19—Indianapolis （Larinda’s Suite）
Go figure right after I messaged Val to come over for some much-needed cuddle—er, working—time, Nash and Paige showed up to say hello. Since they’re staying at a different hotel, I felt bad sending them away. Hopefully, Val doesn’t mind an impromptu double date?
His smile when I open the door makes me regret not sending them away.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey.”
Ugh. I see him every single day. Why does my stomach still buzz like a sixth grader at a middle school dance when those green eyes land on me?
Before he can say anything, I tug him into the room and shut the door. His chest moves in a deep sigh as I snuggle against him, and I know exactly how he feels. I can’t wait for the day when this can be our permanent position. No caution. No hiding.
“Thought you were alone,” he says quietly.
He kisses my hair, while I twist my fingers in the back of his shirt.
“I was, until they showed up. I’m sorry. I don’t think they’re staying long.”
At least, I hope not.
Something about Val’s energy has my relief at seeing him fade.
“Hey, you okay?” I say, pulling back to search his face.
He crosses a distracted look toward the open door where we can hear Nash and Paige arguing (about sandwich toppings?) on the couch.
“Fine. Yeah,” he lies. His weak smile confirms it, and I brush the X tattoo at his eye to bring him back to me. I never told him this, but it’s always been my favorite. Now that I know a little more about the story, it’s become yet another part of him to adore.
“You’re fine? Sure. I’m supposed to believe that?”
“It’s nothing. Just some mix-up with the rooms. We’re sorting it out.”
“What kind of mix-up? Did you let Bruce know?”
“He’s the one who made the change. It’s seriously nothing.”
He extricates himself from my arms and adjusts the backpack slung over his shoulder. Looks like he brought more than his laptop this time. Guess he’s planning on staying a while? No arguments from me.
“Hey, man. Nice of you to finally show up,” Nash says as we move into the living room. Their argument must have ended—or at least suspended—since Paige is tucked against him with his arm draped over her shoulders like nothing happened. I swear bickering is their love language.
“Yeah, sorry. I spent most of the day helping Chad buy mints for Jarvis.”
Nash lifts a brow, and Val shrugs. I haven’t spent a ton of time with Chad, but nothing about that sentence surprises me for some reason.
“Oh, by the way, what’s up with you and Mom and Dad?” Paige asks. “I got your text the other day, but we haven’t had a chance to catch up. They messaged me this morning asking about you. It was weird.”
Val’s expression drops, along with my stomach. What’s she talking about? Why hasn’t he mentioned his parents are bothering him?
“Yeah, uh, I’m not sure, really,” he says. “They contacted me a few days ago.”
Paige straightens from the back of the couch, eyes fierce. “Are they going after you again? What else could they possibly want from you?!”
“They’re not. I mean, I don’t know.”
He scrolls through his phone and hands it to his sister. Her expression goes from angry to surprised to perplexed in a matter of seconds.
“What’s it say?” I ask.
Paige glances at her brother before squinting back at the screen.
“I’m not exactly sure, to be honest. Who talks like this?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Andrews trying to apologize, apparently,” Val mutters.
“They’re apologizing?” I ask.
“Sort of?” He shrugs. “They said they messed up and want to meet in Pittsburgh.”
I stare at him, equal parts shocked and concerned. His expression is unreadable, except for the slight clench of his jaw. There’s definitely more to this, but it’s going to be impossible to get it out of him. He never complains about himself. Half the time I’m not sure he even realizes he’s been wronged. It’s like he expects people to treat him like garbage, something I fully understood after seeing how he’s treated by the people who were supposed to teach him his worth.
My last memory of his parents was about a year ago when I accompanied Val, Nash, and Paige to a meeting where he handed over thirty thousand dollars they claim he owed them for a semester of college. Really it was extortion and an attempt to be shitty human beings. They nailed it.
Now, they want to hang out?
I take his hand and lace our fingers. He glances over with a weak smile as I squeeze.
“What did you say?” Paige asks, handing his phone back.
He shoves it in his pocket. “Nothing yet. Which is probably why they contacted you.”
“I don’t blame you,” Paige says. “You have every right to ignore them. If you do decide to hear them out, though, I’m going with you, okay? You’re not facing them alone. Promise me you won’t confront them without me.”
Val lowers his eyes, and Paige narrows hers.
“Promise me, little bro.”
A slight smile flickers over his lips. “Sure. Yeah.”
“That’s not a promise.”
“I promise.”
