Passionate Addiction

by Eden Summers

  It didn’t stop her from stalking on her knees to her laptop and slamming her finger down on the Enter button. There! Tickets purchased. It was one thing to drag out the breakup of a short relationship with your long-distance girlfriend. It was another to ruin a highly dependent, long standing friendship.

  Blake had some explaining to do, and Gabi wouldn’t rest until she knew what the hell was going on.

  “New York, here I come.”

  ***

  Alana swept into Blake’s dining room, placing a tray of cookies down on the table. He watched as she smiled at Michelle who sat across from him, then walked around Mitch at the head of the table, and came to Blake’s side.

  Her skin was pale; her beautiful features more tarnished from the flu than when she’d first entered his apartment an hour ago. She shouldn’t even be here, but Mitch insisted on being his wingman when he confronted Michelle, and apparently, Alana refused to stay home.

  She leaned into him, and he tilted his ear toward her to better hear her hoarse, whispered tone. “Your phone rang while I was in the kitchen. I’m sorry, I thought it might be a business call and I could take a message—”

  Blake leaned back and realized her lack of color came from anxiety, not illness. “That’s fine, Al, no problem. What did they want?”

  Her gaze shot to Mitch, then snapped back to Blake. She leaned closer, the heat of her breath brushing his skin. “When I picked it up, Gabi’s name was on the screen. I’m so sorry, Blake. I know you’ve been keeping your distance from her, but I couldn’t help answering.”

  He straightened, his heart beginning to beat like he was running a marathon. “How is she? What did she say?”

  “I said ‘hello,’ and so did she. Then she hung up. I don’t think she recognized my voice.”

  Of course she didn’t. The hits just kept coming. Alana’s voice was barely recognizable to him with the harsh scratching that accompanied her flu symptoms.

  “OK.” He nodded, keeping his voice even so Michelle wouldn’t sense his panic. “I’ll sort it out later.”

  Alana pulled back, her brow furrowed.

  “Don’t sweat it, honey.” He gave her a halfhearted smile. “The situation couldn’t get more fucked up if I tried.”

  A pained sigh escaped her lips. She turned and walked away.

  Mitch leaned forward, his gaze focused on Alana’s back while she fled the room. “What’s going on?”

  “I hate to interrupt,” Michelle sneered. “But I’ve got an appointment in less than an hour. You asked me here to talk, so talk.”

  Mitch straightened in his chair, the side of his jaw ticking.

  “Fine,” Blake growled. “I asked you here because I’ve had enough. I’m drawing a line in the sand. You blindsided me at the airport, and I’m not taking the risk that you’ll spring that shit on me again. I’ll give you one more opportunity to claim whatever media attention you think you need, then this is over. I’m done.”

  Michelle’s head tilted, her gaze slowly turning to Mitch. “He knows?”

  “Yeah, I know.” Mitch crossed his arms over his chest. “And I also plan on making your life a living hell if you share those photos.”

  Michelle smiled without warmth. “Honey, I’m already there.”

  “Yeah,” Mitch scoffed. “I can tell by your manicured nails and designer clothes.”

  Her smile turned to a glare, and she pushed from the table to stand. “I don’t need this.”

  “Sit. Down.” The command barked from Blake’s chest, loud enough to shock Michelle to plop back into her seat. “You have one opportunity—a club opening, a celebrity birthday, I don’t care. Just name it so we can get this over with. And let me make this clear, we will be seen as friends and nothing more.”

  Michelle narrowed her gaze. “Do you think one public appearance at a stupid club opening is going to give me the attention I need? You’ve gotta be kidding. I won’t agree to that.”

  Her response was expected and solidified his decision to move forward. “Then do what you have to, Michelle. Release the photos. I don’t give a shit. I’m done.” He pushed from his chair and stepped away from the table.

  Moving forward was his only option. He couldn’t continue to fear the future, and he needed to be back with Gabi. He would spend the next century regretting and apologizing for making the wrong decision, both to himself and the woman he loved.

  “Wait,” Michelle called.

  He glanced over his shoulder and found her standing, her chin high and cheeks flushed.

