Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
SILVER
A lcohol was the devil.
Which was why, despite her ‘rockstar’ status, she rarely indulged. At least, not to the level she had the night before. Maybe a drink or two to unwind after a show, but she’d given up binge drinking before she’d even been old enough to get the stuff legally.
And as she pried her eyes open and squinted at the sunlight streaming through the slats of the blinds, the pain piercing her skull rather violently reminded her why she so rarely drank more than one or two shots of whiskey in a given night.
What the hell kind of hotel had blinds like that?
Groaning at the throbbing pain in her head, she rolled over. Then blinked at the bottle of water sitting on her bedside table, alongside two white pills.
Maybe Drunk Silver had been thinking ahead, but it seemed unlikely. Slowly pushing up in the bed, she looked around the unfamiliar room. It was too lived-in for a hotel room. Which meant she’d come home with someone last night.
Panic tightened like a band around her chest at the thought. And the realization that she couldn’t remember who she’d come home with.
But then a faint, familiar scent filled her nose as she breathed in deeply, and the tension in her shoulders drained instantly. Ice . That was who she’d come home with.
And he’d made her a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. With grape jelly. Her favorite, even though he hated the stuff.
The throbbing at her temples was still going strong, so she twisted the top off the water and grabbed the pills. She swallowed them down, then drained the bottle. Partly because she was thirsty and partly because she knew from experience Daddy Ice would be hounding her all day to stay hydrated, especially after a night of indulgence like the one she’d just had.
Honestly, she was somewhat surprised not to find him sleeping on the floor beside her bed. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time he’d kept watch over her after a night of drunken shenanigans.
Back then, she’d just seen such things as the actions of a good, if somewhat overly concerned friend. But looking back at those memories now, knowing he’d been in love with her all those years…
Jesus. How fucking stupid was she?
Her head was still aching too much to give the question the thought it deserved, so she put it out of her mind for the time being and carefully made her way to the bathroom. The memories of the night before were coming more clearly now, which meant she really hadn’t been too terribly wasted, thank god. But with that clarity came the familiar twinge of embarrassment.
And if she was embarrassed by her behavior, what must Ice think of how she’d acted?
Dread sat like a lead weight in her stomach. Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply through her nose, holding the breath in her lungs for a slow count of six before releasing it again.
Ice isn’t him. He isn’t going to be pissed at you for having a few too many drinks. You’re being a fucking baby.
There was probably something very wrong with her that berating herself the way her ex regularly had was oddly soothing and did more to ease the sickness in her gut than the breathing exercises. Something to discuss with her therapist when she made her way back home, she supposed.
Feeling steadier, she finished her bathroom routine and padded barefoot out into the living room. Which was where she found Ice, seated on a pretty teal couch, his reading glasses perched on his nose and a thick book in his hands. His hair was wet and loose, telling her he’d showered, and he hadn’t bothered to put on a shirt afterwards. Just the sight of a shirtless Ice was enough to make her mouth water, with all those rippling muscles and the ink all but covering his chest. Ruthless , one of his tattoos said, and as someone who had been on the receiving end of his particular brand of sadism, she happened to agree with the sentiment. And unless it was her imagination, he’d been working out more than usual, because he looked even more cut than he had on Roulette night. Add in the slight nerdiness of the glasses and the book in his hand, and the whole package had every nerve in her body thrumming with need.
Why the fuck was that so hot?
He looked up then and the breath in her lungs seemed to freeze at the intensity of his gaze. As if there was nothing and no one else in the world that mattered to him in that moment but her.
The last and only other time a man had looked at her like that had been him, during their turns at Roulette.
In another lifetime, she was certain that look would have made her swoon. Whatever the hell ‘swooning’ even was. Right now, she was too exhausted for anything more than a small smile. “Morning.”
“Morning.” Picking up his phone, he glanced down at the screen, a smile tugging at his lips. “Or I suppose I should say, afternoon.”
“Shit, really?” Wincing, she ran a hand over her unruly curls. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sleep so late.”
“Doesn’t bother me.” Now he was watching her again, with that same single-minded intensity as he rose from the couch and crossed the room to stand in front of her. Pinching her chin between his thumb and forefinger, he tilted her head back, studying her. “You look… rested.”
“I slept like the dead. Thanks, um, for letting me crash here last night.”
“Welcome. Did you drink your water?”
She rolled her eyes and his grip tightened in response, making her heart race. “Yes, I drank my water.”
“Good girl.”