“I’m going too,” I say, tugging his hand.
He tosses me a smirk. “Not a chance.”
I glare back. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.”
“You’ll be performing for eighteen thousand people that day.”
Oh. Yeah. That’s a good reason.
“Fine,” I mumble. “But Paige is right. You can’t face them alone, so take her with you or don’t go.”
“I already promised I would,” he says in exasperation. “And I haven’t even decided if I’m going. You all can stop babysitting me now.”
He pulls his hand away and crosses to the minibar to survey the contents. I’ve never seen him drink, so I’m pretty sure this is just a distraction. For him or us?
I exchange a look with Paige and Nash, not sure what to do. Paige shakes her head in a sign to let it drop, and I pull in a deep breath. It’s so hard to see him hurting. I feel so helpless. All I want to do is storm a castle somewhere, not sit around watching him pretend he’s fine. I don’t even care which castle, although it would be awesome if his parents were in it. Is this how Val feels watching my drama with Jarvis from the sidelines?
“You mind if I use your shower?” he asks, adjusting the bag.
Guess I was right about the booze distraction… and his extra belongings.
“Of course,” I say.
He returns a weak smile and takes off toward the bedroom.
“What do we do?” I ask once we’re alone.
“There’s not much we can do until he decides what he’s doing,” Paige says.
“The kid is a lot tougher than he lets on,” Nash says. “He’ll be okay.”
That much I know, but just because he can withstand a blow doesn’t mean he should have to.
Anotherblow, I guess. He’s already faced plenty from Jarvis. And his role in my career slide. And whatever happened just before he arrived.
Yet, despite all of this, he was willing to sacrifice even more to protect me.
I study the closed door to my room, my heart pinching in my chest. The worst part is he hasn’t said a word about any of it. He’s been bearing it all alone for heaven knows how long. How can it not be crushing him?
“He’s amazing,” I say quietly.
I feel Nash and Paige’s surprise but I don’t care. “Yeah, he’s a pretty great human being,” Paige says.
I nod, still staring at the door.
“You really love him,” Paige says softly.
I glance at her while something lodges behind my ribs. “Yeah, I think I really do.”
She pushes up from the couch and wraps me in a hug. After pulling back, she searches my eyes.
“He’s had it rough his whole life. He deserves someone amazing, and I think that someone could be you, just… please don’t hurt him.”
Don’t hurt him. Gosh, I’d rather poke out my own eyes, but what if I can’t help it? What if all the forces working against us prove to be too much? What if…
“Larinda?”
“I can’t promise he won’t get hurt, but I can promise I will do everything I can to prevent it.”
I hold my breath as Paige studies me.
After several seconds, she smiles.
“Good.” She turns to Nash. “Okay, that’s our cue. Let’s go, rockstar. This woman needs to do some stuff with my brother that I have no interest in witnessing or thinking about.”
I can’t help but giggle as Nash makes a face.
“Do you always have to say stuff in the weirdest way possible?” he mumbles, following his girlfriend to the door.
The water is still running by the time I return to my bedroom after ushering the others from the suite. I’ve never showered with Val, but I’ve spent enough time traveling and working with him to know he’s usually in and out.
Should I check on him?
He left the bathroom door open, so he can’t be tooconcerned about privacy. I approach the opening and do my best to survey the activity as discreetly as possible.
Steam obscures most of the glass wall of the shower, but I can still see his defeated silhouette. Head down, shoulders slouched, he’s not even moving as he stands beneath the spray.
Liar. He’s not okay.
I move through the door, and he immediately straightens.
“Almost done,” he shouts over the thunder of the water.
“Okay,” I shout back. “No rush. Just checking on you. You’ve been in here a while.”
“Yeah, sorry.”
He turns off the water and yanks the towel slung over the shower door.
I force my gaze away as the steam starts to dissolve.
“I’ll, uh, let you finish up.”
“Larinda, hey, wait.”
I turn back, my breath catching at my fantasy come to life. Messy dark hair hanging in his eyes, tattooed body glistening and wet… even the white towel around his waist seems designed precisely to show off the art it’s barely covering. He’s so beautiful, but it’s the look in his eyes that takes my breath away.
“Thank you,” he says quietly.
“For what?” I clear my throat when my voice comes out hoarse.
“For checking on me. For caring.”
For caring.
Tears prick my eyes as I study him in the soft light. I wouldn’t have to know anything about his past to know he’s not used to that.
Do you have any idea how much I care about you?
