33. Chapter 33
Chapter 33
Scarlet
I ’m still buzzing from the rush of seeing my face on the posters and signing my first autograph on something that’s actually mine. The crowd’s energy has me floating, like I’m on top of the world. But then, slicing through the noise like a razor, I hear a voice that stops me cold. My heart kicks into overdrive. I look up, and there he is—Beck, my ex. Standing right in front of me.
The noise of the room fades into a dull hum as panic rushes through me. He’s not supposed to be here. Not now. My first instinct is to run, but I’m rooted in place, frozen by the fear that he’s here to finish what he started.
Before I can react, his hand shoots out, clamping around my wrist, trapping me. My heart hammers in my chest, a chill slicing through me as his twisted gaze meets mine. That smirk on his lips—it’s smug, taunting, a sick satisfaction that tells me he knows exactly the effect he’s having on me, and he’s savoring every moment of it.
“Hello, babe,” he murmurs, his voice laced with a dark edge that cuts through me. “Long time, no see.” His grip tightens, not enough to hurt but enough to make his threat clear, like he’s daring me to pull away. That twisted glint in his eyes churns my stomach, feeding off the fear he’s stirred up. It’s not just my wrist he’s holding—he’s dragging me back into all the dark memories I’ve fought hard to bury. And the worst part? He knows exactly what he’s doing.
I yank my arm, desperate to break free, but his grip is unyielding, fingers clamped around me like a vice. Panic claws at my chest, stealing my breath. “Let go of me!” I gasp, my voice trembling, but he doesn’t flinch. Every time I pull, he tightens his hold, pain shooting up my arm, each struggle fueling his twisted satisfaction. It’s like he’s feeding off the control, enjoying every ounce of fear he’s forcing through me.
Then it happens in a blur. Someone steps in front of me, and before I can register it, Beck’s ripped away, a hand around his throat, yanking him back with brutal force. I gasp, my heart pounding in my ears, as I look up and see Ace, his face twisted with rage, inches from Beck’s. His voice is cold, lethal. “Let her fucking go.”
The crowd’s chatter vanishes as every eye snaps to the scene unfolding. Beck’s face twists in panic, his wide eyes full of fear as he chokes on whatever words he might’ve dared to say, but Ace’s iron grip silences him completely. I stand frozen, my heart still pounding from the sudden shift, caught in the gravity of Ace’s fierce protection.
Theo’s there in an instant, right beside Ace. “That asshole is her ex,” he spits, his voice a low growl, the barely contained rage simmering in his eyes, like he’s ready to explode and make Beck pay for everything he’s done.
“So, you’re the fucker who hit her?” Ace’s voice is low and deadly, his grip tightening around Beck’s throat.
The room stays eerily still, the weight of the moment hanging thick in the air. Everyone’s frozen, watching, waiting for what’s about to go down.
Xander steps in, gripping Ace's arm, and tries to pull him back. “Not here, Ace,” he says, his tone calm but laced with urgency. But Ace doesn’t budge, his gaze fixed on Beck with an intensity that crackles in the air, his hand still gripping Beck’s throat like he can’t bear to let go. Every second stretches as Ace’s fury remains unshaken, refusing to back down even a step.
“Time to go, asshole,” Ace growls, dragging Beck toward the door we walked through earlier.
I need to stop this, to do something—anything. But before I can take a step, Theo steps in front of me, his jaw set and his eyes narrowed, a look that leaves no room for argument.
“Let him handle it, Scar,” Theo says, his voice calm but firm. “He’s just doing what Nate and I would’ve done.”
Xander strides over, concern written all over his face. “You okay, Scarlet?”
“Yeah,” I manage, swallowing hard, trying to shove the fear back down where it belongs. He gives a quick nod, silent but reassuring, before turning to Kit.
Kit steps in, her presence commanding as always. She clears her throat, cutting through the hushed murmurs. “Alright, listen up, everyone!” she calls out, her tone sharp and authoritative. “We’re getting back to the signings. Let’s keep it moving. One asshole isn’t going to ruin the night.”
Her words snap the crowd back to focus, and the tension in the room starts to ease.
I slide back into my seat next to Jack, who gives me a sympathetic smile, leaning in just enough to be heard over the noise. “Fuck me, is this shit always this tense?” he asks, shaking his head slightly.
