options, but I refuse to allow my uncle this pass.
“Leighton, have a seat.”
I’d rather stand, but I take the chair and stare across the room at my uncle. It was him. It had to be.
“The charade’s over, kid. They know. We all know you’ve been dishing to the press.” My uncle passes Trent, Austin, and Sean, who all lean against the wall, glaring, and drops a stack of computer printouts on my lap. I don’t want to flip through them. I can only imagine the content. But morbid curiosity takes hold and I shuffle through the pile. Text messages. Ones I recognize to and from my uncle, but the number isn’t his. Money transfers. Emails. Articles from celebrity tabloids. Total bullshit mixed with the truth. His expertise.
My jaw works back and forth and I nod to the guys. “They know you’re my uncle, too?”
“Yeah.” He narrows his glare. “Which makes all of this worse. We’re family and I trusted you, Leighton. Put my reputation on the line.” If things don’t work out in the music industry, he’ll make a damn fine actor. “As of today, you’re no longer employed by Three Ugly Guys or Off Track Records. Breach of contract. I’m sure you understand.”