“Of course,” I force out. “You hungry? I can have food sent up.”
His intense gaze sends shockwaves through my body. My own focus drops to his tattooed fingers holding the towel. I find his eyes again, desperate to read the storm raging in them.
“What do you really want to ask me?” he says quietly.
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.”
I trace his body slowly before returning to his eyes. “What’s the whole story behind the X tattoo? The long version.”
He flinches but doesn’t look away. “You already know the basics.”
“Maybe. But I don’t think I know the important parts. How it affected you. What it truly means.”
After another lengthy pause, he sighs and steps from the shower.
“You sure you want the whole story? It’s not pretty.”
“I not only want the whole story, I want all these stories.”
He smiles when I run my fingers over more of the tattoos on his arm.
“We’ll be here the entire night if I tell you all of them.”
“I have all night.”
He tilts his head, searching me. “Fine. But I want something in return.”
“What’s that?”
“All your stories.”
I bite back a grin as my pulse picks up. “Deal.”
I let him finish up in the bathroom, but do not let him get fully dressed. Not until we complete the private tour of his body. He didn’t seem to mind my demand if his grin when I banned pants and shirts was any indication.
“So bossy,” he says as I point to the bed.
“My room, my rules.”
“Really…” he draws out with a sly smile.
“Really.” I lean forward for a light kiss. Which becomes a heavier kiss. Which becomes my palm on his cheek, my fingers in his hair, my tongue in his mouth, and ah!
I straighten abruptly.
“Stop distracting me,” I snap. “You’re not getting out of this. Story time.”
He laughs, then falls back to the pillow with a groan. “Fine. What do you want to know?”
“I already told you. Everything.”
“Everything? I’m almost twenty-four. That’s a lot of things.”
“Great. So you better stop stalling and start talking. This one first.” I brush the X with my thumb. “Long version, remember?”
His smile fades as his gaze drifts to the ceiling. “This was one of my more recent tattoos, but in some ways it was the first.”
I take his hand, and his chest rises and falls in a deep breath.
“Tell me,” I say gently.
He blinks at the ceiling, as if the story is playing out above him. “My parents had big plans for me from the day I was born,” he begins in a distant tone. “They named me Perceval after my great-grandfather who started the family business.”
“Which is?”
“Mobile home parks.”
In a thousand guesses, I wouldn’t have guessed that. “Huh. Okay.”
“Exactly. Not really the passion I was wired for. I was never interested in their reality. It was a fight from day one. At the country club, I preferred hanging out with the employees than the other members. At my piano lessons I preferred playing around with my own melodies than the classical masterpieces I was supposed to be learning. At school I focused my efforts on art and music class instead of the ‘important’ subjects, as my parents called them. We fought constantly. I guess they kept hoping I’d grow out of it.”
“Grow out of being you?”
He shrugs. “Apparently. My sister is probably the only reason we never killed each other. She stepped in more times than I can count when things got heated. There was this one time…” He shakes off a memory. “Anyway, she’s the reason I even tried to follow their orders and go to Yorkshire for my business degree. She convinced me to earn the piece of paper, if only to buy myself some time and relief from their tyranny. Honestly, I think she was just tired of watching me get hurt and wanted a break for herself as well.”
“I already know you went. One semester, right?”
“Yeah. It only took a month to learn it wasn’t going to work. I was so miserable, even Paige agreed I had to change majors or drop out. I switched from general business to music business hoping that would help, but it didn’t. I finished the semester, but told my parents at winter break I wasn’t going back.”
“I’m sure they didn’t like that.”
“They kicked me out of the house,” he says with a dry laugh.
I wince as he stares at the ceiling again. “Anyway, Paige had her own place by then and let me move in. It was just supposed to be temporary but it’s hard to gain any momentum when you have a force working so hard against you.”
“Your parents?”
He nods. “For whatever reason in their twisted brains, they thought if they could keep me from achieving any success in what I wanted, I’d be forced back into what they wanted.”
“That’s horrible. I can’t even wrap my brain around that.”
My family has always been my rock and support system. What would it be like to have them trying to tear me down instead?
He pulls in a deep breath.
“No matter what I said or did, they wouldn’t accept it. I had no idea how to get the point across that I would never follow their chosen path. Then, about two years ago during one of our many arguments, they said if I ever got a face tattoo, they’d cut me off completely. I went to my artist the second she could fit me in and asked for the smallest, simplest tattoo we could think of.”
“Val…” I breathe out, tracing the small mark with my finger.