I manage a small smile in return. “No, only when assholes show up.”
He lets out a low chuckle, but my eyes shift back to the crowd. The fans are gradually falling back into their excited chatter, the tension loosening its grip, yet I’m still rattled by what just happened. As the line inches forward, my heart’s pounding, and my mind is a storm of worry and adrenaline. I force myself to focus on the faces in front of me, signing posters, making small talk—anything to drown out the lingering dread and the unsettling reality of whatever’s unfolding between Ace and Beck.
Every time I sign my name or muster a smile for a fan, my mind slips back to whatever’s unfolding beyond those doors. Is Ace all right? What if Beck tries something else? The questions spiral, twisting tighter and tighter, making it harder to hold up the mask of normalcy.
I’m on the verge of a full-blown panic attack, as the last fan leaves the room, and Ace is still nowhere to be found. As we all head back into the green room, my heart pounds louder with each step. As I enter, my gaze instantly falls upon him, slumped on the couch, a cold beer in his hand.
But it’s his fists that grab my attention. Swollen, bruised, the skin cracked and raw—there’s no mistaking what happened. As soon as I sit beside him, I can’t stop the words from tumbling out. “What did you do, Ace?”
Theo stands beside me, but Ace’s gaze never leaves mine. There’s a cold edge in his voice when he speaks, low and steady. “I did what I had to,” he says, his expression hard. “Just know, that asshole isn't coming near you again.”
“What if he presses charges?” I ask, my voice shaky, worry gnawing at me more than anything else.
“He won’t,” Ace replies, calm but firm.
“You don’t know him like I do, Ace. You should’ve just left it alone.”
He lifts his battered hand, his fingers grazing my cheek as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. The tenderness in his eyes catches me off guard, offering a brief moment of calm in the chaos. "He hurt you," he says. "Not just in that room, but those fucking bruises he left on your face. I had to look at them for days—almost a week. That asshole had it coming."
I can still see the simmering anger beneath Ace's calm exterior, but there's also something more—determination, fierce protectiveness. He’s not just trying to reassure me; he’s trying to protect me from everything I’m afraid of.
“He’s okay,” Ace says, his voice firm but soft, like he’s trying to steady the storm inside me. “A bit roughed up, sure. But don’t forget what he did to you—how he touched you when he had no fucking right. I told him if he even thought about going to the cops or coming near you again, I’d make sure his career in the music industry was over. Neil handled the rest, got him in a car, and sent him home.”
Ace leans into me, his lips pressing softly against mine. His kiss is a promise, full of reassurance and raw intensity. "You never have to fucking worry about him again."
As the tour continues, days blend together, the cities spinning past like a blur on a never-ending carousel. But somehow, in the midst of the chaos, Ace and I find our rhythm, settling into a routine that feels unexpectedly natural. It’s strange to think that just weeks ago, I was wishing for the kind of love Poppy has with Xander. Now, I can’t help but realize that I’ve found it—with Ace. Who would’ve thought that Ace Roberts, with his rough edges and guarded exterior, could love with such fierce, raw intensity?
Every time he looks at me, every time he touches me, it’s like he’s burning away all the doubts and fears I’ve ever carried. And in those moments, I realize that this—us—is everything I never knew I needed.
We never spoke of Beck again after that night, as if it had become an unspoken rule between us. Still, I knew Nate had called Ace after Theo filled him in. I didn’t ask about their conversation—I didn’t need to. According to Theo, Nate had actually thanked Ace for doing what he couldn’t.
Nate got his cast off today, and in the coming days, he'll be flying out to join us on tour. Theo’s pumped and the rest of the guys are just as excited to have him back. I miss my brother, but there’s this strange feeling creeping in. Having Ace around Nate... it’s going to be different.
Nate has always been the one looking out for me, the constant protector. But now, things have shifted. Ace has taken up that role, in his own way, and I can’t help but wonder how Nate will handle it. Seeing us together, especially after everything that’s happened... It's going to be a delicate balancing act. I don’t know if Nate’s ready for this change, or if he’ll be okay with how things have evolved between me and Ace. But one thing’s for sure—this isn’t something that’s going to be easy for any of us to navigate.