  “Fine.” She raised her brows. “I’ve picked an event—Mitch’s engagement party.”

  “Ha!” Mitch laughed. “That’s funny.” Then his face fell. “Wait, you’re joking, right?”

  Michelle rolled her eyes and focused her confident stare on Blake. “One night. That’s it. The paparazzi will be buzzing, and I can butter them up with an inside scoop on the happy couple.”

  “No.” There was no need to contemplate. It wasn’t an option.

  “We could make it work,” Alana’s raspy voice came from behind him. “Sorry.” She smiled sheepishly when he turned. “I was listening from the hallway.”

  “No, Blake’s right.” Mitch pushed from his seat and walked to Alana’s side. “It’s our engagement party.” He swiped the loose hair on her cheeks behind her ear. “I won’t let her ruin it.”

  “She won’t, will you Michelle?” Alana’s tone was light, but the underlying venom was unmistakable.

  Michelle’s lips pulled into a sneer. “Of course not.”

  “Alana, no.” Blake couldn’t risk ruining their engagement party. “It’s not an option.”

  Alana stepped forward, stopping a foot away from him. “Let us do this for you.” She pinned him with her hope-filled gaze, her eyes sparkling with optimism. “If having her at the engagement party is all that it takes to clear this mess, we’ll be happy to do it.”

  She bridged the distance between them and hugged him tight, resting her cheek against his shoulder. Something inside him fractured. He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting back his helplessness and circled his arms around her waist. He didn’t want to let go. She reminded him of Gabi. Her scent. The soft material of her clothes, the warmth of her body, the way she didn’t let him go. Christ. He couldn’t do this.

  He opened his eyes and met Mitch’s glare of disapproval. “Back the fuck away, buddy.”

  The familiar playful banter made Blake smile. Through the darkness, disillusion, and hopelessness there would always be time to shit-stir with Mitch.

  He kissed Alana on the temple and let her go. “We can finish this later, sugar.”

  Mitch raised a brow, and the corners of his lips twitched. “Let’s finalize this so we can get outta here.”

  “Are you really willing to risk your special night?” Blake asked. He could laugh and flirt and joke with Mitch and Alana for the rest of his life, but right now he needed to be sincere.

  Mitch shrugged. “If Allie’s happy, then I’m happy. And besides, her gun toting mom is coming. So bringing along a skanky date is the last of your worries.”

  Blake winced at the memory of Mrs. Shelton and Michelle cleared her throat, which they all ignored.

  “You sure?” Now that freedom was within his grasp, his heart began to stutter.

  “Yeah, no problem.” Mitch shrugged away the enormity of the situation. “You’re my bro. I’d do anything for you.”

  Deep and meaningfuls weren’t their style. In fact, it felt awkward. Really awkward. Blake grinned, hoping to break the discomfort. “Like letting me seduce your fiancé?” He had no interest in Alana sexually, but the thrill of teasing Mitch was too damn hard to resist.

  “Like refraining from using my fist to break your face.”

  They both smiled and glanced at Alana who rolled her eyes.

  “Well, now that your emasculating moment is over, can we work out the details?” Michelle hissed. “I need to get out of here.”

  “Oh,
she’s such a lovely little thing, isn’t she?” Alana mumbled, reaching for Mitch to entwine their fingers. “We’ll leave you to it.”

  Mitch patted him on the shoulder before walking from the room.

  “Right,” he swung around to face Michelle. “Let’s get started on the rules.”

  Gabi stared at herself in the elevator mirror, fighting the urge to run her nervous hands over the shiny silver satin of her gown. The charcoal fabric clung tight, accentuating her hips and waist, gracefully falling to her ankles. The dress wasn’t new. Hell, after the money she’d spent on the flight and the one night accommodation at The Plaza, she’d never be able to afford retail again. But she was here now, currently descending to the Terrace Room where the engagement party would already be taking place.

  Her stomach was woozy from the hours spent cramped on the plane, and the more she thought about making her entrance to the party, the more it churned. Her anger had vanished mid-flight, replaced with an eerie clarity. Tonight wouldn’t end well. She could feel it in the ache of her bones and the shallow throb of her heart.

