Page 77 of Composed
“Do you think I’m stupid to do this? To have asked her to do this with me?”
“If there’s one thing you aren’t, it’s stupid. Just… don’t let her get too close. Stick to the music and it’ll be okay.”
“That why you were ice cold with her? Don’t want to get too close again?”
He cocks his head, a short breath leaving him. “It’s never been about me. I loved that girl like a little sister, but when she left, I was okay. I dealt.Youdidn’t. I can’t watch you go through that again.”
I bite my tongue hard enough a tangy taste floods my mouth.
“Not to mention I have two mini humans to worry about.” Carter’s knuckles whiten around the bottle in his hand. “Those little girls fall hard and fast for the people in their universe. She meets them, they love her, then she leaves? I’d never forgive her for that.”
He drops an uncapped beer into my lap.
I nod in thanks.
He watches me another moment, then stands and stalks over to Axel.
I roll the bottle between my fingers, the condensation chilling my flaming skin.
I get where Carter is coming from and he’s not fucking wrong.
Watching Hendrix walk away from me is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. God knows if I’ll survive it a second time.
I draw in a breath and uncap my beer as I feel eyes lingering on me from the back of the VIP area.
I don’t turn.
Even as I hear the click of heels against the luxury vinyl tile, I keep my gaze forward and sink the beer. A body drops beside me, the sharp scent of lavender and tequila floating around me. Pink nails tap on the glass table.
I spot Dean, our other security, edging closer from the corner of my eye.
I shake my head and he backs off. The woman isn’t doing anything. She’s probably just gonna shoot her shot, realise I’m not down for a night of fun, and slink off. Isn’t the first time it’s happened. Doubt it’ll be the last.
I’m not naïve.
I understand the appeal.
Tall, tatted, rich, and famous. It also doesn’t hurt that my face card’s decent too. I’m just not interested in that side of rock n’ roll.
I’m not a monk by any means.
I’ve hooked up a few times over the years, but never for more than one night and even then, it’s been few and far between. I can count on one hand how many women I’ve been with since Hendrix. Can't say I enjoyed any of it, either.
“Hey.” Her voice is low, almost a purr as she slinks closer. “You’re Cole Hayes, right?”
I tip my gaze toward her.
Blonde bob, red lips, hazel eyes, little black dress clinging to curves.
She’s pretty and very much not my type.
The mousy hair I used to dream about has since transformed into long midnight-black tresses. Pale skin, traded for bold, vivid tattoos. The green eyes still flicker gold when she smiles at me in my dreams though.
I stand. “Sorry. No idea who that is.”
“You’re not the singer of Reckless Abandon?”
“Never heard of them.”
