Or can we?
I tune out for a bit as I weigh it all up. If Zeta agreed to do this, she’d be living with us at my Hamptons house while we write and record our new album. I’ve the very best security systems money can buy, and I can increase the security detail. There’s no way he’d be able to get near her while she’s there.
Excitement starts mounting as I think of this as an opportunity. If Zeta was living with me for the next few months, maybe we can reclaim what we lost. If she’s willing to give me a chance, and if she still loves me as much as I love her, I’m prepared to man up and tell her the truth about my past and why I left her eight years ago.
I have the means to keep her by my side now and ensure she’s well protected, something I wasn’t able to do back then. It’s a selfish, risky strategy, because I may have hurt her too much or left it too late, and there’s no guarantee she won’t hate me when she discovers the full extent of the sordid secret from my youth, but I’ve got to give it a try.
Because I’m sick of barely existing. Fed up of missing her to the point of constant pain.
The potential reward is worth the risk, because if it means I have a shot at having her back in my life, then I’ve got to try. I’ll never forgive myself otherwise.
“Let’s see if I’ve got this straight,” she says, yanking me back into the conversation. “You would like me to live with the band, in Ryder’s house”—she spews the words like they’re poisonous—“for the next two to three months, to shadow them as they write and record their new album, and you’d like me to interview them together and separately during that time, to build up a bigger picture of their personal and professional evolvement over the years since the band started.” She hasn’t stopped for a breath, and by the way she’s gesturing wildly with her hands and how her voice is elevating higher and higher with every word, I know she’s severely pissed.
She’s definitely not going to make this easy. But I’ve always loved a good challenge.
“And you want me to part document it for monthly updates in RockOut and then to write a formal biography for worldwide publication,” she adds.
“Yes.” Rod nods, smiling at her as he leans forward on his knees. “That’s about it in a nutshell. Obviously, you would be doing this as a RockOut employee, but we’ve prepared an offer which will pay your employer a lucrative sum for the magazine content, as well as covering your salary and all living expenses for the duration of the project, and you will get full writing credit for the biography. All royalties earned will be divided in the percentages specified between the band and yourself.” He hands her an envelope. “Take your time to peruse the offer, but I think you’ll agree it’s a very generous one.”
She hands it straight back to him. “Thank you, Rod. You’ve been very gracious, but I don’t need to look at it.” She stands. “The answer is no.”
I jump up. “Baby, wait.”
The look she gives me could cut glass. “I am not your baby.”
“You were once.” I dare her to disagree.
“You already fucked her?” Gar interjects, sending me a sour look. He’s always been competitive with me, especially when it comes to women.
“Back the fuck down, Gar. This doesn’t concern you.” I grind my teeth to the molars, as frustration trundles through me.
Zeta turns to Gar. “For the record, he didn’t fuck me. He dumped me before we got the chance.”
“Are you fucking insane, dude?!” he exclaims, waving his hands up and down her body. “At least tell me you fucked her tits.”
I explode, jumping over the coffee table and lunging at him. I swing my fist, landing a right hook on the side of his jaw before Scott and Rod pull me away. Micah is doubled over, laughing like it’s comedy hour. “You’re fucking next if you don’t shut your mouth,” I growl.
“And you.” I jab my finger at Gar. He’s currently nursing a swollen jaw and shooting daggers at me. “Don’t you ever speak about the woman I love like that.”
Yep, I just blurt it out. My mouth has completely disengaged from my brain, and there’s no telling what I’ll say next. The guys emit a few expletives and shocked gasps, but Zeta is tellingly silent. I swing my gaze to her, and she’s schooled her features into a neutral expression so I can’t tell what she’s thinking.
Clearing her throat, she eyeballs me with a derisory look I’d only reserve for enemies. “Nice try, Rock Star, but if you think that’ll get me to say yes, you’re sorely mistaken.”