Since our time in New York, Ace and I have practically been living together, and I can feel something has changed in him. It's hard to pinpoint exactly what it is, but maybe it's because he finally faced his mother and confronted the demons that have been haunting him for years. There’s a softness in him now, a warmth that wasn’t there before, and he’s become more affectionate, even around the guys. It’s like he's shedding some of his old armor, letting me see the side of him that used to stay hidden. And, for once, it feels like we’re both in this together, fully.
Although it is still a bit strange when the guys watch us—especially Theo, who smirks at every opportunity. I can’t quite figure out if it’s because he’s never seen Ace like this and wants to tease him, or if he’s genuinely enjoying seeing how happy Ace makes me.
Tonight, on our night off in yet another new city, Ace told me to be ready by seven in something fancy. He knows my wardrobe inside out—he’s practically seen everything I own and has definitely undressed me in most of it. But nothing I had felt right for whatever he has planned, so I ended up asking Kit for help. I hate doing that. Kit’s wonderful and always willing to lend a hand, but she has enough on her plate without playing stylist for me too. The dress she sent, though? It’s stunning—beautiful and sexy, just the right mix of elegance and allure. It hugs my curves in all the right places, and as soon as I slip it on, I feel like I’m stepping into something unforgettable.
Ace isn’t here with me in our hotel room—I haven’t seen him all afternoon. He mentioned he had something to take care of but didn’t elaborate. I’ve been waiting, sitting on the bed, my mind running in circles, trying to figure out what’s going on. Then, I hear a knock on the door. I get up and walk over, half-expecting it to be Theo. We’ve been speculating all day about Ace’s plans for tonight, and if Theo’s here to ask me again, I might just lose it. My nerves are already frayed from the waiting, and the last thing I need is another round of questioning.
I open the door to find Ace standing there, looking absolutely irresistible in a sharp suit. His dark eyes brim with nervous excitement, and his tousled hair strikes the perfect balance between messy and hot. He holds a big bouquet of flowers, their vibrant colors popping against his sleek outfit.
I can’t help but notice how his gaze slides over me, his tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip. He clearly likes what he sees, and I struggle to restrain myself from yanking him into the room and begging him to fuck me, to pleasure me just as much as I want to pleasure him. The way he looks at me makes it clear that if I make that move, we’ll end up lost in each other all night—because that’s usually how it goes.
“Hey,” I say, instead.
As I meet his gaze, I notice a shift in him. The intense, sexual look has vanished, replaced by a sweet yet slightly nervous smile. He shifts from foot to foot, looking downright adorable and unsure, as if he’s still figuring out this whole “dating” thing.
“I’m not sure if I’m doing this right,” he admits, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. “I’ve never been on a date before.”
I can’t help but laugh; his nervousness is kind of cute. I step aside to let him in. “You’re doing great,” I reassure him. “Trust me, you’re doing just fine.”
His face lights up with a relieved smile as he hands me the flowers. “I hope you like them,” he says, nerves lacing his voice. “This is my first time buying flowers for a chick.”
“They’re perfect,” I reply, my smile warm and sincere. “Thank you.” I take the bouquet, my fingers brushing against his as I look up at him, a wave of affection washing over me. Turning away, I walk across the room, carefully placing the flowers on the table. Before placing them down, I lift them to my nose, inhaling their sweet scent. “So, where are we headed?” I ask, glancing back at him.
“You’ll have to wait and see,” he replies.
I grab my purse, curiosity piqued. I can't help but wonder if one of the guys helped him put this together. Ace has to have gotten changed somewhere, and since Theo didn’t have a clue, I’m guessing Xander might be in on it. He’s likely the one who helped Ace organize this date.
As I walk over to him, still standing just inside the door, the look in his eyes catches me off guard. It’s one of deep admiration and love, a gaze I’ve longed for and dreamt about for years. Having him look at me as if I’m his entire world stirs something inside me that I can’t quite put into words.
As soon as I reach him, he turns and opens the door for me, a gesture that makes me smile. I step out into the hall, and he follows closely behind. We make our way to the lobby and slip out through the back entrance to avoid the throng of fans waiting out front.
We ride in silence, the hum of the car and the soft glow of city lights reflecting off the windows. The streets grow quieter as we leave the lively downtown behind, giving way to older, more quaint buildings that exude character. When the car finally slows to a stop, I glance out the window, catching sight of a sign: Rooftop Revel. Even as I take in the name, I’m still completely in the dark about where we’re headed.
