Page 6 of Not Another Rockstar
“I’m not here to defend Cillian. Nick sent me to make sure you’re okay while he deals with him,” he reasoned, wondering how she could look so fierce and stunning in the same moment.
“Trust my brother to pick his friend over me,” Phoebe muttered, looking at him with eyes brimming with tears. He loosened his grip, not wanting to hurt her.
Cillian was right to accuse him of being attracted to her. How could anyone be around her and not want to be hers? He had kept his distance, for his own sanity and out of respect for her relationship with Cillian, but not anymore.
“Don’t be like that. Would you rather your brother be here?” Axel asked. “Besides, Cillian’s not in his right mind. I wasn’t going to be left alone with him.”
Phoebe’s small frown made him wish he hadn’t added the last part.
“Thought you weren’t here to defend him,” she said, and he saw the rage behind her eyes—and that she was a hair’s breadth from tears.
“I’m not. Your brother is worried about you, so he sent me to make sure you didn’t do anything you’ll regret. Don’t go out there in this state. You were already seen outside with securityearlier, which only drew more press. If you leave like this, they won’t leave you alone.”
“Good, I’m glad they’re out there. I can tell them all about their beloved cheating prick that’s disguised as a charming rockstar. He’s really living up to the stereotype. I can tell the world that Cillian Hunt is officially single, and they’ll be delighted that the wedding is off.” Her voice got louder with each word until some people in the corridor stared at them. A glare from Axel moved them on.
“What about August and Nick’s reputation? Smear Cillian across the tabloids and you’ll take them down with him. Don’t let him ruin all they’ve worked for.”
Axel hated using her good nature against her, but he was protecting her from herself as much as he was protecting them. The press would tear her apart and the fans would gnaw at the bones.
Her eyes narrowed with resentment. “Are you sure you aren’t worried about your brand?” she snapped, folding her arms. “Surely this would only help the band’s image. Bad boys sell rather well.”
Axel shook his head. “Couldn’t care less about our brand. It’s not safe to go out there right now. Come with me to my tour bus and take a moment to breathe. Once the press leave, then I’ll bring you back to your hotel myself.” He was practically begging—and he never begged. “You don’t want to hurt them because that idiot who doesn’t appreciate or deserve you fucked up. If you still want to rip him apart in the press tomorrow, feel free, I’ll even help you, but give yourself some time.”
Phoebe’s expression softened, and she rubbed her arms. She must have been cold in that dress.
“I’ve got plenty of jumpers to warm you up,” Axel threw out in desperation, which earned a small hint of a smile.
She quickly concealed it. “Fine, but only until the press are gone. Then I’m getting the first flight out of here.”
He led her down another corridor, away from the press and to the private parking lot where all the tour buses and equipment trucks were parked. Axel kept glancing over his shoulder to make sure she didn’t disappear. He wasn’t the best at comforting, and he was too angry at Cillian to think of nice things to say. He wished his sisters, or his cousin Autumn, were here. They’d know exactly what to do.
Outside, the tour buses were painted with the band’s logo: a snake wrapped around a guitar. Axel’s was parked at the end of the row beside Nick’s, so Phoebe wouldn’t have to see Cillian—if he even made it to his bus. Nick would probably lock him in his dressing room to keep them apart.
Axel took his key from his pocket and opened the door.
“Luckily, I cleaned up a little this morning.” His attempt at conversation was off to a great start.
He turned on the lights. The only mess was some dishes from his pre-show snack in the small sink and an empty bottle of beer. Phoebe hesitated at the bottom of the steps.
“You don’t have to see anyone you don’t want to,” he reassured her and offered his hand to coax her up the steps. He tried to hide his surprise when she took it without argument.
“Make yourself at home.” Axel removed the guitar from the table in the main sitting area. He was trying to learn in his spare time; he got a little stir-crazy when they were driving around Europe.
“Just until the press conference is over,” she said, looking awkward in his space. She eyed the multiple packs of hot Doritos in a bowl in the kitchen.
“Do you want some?”
He hated how awkward he was. His sisters loved treats when they were going through a breakup, but maybe this was too soon. She shook her head, putting him out of his misery.
He had to do something, so he gave her a glass of water. She didn’t drink it, merely studied it. He’d have given anything to know what she was thinking. He’d never had to deal with real heartbreak—he usually ended things before they ever got too serious—but her watery eyes were breaking his heart.
“You can wait in my room if you want some privacy. There are some hoodies in the drawers under the bed if you’re still cold,” he said, and she walked through the tiny passage past the bathroom to his unmade bed and sat down. He pulled at the back of his neck, knowing he had to get to the press conference before Anita hunted him down.
“Don’t tell anyone I’m here.” Phoebe sounded utterly defeated and not her usual chirpy self.
“You got it,” he agreed, though Nick already knew. “I’ve got to go, but we can get you back to the hotel when I’m done.”
“Sounds good.” Phoebe nodded and closed the dividing partition.