What’s with all this Rock Star shit? Is she allergic to my name now? If she’s trying to rile me up, it’s working. “That’s not why I said it.” I rub a hand across the back of my neck. “Look, could we go in the other room and talk in private.”
“I’ve nothing to say to you.” She gathers up her belongings, stuffing them in her bag.
“Well, I’ve plenty to say to you.”
“I’m not interested in anything you have to say.” She slings her bag over her shoulder and purses her lips.
“Please, Zeta. Please let me explain.”
“Your actions speak volumes.” Sending me one last lethal look, she walks to Rod, shaking his hand. “Thank you very much for the opportunity, but I’ll have to politely decline.” She turns to the guys with a smile. “It was nice meeting you all. You should get some ice on that asap,” she tells Gar.
“Call me.” He thrusts a piece of paper with his number into her hand. I can’t tell if he’s deliberately pissing me off or if he genuinely has an interest in her. Either way, it’ll never happen.
Crumpling the paper in her fist, she hands it back to him. “Not if you paid me.” Spinning on her heels, she ignores me as she walks toward the door.
A spurt of anger jumps up and bites me. “What? No goodbye for me?”
“I’ll write you a letter,” she spits out over her shoulder, slicing my heart in two all over again. I knew she probably hated me, but this level of anger speaks of deep-seated, entrenched hurt that’s never healed. I desperately need a chance to fix it, and her doing this is the only way I stand a snowball’s chance of getting through to her.
“You’re going to do this, Zeta. This isn’t the last you’ve seen of me.”
Turning around, she plants her hands on her slim hips and fixes me with a glare the devil would be proud of. “There is nothing you can say or do that will ever get me to agree to this.”
“You’ll be eating your words soon. A little chat with your boss should do the trick.” I can’t help smirking because I know I’ve got her where I want her.
“You clearly don’t know Harrison Meadows if you think you can bully him into anything.”
“He’ll agree if I’m his boss.”
That shakes her.
“What?” she splutters
“I’ll buy the fucking magazine if I have to, but mark my words, you’re doing this, baby.”
The expression on her face is classic. She looks like she wants to throttle me with her bare hands, and I’m fucking loving it. I feel alive, properly alive, for the first time in years, and I don’t want to stop sparring with her, so I milk it a little longer.
Stalking toward her with a smug grin on my face, I say, “I’ll get your bedroom ready, or we could just save ourselves all the back and forth, and you can move straight into mine.”
I’m being an asshole. I know it. But I’ll take her anger over indifference any day.
Her mouth drops open, veins thicken in her neck, and her face turns red with rage. I think she might actually hit me, but she restrains herself. “Buy the magazine, see if I care. I’ll quit and get another job.” Defiance glints in her eyes and as I get all up in her personal space, I want nothing more than to kiss the living daylights out of her.
My eyes drop to her lush mouth, and I’m reminded of how incredible it felt to kiss her. Before I get sidetracked, I deliver the parting sho
t. “Go for it, darling. I’ll just buy wherever you move to. And if you move again, I’ll do the same there. There’s no way you can escape this or me.” I sweep my thumb across her pouty lips. “Fate drove us apart, and now, it’s bringing us back together. Stop fighting the inevitable.”
“I hate you,” she says, but she doesn’t mean it. She doesn’t even realize her body is arching toward mine, and her eyes keep lowering to my mouth. She can deny it from the rooftops all she wants, but she can’t hide the truth from me. We never could shield our feelings from one another.
She still loves me.
I see it in her eyes, and as long as that truth remains there, I’m not giving up. I want her back, and this time, I’m going to fight tooth and nail to hold onto her.
“We both know that’s a lie.” I press my mouth to her ear. “If I slid my fingers inside you right now, how wet would you be?”
She shoves at my chest. “You … you … pig.”
I chuckle, enjoying this enormously. She’s all flustered, and that’s my doing. I feel like patting myself on the back for a job well done.
