Page 63 of Bombshell (Whiskey Dolls 1)

When Monday morning rolled around and I returned to Pierce’s house for the first time in two days, I wasn’t sure exactly what it was I was walking into, so I’d braced myself, deciding to go in with my guard up, and it turned out that was the smartest option, because as soon as I used the key he’d given me and let myself in, I was hit with an arctic blast so frigid it froze the air in my lungs.

He was already dressed in another immaculate suit, his jaw was clean shaven, and the blue in his eyes was once again a wall of ice. The only difference between this man and the hard as stone one from months ago were the shadows that were smudged beneath his eyes. It looked as though he hadn’t been sleeping. Well, that made two of us.

“Pierce,” I started as I stood just inside the entryway. I’d barely moved into the house and he already had his briefcase and keys in his hands, ready to escape. Crossing my arms over my chest, I stayed directly in front of the door with my feet braced shoulder width apart. If he wanted out, he was going to have to go right through me. “What the hell is going on? And don’t tell me nothing, because that’s a lie and we both know it.”

Something passed through his gaze, giving him the impression of humanity, but instead of feeling relief that the man I’d fallen hard for was still in there, the sadness I saw etched into his expression made my stomach sink.

With a deep sigh, he dragged a hand through his hair, ruining the style he’d accomplished. “Look, I’m sorry, but can we talk about this later?”

I shouldn’t have pushed, but I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t go another minute, hell, anothersecondwithout knowing. “You’re ending this, aren’t you?” The question came out in a ragged whisper, and I was sure my heartbreak was written all over my face. When he didn’t say anything for several long seconds, I asked, “Did I—did I do something wrong?”

“No,” he said with a tenderness that only made the pain worse. “You didn’t do anything. But we were just having fun. This thing between us, it’s run its course, Marin. That’s all.”

“Bullshit,” I snapped. If he was going to do this, I was going to demand the truth. I wasn’t going to let him take the coward’s way out. “You’re lying. At least do me the courtesy of telling me the truth.”

“I can’t give you what you want,” he replied, his tone ravaged. “I don’t have it in me. You deserve a man who will love you and build a life with you. I did all of that already with Constance, and I can’t do it again.”

Ignoring the white-hot blade that sunk into my chest at his confirmation that he didn’t love me, I demanded, “Can’t or won’t?”

That frigid chill returned. “Won’t,” he said with a lifted chin and squared shoulders. “I won’t, because I don’t feel it.”

God, he was such a liar. I knew, with every single touch, every look he gave me, that he loved me just as much as I loved him. But I wasn’t going to beg this man to admit the truth. I was worth more than that.

“We can discuss this further later, but for now, I really have to go.”

It took an act of God, but I somehow managed to suck the tears I wanted to cry back up and let out a bark of caustic laughter. “Discuss it further,” I repeated bitterly. “You know what, don’t worry aboutdiscussing it further. You’ve said everything there is to say.” I stepped to the side, out of the way of the door. “I hope you have a productive day,” I spit acidly.

He didn’t move from his place for several beats. “This isn’t—you aren’t going to—That is, Eli won’t—”

That fucking coward.

“I’m not abandoning Eli,” I clipped. “That boy has my love and he knows it. I’ll be there for him in any capacity he needs me.”

Pierce nodded, dropping his eyes to the floor. “Thank you.”

I didn’t watch him leave. I simply moved into the living room, carefully shutting off the valve to the feelings swirling around inside of me so I could get through the day without breaking down.

27

Marin

Eddie Vedder was crooning through my Bluetooth speaker as I laid on my living room floor, staring up at the ceiling, with an empty box of wine beside me. I’d officially becomethatgirl, drowning her sorrows in cheap wine and Pearl Jam. It had been three days since that jackass Pierced had danced a jig all over my heart, and to say I wasn’t handling it well was putting it mildly.

I’d been there for Eli when he needed me, but I’d fallen so deep into my wallow that I’d done something that I’d never done before. Not only had I bailed on rehearsals the past two days, claiming to have come down with the stomach flu, but I’d also called in sick to my shift at Whiskey Dolls the other night.

That had instantly put the girls on red alert, so I’d been screening worried calls from them for the past couple days.

I knew I was running out of time, that my reprieve would be coming to an end sooner or later, but until that time, I fully intended to nurse this broken heart and go full on emo.

Unfortunately, my time was cut shorter than I’d expected when someone began banging on my apartment door.

“Marin? I know you’re in there,” my big sister called thought the cheap wooden door. “Open up.”

“Do you think she’s really sick?” I heard another voice that sounded suspiciously like Mac ask.

A third voice answered. “Doubt it. Someone told me they saw her at Muffin Top just this morning, buying up two boxes worth of muffins.”

That was true. I’d hit Dani up earlier that morning, filling her in on my sob story so she’d feel sorry for me and make meall the muffins. They were mine, and I wasn’t sharing them with anyone.

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