I glance at Ace and catch the smirk tugging at his lips, clearly savoring the fact that tonight’s a complete surprise for me. The car door swings open, and he gets out first, offering his hand with a knowing look in his eyes. I take it without hesitation, my fingers slipping into his. Lately, he’s been doing this more often—reaching for me, touching me without a second thought, not caring who’s watching.
We step into the building, and my curiosity deepens as we approach the old-fashioned metal grate elevator. Ace pulls down the grate with ease, the smoothness of his movements making it look effortless. He presses a button, and the elevator jolts to life, its old mechanisms creaking as it begins to ascend. I stand beside him, my mind racing with questions, still completely in the dark about what’s coming next. The anticipation is almost unbearable but in the best way possible. Every moment of this night feels like a small mystery unfolding, and I’m more than ready to see where it leads.
When the elevator stops and Ace opens the doors, the scene before me takes my breath away.
We step onto the rooftop, and the noise of the city fades away, replaced by the tranquil ambiance of a restaurant. The soft, golden glow of fairy lights threaded through delicate latticework along the edges of the roof, casts a dreamy, almost ethereal light. Lanterns flicker in the evening breeze, their gentle glow creating shadows that dance and shift across the floor. As I take it all in, a smile tugs at my lips. I instantly recognize why he brought me here. Back in New York, I told him how much I missed the rooftop coffee shop I’d shared with him, and this place—so enchanting, so serene—feels like a beautiful tribute to those precious memories. It’s as if Ace has somehow captured that feeling and turned it into this perfect moment.
In the center of the rooftop, a table for two is dressed with meticulous care. Crystal glasses catch the light from a flickering candle. To one side, a small fire pit crackles softly, surrounded by a cozy loveseat and a plush rug that beckons invitingly. The entire space feels impeccably private, and I know without a doubt that Ace has arranged for us to have this place all to ourselves tonight.
I turn to see him watching me, hardly believing the lengths he’s gone to for me tonight. The effort he’s put into creating this perfect evening overwhelms me.
“Is it okay?” he asks, his voice tinged with vulnerability. “I wasn’t sure; I thought you’d—”
“Yes,” I say, stepping closer and cutting him off with a kiss. His response is immediate; he wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me possessively against him. This man, with his tenderness and intensity, is going to be the end of me. “It’s perfect,” I murmur against his lips. A smile spreads across his face, relief and joy shining in his eyes, as if he’s been waiting for confirmation that he got it right.
A middle-aged lady approaches us with a warm, welcoming smile. “Welcome to Rooftop Revel! It’s a pleasure to have you dining with us tonight. Would you like to start with a drink by the fire or begin with your meal?”
I glance at Ace, who meets my gaze, waiting for my decision. “How about we have our meal first and then sit by the fire afterward,” I suggest.
He nods, and the lady leads us to our table.
We are soon seated, choose our meals from the menu, and have our drinks placed on the table. I take in the surroundings, noticing tiny details I hadn’t before. When I glance back at Ace, I catch him watching me, a soft, almost tender look on his face.
As I lock eyes with him, my mind races toward the future. The tour ends in a week, and I’m staring into the unknown—no idea what comes next. What jobs will be out there for me? I don’t know where I’ll end up or what will be waiting for me when I get there. And as much as I want to know what the future holds for Ace and me, I don’t have the answers. I need to talk to him about it—about what’s next for us.
He loves me. He’s told me every day, and tonight, with everything he’s done for me, it’s clear he means it. But the thought of pushing him too hard, of talking about something too serious and scaring him off, keeps me quiet. Ace has never been in a serious relationship before, and I don’t want to be the one to complicate things for him, especially when everything between us feels so right.
He lifts his beer, taking a slow sip, his gaze steady on mine. When he sets it down, I can tell he wants to say something, but instead, he looks at the glass, his fingers tracing the condensation.
“Does this feel weird for you?” I ask. “Planning a date like this? Do the guys know what you had in mind?”
“Yeah, it’s weird. I had no clue what the hell I was doing—didn’t know if it’d be too cheesy or if you’d hate it. But Xander said Poppy loves it when he does stuff like this. And judging by your face when we walked in, I’d say I got it right. No way in hell am I telling that asshole he was right, though.”
