Page 67 of Puck Love

This is nothow Iwanted him to find out. It doesn’t mean anything, Logan showing up here. I find my voice, but from the look on Van’s face, it’s too late. “I canexplain.”

“Then you better start,” Logansays.

“You had a boyfriend this whole time I’ve been fuckingyou?”

“No, Van, it’snot—”

“Don’t you talk to her likethat.”

Tears spring free from my eyes, and I swat them away with the back of my hand. “Why? So you can, Logan? Don’t pretend you’re here for me. You’re only here to protect your preciouscareer.”

Logan’s jaw drops, and his eyes widen in horror, but it’s as false as our relationship. “I love you, Stella. I may not always show it, but finding out you’ve been here, with him, when you couldn’t give yourself to me in twoyears—”

“Two years?” Van shakes his head. His jaw is set, and his eyes burn with anger. “Nice of you to share that before I was buried balls deep inside you. Shit, and here I thought you only lied to everyoneelse.”

“Van, it isn’t likethat.”

He sneers. “Then what’s itlike?”

“This relationship was a goddamn publicity stunt. Our label pushed us together because it sold morerecords.”

“Stella, that might be how we started, but you should know I’d do anything for you. I planned on proposing this Christmas,” Logan says. I blink several times.Is he freaking kiddingme?

“Let me guess—in time with your Christmas album release?” I shake my head. “You should know I would have turned you down.” As if I would ever say yes to a man who used me to further his own career. “You know what? I can’t do this with you, Logan. You need toleave.”

“I think you both should go,” Vansays.

I turn to him, begging him with my gaze to let me explain. “Van,please?”

“Just go, Stella, before your lies fuck up anythingelse.”

I don’t move towards the door, but I take a step toward him. I reach for his hand and link it with my own, pressing it against my chest. I beseech him, but he won’t look at me. I reach up and stroke the side of his face. “Van, please? You have to listen to me. You have to believe me when I say that Logan and Iare—”

He wrenches out of my grasp and leans toward me, screaming in my face, “Go! What the fuck are you waiting for? You want me to call the cops and have you removed? Fuck off back to your little world, and your plastic boyfriend, and don’t you dare think about darkening my doorstep again when you need someplace to escapeto.”

Shaking, I take several steps back into Logan’s arms. He attempts to hold me, but I shove past and flee through the front door, and I don’t look back at either one of them. I just head for theSUV.

I’m met with Logan’s driver, Jonathan.Of course, he had Jonathan bring him here. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had someone wipe his own ass for him. Jonathan nods and opens the door for me. I climb inside. I half expect Logan to ride in the front, so my uncleanliness doesn’t touch him, but he slides in beside me, and Jonathan closes thedoor.

As Jonathon climbs in the driver’s seat, I finally find the courage to glance back at the house. Van isn’t waiting on the doorstep. His front door is closed to me, likely forever. The SUV moves down the long drive, and I shut my eyes as tears roll down my cheeks,unchecked.

“Do you have any idea how much you’ve humiliated me?” Logan seethes. I don’t look at him. He lashes out and strikes me with his hand. A solid thwack to my left cheekbone. My head throbs, and hot tears prick my eyes and roll over my smarting flesh. I’m so shocked that all I can do is sit there with my hand pressed to my cheek and fear in my heart. When I glare at Logan, his expression is just as shocked as mine. He raises his hand to my face, and I flinch and cower against thedoor.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry.” He shifts closer and slides his fingers through mine. I attempt to yank free but he squeezes my hand so tight I fear my bones mightbreak.

“You’re hurtingme.”

His grip loosens a little, but not so much that I can take my hand back. “Stella, come on, baby. I didn’t mean to; it justhappened.”

“Lay a hand on me again, and I’ll go public so fast your precious career will be in the gutter before I can finish a sentence,” I say through my teeth. This time, I do snatch my hand back and I shift across the cab, wondering if I opened my door right now whether I’d fall down the side of Van’s mountain. I pull the lever back, deciding the fall and the Canadian wilds are a much safer option, but it doesn’t budge. I hadn’t even heard Jonathan flip the central lock. Panic seizes my chest, but I close my eyes and tell my heart to be still. I’ll make a run for it the first chance I get. For now, I’ll wait, because I don’t see anotheroption.

Twenty minutes later, we pullinto the Fairmont Hotel. The building looms over us, and I can’t help but feel as if it’s a completely different hotel than the one I passed with Emmett and Van the day we went hunting moose. I feel like a different person than the woman who passed by here with the Rosses. In a lot of ways, I guess I am. I yank the handle again, but I’m still locked in. I glare at Logan. “Let meout.”

“We’re staying heretonight.”

“I don’t want to stay here. I want to gohome.”

“Stella, don’t make another scene. You’ve done enough of that already,” he says, as Johnathan opens the door for me. I climb free of the SUV and attempt to run, but Logan is faster. He grabs my wrist and jerks me along beside him. Several paparazzi have pulled in behind us, and they exit their vehicles, shouting for our attention. The sounds of their camera shutters snapping picture after picture twist like a knife in mygut.

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