  She even made sure not to call Blake and announce her arrival, giving her the element of surprise. His initial reaction to her appearance would tell her everything she needed to know.

  Exiting the empty elevator on the second floor, she strode into a wide foyer smelling of sweet roses. The blooms were placed in large vases along a long gift-laden table. She made her way to the middle of the empty room and glanced through the archway to her left.

  “Ma’am,” a male voice greeted her.

  Two security guards stood in the next room, each standing beside one of the four French doors holding out the laughter and chatter Gabi could hear coming from the other side.

  “Are you here for the engagement party?” One of them stepped forward with a clipboard while fidgeting with the coiled cord running down from his earpiece.

  Damn it. She hadn’t anticipated security. “Yes,” she answered, a little breathless. “I’m sorry I’m late. My flight from Sydney only arrived a few hours ago, and I needed to freshen up.”

  “All the way from Australia?” He grinned, his gaze lingering on the visible swell of cleavage at her neckline. “What name?”

  “Ah.” She froze and cleared her throat. “I’m Blake Kennedy’s guest.”

  The man frowned and focused on the clipboard in his hands. “I thought I saw Mr. Kennedy enter a while ago with another woman.”

  Her mouth worked, and she felt the blood rush from her face. Think. Think. Think. She’d come too far to be turned away now, another woman or not. “He may have arrived with another guest,” she spoke politely when what she really wanted to do was crumple against the wall. “I told him to meet me inside because I wouldn’t make it on time.” The lies slid from her lips, made easier because the guy wasn’t looking at her, and the man standing beside the next door appeared half asleep.

  “Mmm.” He continued scrolling down the list. “Here he is.”

  He tapped his index finger near the bottom of the page, and Gabi stopped breathing. If there was another woman’s name beside Blake’s, she was screwed.

  “It just says ‘plus one.’”

  Gabi lifted her chin and nodded, feigning excitement. “That’s me.”

  He looked up again, this time scrutinizing her. “Right.” He stepped back, giving the other security guard a glance before hesitantly opening the door behind him. Noise filtered into the foyer, a mass of people talking, laughing, and clinking glasses.

  “Thank you.” She ignored his skeptical gaze and sauntered forward, acting like she owned the place.

  And boy, what a place. She stood on a walkway that ran the length of the room. Before her were huge archways bordered with a golden railing that gave a view to the mingling guests below. Beautiful people were bathed in the soft orange glow of a breathtaking chandelier in the center of the ceiling. And everywhere she looked hotel staff greeted guests with trays of food or wine.

  Gabi really needed wine.

  With shaky limbs, she walked along the walkway, close to the wall, hopefully blending into her surroundings. When she reached the sanctuary of the last archway pillar, she stopped, hiding behind it, and took a deep breath.

  “Gabi!” Alana’s familiar voice called.

  Oh, shit. Gabi had no plans to flee, yet now that she’d been spotted it made the situation more real. More crazy.

  She peered around the pillar and found Alana and Mitch making their way up the staircase.

  “What are you doing here?” Alana’s eyes were filled with excitement. She rushed forward in a sparkling ruby dress and enveloped Gabi in a hug. “It’s so good to see you.”

  Gabi returned the embrace and glanced at Mitch over Alana’s shoulder. He stood tall, his gaze frantically scanning the crowd below, his lips pressed firmly together.

  “It’s good to see you, too.” Gabi stepped back and nervously ran her fingers along the necklace Blake had given her. Even with the threat of him moving on without her, she hadn’t found the strength to stop wearing his gift.

  Mitch stepped forward. “Hey, Gab. We’re glad you made it.” His words were hesitant while he glanced between her and Alana, a slight frown marring his brow. “Ah…does Blake know you’re here?”

  She wanted to laugh at his lack of subtlety. The panic in his tone made the tension grow inside her. Her body now simply waiting for the bad news to hit. “No.” She shook her head. “I know I’ve turned up unannounced, but I needed to see him. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all.” Alana reached for Gabi’s hands and squeezed, the three of them now hiding behind the archway. “Why don’t you let Mitchell go find him while we catch up?”