“You can keep denying it, but we both know this is happening. Get used to it, baby, because this is on.” I slap her on the ass, and this time, I’m convinced she’s going to swing at me, but she just storms out of the room, completely agitated, before returning two seconds later.
“Deny this, asshole,” she fumes, violently flipping me the bird.
There’s my girl, and this time, I’m not running away from her. If I have to be an asshole to ensure she’s back in my life, then so be it. Because I’m not letting him scare me into pushing her away again. I’m going to protect her and keep her safe, and I’m going to prove to her that we are meant to be together.
I’m not giving up until she’s back in my arms again.
CHAPTER 21
Zeta
I cradle the phone under my neck while I use my free hands to open a bottle of wine, pouring a large glass and taking a quick sip. My plan is to get completely trashed so I don’t even remember my name. Maybe that way, I can stop rethinking the shitshow that was my life today. “I really fucking hate him.”
“No, you don’t,” Kayla calmly protests. “You love him. It’s always been him. It’s why you’ve never entertained the idea of a relationship with anyone else.”
“Don’t say that to me,” I plead, gulping down wine.
“The truth hurts, babe, but it’s time you faced up to it. And I knew he still loved you. I just knew it.”
“I’m not buying that crap. It’s a ploy to get me into his bed because he never made it there the last time. That’s all this is.”
“Well, you won’t know unless you take a chance, and the opportunity is too good to pass up. Think of all the other offers that will roll in once you’re a published author. And think of the money, babe. I wouldn’t be too hasty to turn it down.”
“Maybe you should do it. They were going to offer it to you first, and you’re the one with family responsibilities. You need the money more than I do.”
“Girl, are you high? You really think Gage is gonna let me live with Torment knowing their reputation?”
I open my mouth to say they wouldn’t hit on her knowing she’s engaged and has a baby with her fiancé, but who am I kidding? Something like that wouldn’t matter to Garrett Jones.
“And I very much doubt Ryder’s going to back down now you’ve come barreling into his life again. He sounds determined.”
“He couldn’t really buy the magazine, could he?”
“Of course, he could,” she unhelpfully confirms, yawning. “Those extravagant bastards can buy anything they want. Everything is available for a price.”
Guilt slaps me in the face. “You’ve had an exhausting day, and I shouldn’t be burdening you with my shit. Go be with your family. I’ll come visit tomorrow.”
“Zeta.” She uses her adulting tone.
“What?”
“I know you’re scared, and I know he hurt you, but maybe he’s right. Maybe it is fate. Maybe this is where the last eight years have been leading. And if nothing comes of it, at least you’ll get closure. And this could be amazing for your career. If you let it go, you could end up kicking yourself in the ass.” She pauses, and I let her words settle in. “At least take some time to think about it. You can’t make a logical decision when you’re so emotional.”
“I’ll think about it,” I promise. “Now go give that adorable little boy a big kiss from me.”
I fall asleep on the couch midway through the second bottle of wine.
Sometime later, I’m woken by the incessant chiming of the bell. I glance at the time on my cell through bleary eyes. It’s not even eleven. Guess the wine combined with my overwrought emotional state was enough to send me to sleep way before my usual bedtime.
I’m rubbing my tired eyes as I pad toward the door, yawning. I peer through the peephole and jerk back, the sight of Ryder standing in my hallway enough to induce a rapid case of tummy flutters.
“Zeta, open up.” He pounds his fists on the door. “I’m not leaving until you talk to me. I’ll just sit out here all night.” I think he’s stubborn enough to do it too.
Ignoring the butterflies careening around my chest, I open the door and scowl at him. Well, it was either that or swoon, because he looks completely fuckable in his jeans, white tee, black leather jacket, boots, and beanie combo. He might as well have written Rock God on his forehead to complete the look. “What do you want?”
“Wow. Is that how you usually greet your guests?” His eyes twinkle with mirth, and his lips twitch.