The air between them seemed to come alive with the same electric need buzzing along her skin. It was an innocuous enough phrase, one he’d playfully used a hundred times before. But the last time she’d heard those words had been during their interrogation scene, after she’d just finished spilling some of her darkest secrets to him. Right before he’d kissed her for the first time.
Right before both their lives had changed forever.
Judging by the way his expression hardened, he was remembering, too. And then he stepped back, pulling his hand away, and the moment was lost.
“You should get going. I’ll get you a ride to your hotel.”
She wanted the moment back. She wanted him to touch her, to hold her, to kiss her. She wanted all manner of things she had no fucking business wanting.
Was this how he’d felt for the course of their entire friendship? This yearning tinged with guilt because he’d known how wrong it was? Jesus. Feeling this tortured over her own desires for even a few months, sucked. She couldn’t imagine feeling this way for half her fucking life.
But that was a problem for another time. Tonight, she had a job to do, and she wasn’t leaving this club until she’d done it.
“We need to talk.”
“You keep saying that, but we don’t have anything to talk about, Sil.” He sounded so tired, which only added to the guilt hanging heavy around her neck. “Go back to California. I’ll come home after the auction.”
“I said I’d stay for the auction. Save the jet fuel.”
Something, anger maybe, flashed in his eyes, but his voice was flat when he spoke. “Just go, Amanda. There’s nothing for you here.”
After a decade with Ace Alvarez, the cruelest man she’d ever known, she should have been immune to harsh words. But Ice’s flat dismissal had tears stinging her eyes. She knew every inflection in his voice, and right now he was using his ‘This topic is closed for discussion’ tone. Pushing him now would only result in a fight she was fairly certain she would lose.
Time to fall back and regroup, so she could win the battle they were inevitably going to have.
“All right. I’ll go. But this isn’t over, Ice, not by a long shot.”
Neither spoke another word as she gathered her things and waited for her ride. Silence hung between them, thick with all the words they were both too cowardly to say to each other.
By some miracle, she made it all the way to her hotel room before the tears came.
Ice
Beckett
Where the hell are you, man? Answer your goddamn messages.
He barely glanced at the text before tossing his phone aside and turning his attention back to his guitar. It was a safer option than the open bottle of whiskey sitting on the kitchen island, silently beckoning him to come and drown his sorrows.
If he was going to drown, he was going to do it in music.
Not that it was helping much. Every time he closed his eyes for more than a second all he could see was Silver staring up at him, her big beautiful brown eyes full of a need so raw and naked it stole the very breath from his lungs.
So much for just needing some space so he could get over her. She was under his skin, burrowed so deep into every cell of his body he didn’t know how the fuck to get her out.
His phone buzzed again and he glanced down, rolling his eyes at Beckett’s name on the display. He could ignore it, like he had the series of texts he’d gotten over the course of the morning. But if Beckett had escalated to actual phone calls, he wasn’t going to accept silence for an answer. That much, Ice had learned from experience.
Reaching over, he hit the button to answer the call and put it on speaker. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”
Beckett’s laughter came through the speakers loud and clear. “You’re not the first person to tell me that today, if you can believe it.”
“I can. What do you want?”
“I’m calling about your car’s extended warranty. What the fuck do you think I want?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you need help burying a body.”
“Please. I have people I can hire for that. Wouldn’t want to strain those million-dollar hands of yours with a shovel.”
“Asshole.”
“So I’m told.” Beckett’s laughter faded, and the silence from the other end of the phone grew heavy. “Seriously. How are you holding up?”
“I’m fine.”
“Uh-huh. How many bottles of whiskey have you gone through so far?”
Ice eyed the open bottle on his kitchen island. “Still early, yet.”
“Uh-huh. I’ve got a few things to wrap up here at the office, but I’ll be there as soon as I can sneak past Sonja. We can head over to my gym, get in a workout before we head out to the club.”
“I’m not in the mood to work out, Beckett.” Not that he ever really was, but Beckett wasn’t the type to take “I don’t feel like it” for an answer.
“Too bad. You’ve got about an hour, be dressed to get sweaty when I get there.”
“You’re a bossy sonofabitch.”
“I’ve heard that a time or two in my life. One hour, Elias.”
When the phone went silent, he glared down at the blank screen. The temptation to ignore Beckett’s directive was strong. Doms were, as he’d been told, the biggest brats, after all.
But more than just being a pain in his ass, Beckett was also a giant fucking nag. And, Ice could admit, working some of his frustration off was an infinitely better choice than drowning his poor liver.
Again.