Chapter Sixteen
Zoe
The door rattles on its hinges as I slam it shut behind me. What’s wrong with me? Why do I continuously fall for this guy only to have him slam it in my face? My hands ball into fists.
First, he’s all into it. And it was amazing. The kiss was completely different from the sweet peck I’d given him years ago. This was…. My toes curl into the carpet. This was heat. Savage claiming heat. And I felt it in every inch of my body.
If he would’ve kissed me one more time, my clothes would’ve been on the floor, and I’d have been screaming his name until the windows rattled. Because there’s no doubt that he can perform. The steely hardness of his cock had my mouth watering in anticipation. I wanted him buried deep inside of me. Filling me. Pleasing me.
Son of a bitch. I growl under my breath and march across the floor. A mistake. I’m a mistake? No, he’s a mistake. A filthy mistake that I won’t make again.
I unfurl my hands, causing the crescent moons on my palms to sting as my fingernails disengage from my flesh. This is it. I won’t make the same mistake again. I need out of here. Some fresh air would soothe my vibrating nerves. I twist on my heel and glare at the door.
I can’t. I can’t walk out my door and risk seeing him again. I might punch him or slice his pretty face with my fingernails.
Rage surges through me. Calm down. Take a deep breath. I inhale, count to ten, and slowly exhale the air from my lungs. Let it go. You’re the one with the issue. Not him. He’s under no obligation to want you. To wax poetically about you in a song.
I snort over my childishness and let the anger ease out of me. Slowly. Slightly. Whoever called him saved me from making a larger mistake. I jam my fingers into my hair and massage my scalp. It was probably a girlfriend, some woman that he's been messing around with back in Vegas.
Keep breathing.
I flop on the bed and grab my phone, scrolling through my messages.
A couple messages from Daisy complaining about her sister, her sister’s friends, her mom. I sigh. She’s not having any better of a time than I am.
Me: I’m sorry. I wish I was there to play buffer.
Daisy is my best friend, and I detest how her mother and sister treat her. She isn’t their indentured servant, despite how they treat her. One day, I hope she meets an amazing man who treats her the way she deserves and makes her forget all those times when she was forced to play second fiddle to Julia.
There are two messages from my father prior to him calling me. I ignore them. We’ve already reached an impasse, and I’m not in the mood for another go-around.
I scroll down to one from my boss.
Felix: Hey girl, I hope you’re having a fabulous trip. When you get back, I have a couple of new artists I want you to check out. You don’t have to look now, but here are their socials.
I might as well work. I prop the pillows higher and click on the link for the first artist. It’s a younger guy. Maybe in his early twenties like me. He’s attractive, with dirty blond hair and a crooked grin. If I had to pick someone he looked like, it would be Violet’s Island-boyfriend, only without the tan.
For several minutes, I watch his videos one after another, letting the tone and cadence of his voice fill the space around me. He’s good. A nice, solid baritone. He’s attractive. That never hurts. But he doesn’t have that otherworldly stage presence.
I wrinkle my nose. Few do. Once I’ve seen everything on his account, I click onto the second artist. In his first video, he’s playing a guitar. An instrument is nice. Much like the first candidate, this man has a decent voice, but he doesn’t make my heart flutter either, not like Jace. My fingers itch to search his account. To watch him sing. To hear his voice once more.
Don’t. I toss the phone onto the bed by my feet. He wasn’t that good. Right? No one ever gave him a record deal for a reason, and it’s not just because he used and drank. Hell, half of my father’s clients could drink him under the table on a Saturday night and get up on Sunday and go again until they were spewing vomit.
I snatch the phone off the blanket. If I were to choose one of the two artists, which one would I promote? Artist number one has a deeper voice, but artist number two plays the guitar. Can he play the piano or any other instrument? A versatile artist is harder to come by.
As if my fingers aren’t listening to my brain, I type in Jace’s name and scan through his account while avoiding the ones where he sang with Samantha.
The first song I click on is Jace alone with his guitar. His silken voice fills the room, leaving the hairs on my arms standing.
With no other instruments or backup singers, it’s easy to get lost in the way he strings together lyrics. The words are beautiful. They’re about a girl and how her voice curled around his soul, making it hard to breathe when she was nearby. How walking away was the hardest thing he’d ever done. The pain in his eyes is excruciating to witness, causing my chest to ache.
It’s about her. I swallow over the lump in my throat. He wrote this song soon after his original band broke up. When Samantha and Jack betrayed him and left the band.
I’m not delusional. He does have talent. What do they know that I don’t? Am I so obsessed with him that I can’t see the truth? Or now that he’s sober, would my father finally see his talent?
I click off the phone and shove it to the other side of the bed. Don’t go down this path again.
After I snuggle under the covers, I yawn. When I get back, I’ll tell Felix to pursue the second artist. He isn’t as skilled as Jace with a guitar, nor is his voice as clear as the first artist, but he feels like the better bet.