“Only the unwanted ones.” His smile drops, and I feel like a bit of a bitch. Someone opens their door across the way, and I sigh. “Come in.” I step aside to let him enter because I don’t want to have this convo with an audience. He bends down, retrieving a box I hadn’t noticed on the floor before stepping into my modest condo.
“Cute PJs.” His eyes do a quick one-over of my Frozen sleep shorts and tank top attire, and I curse my sleepyhead for opening the door without giving any consideration to my state of undress.
I cross my arms over my braless chest, and he works hard to keep his eyes on my face. I don’t owe him anything, and it’s probably best not to engage him in conversation, but I find my mouth opening anyway. “My five-year-old cousin Kendall loves Frozen, and Jill bought us matching pajama sets for Christmas because I was the one who got her hooked on the movie.”
“How is Jill?” he asks, shutting the door with his booted foot. I narrow my eyes at him, and he shrugs innocently. “It was drafty.”
“She’s great. She’s married now, and her and Liam have a son too. Kyle is four and a real little monkey.” I smile as I think of my two adorable cousins.
“I’m really glad things worked out there for you.” He smiles, and unlike earlier today, it’s warm and genuine, and it meets his eyes. I’m struck dumb for a moment, until I snap out of it. It’s too easy to fall under Ryder’s spell, but I’m not a naïve teenager anymore. And I haven’t forgotten how he broke my heart by dumping me for someone else.
“Why don’t you take a seat in the living room while I pull on something warmer.” I point in the direction of the living room.
“Don’t feel the need to do that on my account.” His eyes glimmer suggestively. “I’m quite happy with the view.”
“Wow. Original. I bet you give Garrett a run for his money.”
The spark in his eyes dies. “Don’t compare me to that douche.”
“I thought you were friends and partners in crime?”
“We are, doesn’t mean he’s not a douche.”
I roll my eyes. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be back in a minute.”
I practically sprint to my bedroom, slamming the door closed and leaning back against it as I take deep breaths in an attempt
to calm my overactive libido down.
Just because Ryder is hot as sin doesn’t forgive his past behavior.
It seems my body needs reminding of that.
I hate that he still affects me so potently, and I wish he wouldn’t. Overindulging in wine hasn’t helped either, but I’m not letting him get to me. It’s obvious why he’s here. He’s on a mission to convince me to do this, and while Kayla almost persuaded me earlier, I’ve given it more thought, and there’s no way I can commit to this insanity.
He wounded me. As surely as if he’d taken a knife and sliced up my heart. Smiling, flirting, and professing love can’t ever erase that truth. And I need to always remember that. My priority here is protecting my heart from further annihilation and the only way I can do that is to stay away from him.
What happened today has forced me to face some facts. One: I’m still completely and utterly, irrevocably in love with Ryder Stone. Two: I’m still undeniably attracted to him on every conceivable level. Three: My willpower is seriously tested in his presence, and I doubt I’m strong enough to resist his allure if I’m faced with all that gorgeousness on a daily basis. And four: I’m pathetic beyond belief and seriously ashamed of how fucking weak I am when it comes to him. I pull on a pair of yoga pants and zip a hoodie up over my flimsy tank before making my way out to the living room.
I don’t sit, and I don’t offer him anything to drink because he’s not staying long. “I know why you’re here, and you’re wasting your time. I’m not doing it.”
His leather jacket is draped over the back of my couch, and he’s leaning back with one leg crossed over the other, looking like he owns the place. He stares at me for a few seconds before responding, and his focused gaze raises all the tiny hairs on the back of my neck.
“Let’s just sit and talk for a bit.”
I fold my arms across my chest again. “Let’s not.”
“Please, Zeta.” His voice is soft, and he sits up straighter, leaning his arms on his knees. His biceps roll and flex with the movement, and it takes colossal willpower not to drool. Ryder has some seriously hot arm porn going on, and that thought sends a shot of liquid lust straight to my groin. I mentally slap myself upside the head, reminding myself he’s no good for me.
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