I smile, seeing that softness breaking through his usual tough exterior, like a flower pushing through concrete. That tenderness he shows is only when it's just us, while the hardness stays firmly intact around the guys.
He grins. "I didn’t tell Theo. That dickhead never keeps his big mouth shut and would’ve ruined the surprise.” He takes another long sip, then hesitates, glancing down at his beer. “There’s something I wanted to ask”
“What’s that?” I ask, taking a drink.
He swallows, clearly unsure. “I was just wondering what you’re gonna do after the tour. You said you’d need to find a new band, but... do you think you could do that from L.A.?”
I smile. “Yeah, I was thinking of staying out there anyway.”
“Look, Scar, I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just gonna come out with it.” His fingers tap nervously against his glass, the sound a small rhythm of his anxiety. He’s clearly struggling to find the right words, and I can feel the weight of the moment in the air between us. “I want this… whatever we have between us. I want it to keep going.”
His eyes meet mine, searching, like he’s waiting for me to confirm what he’s feeling, to assure him that this isn’t something he’s imagining. And I can see it in the way he’s holding himself, how vulnerable he looks. For all his strength and confidence, Ace is putting himself out there in a way that feels raw and real.
He wants this.
He wants me
“I want that too,” I smile.
The lady brings over our meals, and we settle into a comfortable rhythm of conversation—talking about Nate’s upcoming visit, joking about how Theo might change once Nate's finally in the same city as us, and discussing how Ace feels now about reconnecting with his sister. It’s the kind of easy conversation that flows without effort, the kind that makes me realize just how much I’ve come to depend on these quiet moments with him.
As he talks, I can see how much Daisy's return has affected him. For the first time, I get a sense of how much healing he has left to do—not just with her, but with himself.
And as I listen, I realize that despite the uncertainty of our future, moments like these are what I want to hold on to. The rest will figure itself out.
Once we finish eating, Ace stands and offers his hand to me. I take my drink and let him lead me to the cozy fire pit. The crackling flames cast a warm glow around us as we curl up on the loveseat, a soft blanket draping over our laps. I lean back, gazing at the serene stars above, feeling perfectly content in this moment with him.
Ace leans in, his breath hot against my ear. “Do you think they’d mind if I fucked you right here, right now?” His voice is low and rough, carrying a dark promise. The playful smirk on his face contrasts with the fire in his eyes.
When he kisses me, it's with such intensity that his tongue claims my mouth. For a moment, when we pull apart, I'm breathless. He smirks, clearly satisfied with the effect he has on me.
I feel the heat pooling in my pussy, the desperate need to have this man right here, right now. He looks at me, and as if reading my mind, his fingers trail up the inside of my thigh, heading straight for my throbbing core. I’m not even sure if anyone’s around, but I don’t fucking care. All I care about is feeling him, wanting his touch.
He kisses me again, this time slow and filthy, his tongue teasing as he deepens the kiss. His fingers slide under the edge of my underwear, teasing as he touches my pussy. When he discovers just how wet I am, he groans—a low, primal sound that sends a delicious shiver through me. I arch into his touch, begging for more, but he holds me in place, a wicked grin spreading across his face. His fingers circle my clit, pushing me closer to the edge.
“I want you to come,” he growls in my ear. “I want to hear you scream my name.”
“Ace,” I whimper, feeling the pressure build, taut and electrifying. He’s relentless, his fingers work their magic, teasing, probing, circling with just the right pressure, pushing me closer to that sweet release.
“Louder,” he urges. “Let me fucking hear you.”
I can’t help but obey, my voice rising as the pleasure intensifies, each stroke sending me higher and higher. The firelight flickers, casting shadows as I surrender to the pleasure, letting my voice spill out. “Ace! Oh God!”
He lets out a soft chuckle, clearly pleased with my reaction, his fingers quickening, more demanding. He leans closer, his lips grazing my ear. “That’s it, baby. Let go. Come for me, Scar.”
With each movement of his fingers, I feel myself nearing the brink, the world around us blurring. Then, with a final wave of pleasure, I shatter, my body quaking as his name escapes my lips, swallowed by the overwhelming ecstasy that takes me over entirely.