  Gabi stared into Alana’s eyes, pleading. “No, please let me find him.” She clutched Alana’s hands while Mitch went back to nervously scanning the crowd. “I’m not here to cause trouble. I just need to find out what’s going on. If he doesn’t want to see me I’ll leave, I promise.”

  Alana glanced over her shoulder at Mitch. His features softened and pity entered his expression. “Gabi, Blake’s struggling to deal with a few things at the moment. He’s—”

  “I know,” she interrupted. “I know he has things going on, and the secrets are what scare me the most. He’s always told me everything.” Her eyes began to burn, and still she didn’t look away. She needed Mitch to know how serious she was. If she left, there was no coming back. “I can’t sit around and wonder if he’s shutting me out of his life anymore. I need an answer so I can move on.”

  Mitch searched her gaze, his shoulders slowly slumping. Finally, he let out a sigh. “Let me come with you. We can find him together.”

  Gabi released the breath tightening her lungs. “Thank you.” She turned to Alana. “Thank you. I won’t make a scene. I promise.”

  With a sad smile, Alana turned to descend the stairs. Gabi followed, taking each step cautiously, scanning the crowd while Mitch remained at her side.

  “There.” Mitch jerked his head to the other side of the room. “At the bar.”

  Gabi ignored the rampant beat of her pulse while she sought out Blake. Groups of people lined the bar. Men in suits, women in cocktail dresses, staff waiting for trays to be filled with drinks. Then there he was. She would’ve recognized his profile anywhere—the dark spiked hair, the broad shoulders.

  “Let Mitchell go get him for you,” Alana said.

  Gabi shook her head, her focus remaining on the gorgeous man at the bar. Blake hadn’t spared her the decency of a phone call. She wouldn’t give him the opportunity to hide or come up with an escape plan. “No.” She glanced at Alana and smiled. “I’m fine, thank you.”

  Gabi poised to take another step when Blake pivoted, turning to show his face. She paused, her foot hanging in midair. Was that really him? He seemed darker, harsher in the dim light. Maybe it was the distance between them. He didn’t look like the fun-loving man she’d fallen in love with.

  He raised a glass to hi
s lips, and she squinted, making sure her eyes weren’t deceiving her. Seconds ticked by in aching heartbeats, and not once did the vision change. Blake remained at the bar, sculling the dark liquid from a half full scotch glass.

  “He’s drinking,” she whispered to herself, lowering her gaze to the floor. A knife of betrayal stabbed through her chest while her foot fell to the step below. He’d broken his sobriety without even mentioning it to her. What the hell? He always told her everything. And no, she wasn’t his mother, but god damn it, she’d been his best friend for years.

  “Shit,” Mitch muttered beside her.

  She glanced back to the bar and the force of Blake’s gaze hit her like a burst of flames. His eyes were wide, his mouth now slightly ajar. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, his lips tilted in a grin and her blood heated in response.

  That’s all it took. One simple smile and the hurt dissipated, the pain flittered away, and in tiny increments her life brightened. She smiled back at him, her cheeks lifting, heating. He wouldn’t be happy to see her if he no longer had feelings for her. He wouldn’t look pleased by her presence if he had something to hide.

  He stepped forward and her stomach clenched, waiting, wanting the comfort of his proximity.

  Then a feminine hand grabbed his shoulder and he froze. His lips tightened, his chin raised, yet it was his eyes, the pity and the shame that made Gabi’s skin shiver. She didn’t need to glance at the woman who clutched his black collared shirt. Intuition and common sense told her who it was.

  Michelle.

  The viper moved around Blake, running her hands along his chest and encircling his neck, her long beautiful hair hanging low on her back. Gabi held the staircase railing to stop herself from falling. The pictures of them on social media had hurt. They’d sliced her open, leaving her vulnerable and weak. Seeing them in real life broke her foundation, shredding her soul into irreparable pieces.

  Blake stepped back, ignoring Michelle’s attention. That’s when the heiress turned, following his line of sight to where Gabi stood on the stairs.

  Mitch grabbed her elbow. “Maybe we should—”