Page 14 of This Side of Beautiful

He tapped the bench almost rhythmically before he spoke again. “They loved you at the gala and would’ve loved you last night if you gave it a chance. Yet you had to take something. It wasn’t just alcohol, Janae.”

“And I won’t take anything else. Can we move on?” I raised the bottom of the tank over my hips. His eyes drifted down for a second too long, and he bit the corner of his bottom lip. The temperature shifted dangerously in the room when he dragged his gaze back to mine. I softly said, “I’m fully conscious now.”

Landon’s brow furrowed deeply. “I’m not interested.”

Unperturbed by his blatant lie, I planted my hands on my hips and tilted my head. “No one has to know.”

“I would know.” He picked up his hat from the bench. “I don’t blur the lines.”

“Then why did you bring me to your bed instead of mine?”

“I didn’t know where else to take you.” He lifted up his shirt enough to show me four raggedy scratches on his taut side. “You fought me when I carried you out of the restaurant and then refused to tell me where you were staying once I managed to secure you in my car. You almost got my face, but I blocked you.”

I covered my mouth briefly. “Oh, shit. Was all that caught on camera?”

Landon didn’t blink.

“Why didn’t Del cut?” I scrambled out of bed, searching for my phone, anxious to call my manager and curse him out for not protecting me.

“You know how this works. The messier, the better. Cash kept putting his hands on you at the restaurant, and you seemed uncomfortable. You even hit his hand when he tried to grope you. He grabbed your waist when you were completely wasted and prepared to go. I didn’t want anything to happen to you. I stopped him by knocking him out and grabbing you over my shoulders like a caveman because you refused to leave the restaurant. I’m sure by now what happened went viral, so if I were Del, I wouldn’t have cut either. Your bad behavior is a dream for reality TV.”

I walked back to him. “Landon, I don’t want them to see me like that.”

“Then move differently,” he said, as if that were the simplest thing to do when habits were hard to break and change near impossible.

I sank back on the bed. “What did Cedrick and the rest of the band say?”

He whistled. “Not good. I stayed in here with you so I wouldn’t have to hear their complaints when they stumbled back in the wee hours of the morning. They don’t want to work with you anymore.”

“What did Del say?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to him. He’s probably champing at the bit. You just increased our ticket sales.” He placed his hat firmly on his head.

“Where are you going?” I already felt the sunlight dull. I didn’t want him to leave, though it was just as clear he didn’t want to stay.

“Need to play,” he reluctantly replied.

“Are you going somewhere to rehearse?” I hated the needy squeakiness in my voice.

“The studio downstairs.”

“What about me?”

He frowned. “What about you?”

“You’re just going to leave me hanging?” I gestured to my body. “You know I can’t come out of this room and not be gawked or glared at by them.”

“They are the least of your worries.”

“What do you mean?” I stepped closer, and this time, he stepped back.

“There are consequences for your behavior, Janae.”

“Trust me, I know.”

“Do you?” He raised the back of both his arms to show that I’d inflicted more scratches. “Three years away from all of this, and you apparently have learned nothing.”

Mortified at my actions against my one-time protector, I spat, “You don’t get to judge me. You don’t know what I’ve been through.”

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