Page 58 of Running from the Rockstar
“Yeah, I do. Mom was wrong in a lot of things, but in one thing she was right.”
“Terri, I—”
“You wanted in my pants, that was all.”
Wham.
His fist slammed onto the surface, and I jerked my head toward him, surprised at the anger twisting his sharp face.
“That’sbullshit, CC. There has never… I never”—he yanked on the top of his head, pulling against the strands of his fake blond hair—“God. Your dad didn’t give me many options. It was either go back to the streets or make something of myself. I took the latter because I’d hoped to earn your forgiveness, to… to… I don’t know.” He ran a hand across his face.
“What are you talking about?”What did Dad have to do with him leaving?
His deep, blue eyes widened. “He never told you?”
I dropped my stare to his neck, to the tattoos ringing his throat. “Told me what?”
“Jesus. Fuck.” One exhaled breath, then he sighed. “I guess it doesn’t matter now. You’re right. I’ve made bad decisions. Ever since that day, my life has been one bad choice away from catastrophe, but somehow I’ve managed to keep it together. Mostly.”
Uncrossing my arms, I rested my elbows on either side of my keyboard and studied his face. His eyebrows were drawn inward and his full lips pinched together.
He’s holding in pain, just like he did when his dad had died until he finally let go with me that morning before school.
The tension eased from my neck muscles. As badly as I wanted to lash out at him, to unleash my pain, I couldn’t. At least not right now. He was looking for something, but I didn’t know what.
Hope? Acceptance? Forgiveness?
“Pax. Sometimes our choices can teach us a lesson, make us better versions of ourselves, if we take the time to learn from them.”
His gaze moved down to the report I’d been working on, the one I’d absently drawn in the margins.
I followed his gaze and bit my lip. A tiny thimble, in shades of gray and black, rested on the page.
A tiny smile tugged at his mouth, smoothing his face. “You’re doing well, I take it?” He tipped his chin upward.
Nodding, I stuffed the papers into the folder and slid it in my briefcase. “Yeah. After getting a full scholarship, I received a business degree from Arizona State. Without one dime from my parents, I was able to take out a small business loan and bought this place a couple of years ago.”
“That’s impressive.” Less guarded, his eyes seemed to devour my face. “I’m proud of you, CC. How’s Lana?”
Warmth rose in my stomach knowing he hadn’t forgotten my little sister. “She’s good. In the last year of college and hoping to move to LA to be a special effects makeup artist.”
He propped his chin into a palm, his attention still zeroed in on me. “Ah, I remember how much she used to love that zombie game. I’m guessing she wants to create movie zombies?”
“Of course.” I chuckled. “And anything else horror-related.” Tilting my head, I narrowed my gaze and leaned back in my chair. “Do you still read Peter Pan?”
His head lowered and he finally broke his stare. “No. I lost that book Momma gave me. I haven’t read it since I stayed with you.”
A tiny pang of sadness needled its way into my chest. I knew how special it had been to him.
“I’m sorry.” For a moment, an insane urge hit me to grasp his hand and offer comfort.No, he’s dangerous.If I was smart, I would run as far away from this rockstar as I possibly could. I needed to find safer ground. “So, you don’t readPeter Panany longer, yet you still sing about it?”
He jerked his focus back to my face. “I sing aboutus.”
I swallowed, then picked at a loose string on my sleeve.
The silence was too loud, too deafening, too awkward, yet I didn’t know what to say. Why would he be singing about our relationship twelve years later whenhe’dbeen the one to run away? It didn’t make sense.
“Did you marry?”