He shrugs and averts his gaze. “So that’s the story. You wanted to know what it represents? Nothing. It’s an X. Also, everything. It’s my freedom. It’s the most insignificant and significant one.”
Wow. My stomach is in knots as I watch him struggle under the weight of the memories.
“I guess they followed through on their threat?”
He lets out a harsh laugh. “They sent some weird official notice informing me I was no longer their son a few days later. So yeah. I just wish it had also convinced them to leave me alone, but I wasn’t so lucky. As you witnessed last year, that notice just changed the narrative from extortion to revenge.”
I nestle close to him, resting my head on his chest. There’s not a person on this planet who deserves that cruelty less than this one. My fingers drift over his skin in the silence, my heart so full of pain and love I don’t know how to begin expressing it. I have so many things to say, but none seem like enough. His soul and mind run so deep. I’m not sure a lifetime would be enough to explore every piece of him.
A lifetime?
A strange feeling rushes through me at the thought. Do I really want a lifetime with him? I never thought I’d want that with anyone. All the guys I’ve dated in the past were barely tolerable for more than a few hours, let alone forever. It worked fine because our busy lives didn’t allow for more than that anyway.
This one, though. This one inspires a surge of panic at the thought of not having him in my life.
“Well, that’s one down,” he says. “Your turn.”
“You want one of my secrets?” I tilt my head up to him.
His lips turn in a weak smile. “I want all of them, but I’ll take one.”
I search his eyes for a second before pushing up to press a gentle kiss on the X tattoo.
“Okay. Here’s one. Before I knew anything about the story behind it, the X was my favorite.”
His eyes soften as they sift over my face.
“You’re so special,” I say, tracing my finger along his cheek. “I knew it before I even met you. I heard it in what you did with my music.”
Emotion filters onto his face as something works its way through his head.
“I’m not the special one,” he says. “You’re the one who changed everything for me, and I’m not talking about a career. I’ll never be able to convey how much your faith in me impacted my life. Up until then, I was starting to think maybe they were right. Maybe I was living a delusion. Maybe I wasn’t any good at this and as worthless as they said. You didn’t just give me a job, you gave me me.”
I blink back tears as I nestle close, and he secures his arms around me. Silence engulfs us as we cuddle together, breathing in the scent of soap and clean linen while soaking up each other’s warmth. His path was hard. So was mine. But would we be here together in this moment if it wasn’t?
“Kind of funny, really,” I say, breaking the long silence. “You’ve been saying no your whole life and know exactly who you are. You just don’t have any faith in that person. I have all the confidence in the world, but have no idea who I am—and I’m too afraid to say no to find out.”
“We make quite the pair, huh?” he says with a smile.
“Kind of perfect if you ask me,” I say, leaning in for a kiss.
Val
“There is no way you wanted to be a stockbroker when you were little,” I laugh out.
In my eagerness to lift the heavy mood, I forced another secret from Larinda. As much as I love the fact that she loves my tattoo, I’m not counting that revelation. I’m not sure I can count this one either, though, with the way my bullshit meter is spiking.
“It’s true!” she cries, swatting my chest.
“Nope. Not a chance.”
“Why is it so hard to believe? Because I’m some ditzy country girl?”
“Uh, no,because no five-year-old except the kids of stockbrokers want to be stockbrokers.”
“Well, I did,” she huffs. “Ask my parents.”
“I’m going to.” I reach for her phone on the nightstand, and she yanks me back. “Hey!”
“What are you doing?”
“I just told you.”
“You’re not actually going to message them from my phone!”
“Why not? You afraid they’ll tell me five-year-old Larinda didn’t actually want to ride the bull on Wall Street?”
“No. Because I did. But if you start that conversation, we’ll be forced to talk to them for the rest of the night, and I have other plans.”
“Really…” I draw out with a slow grin. “Tell me more about these plans.”
She hits me again.
“Ow,” I say through another laugh.
“No. Not until you earn it. You owe me more tattoo stories.”
“Wait, that was it for your secret? I pour out my tragic life story and you tell me you wanted to trade stocks twenty years ago?”
She parks a hand on her hip. “What, my career aspirations aren’t important?”
“Not when you were five.”
“Fine. I’ll give you a bonus secret, but only because I’m sick of listening to you whine.”
“I accept that. Spill it.”
She returns a defiant look. “How about this? I was so nervous the first time I sang a solo that I threw up on the stage.”
“Oh shit,” I say, eyes wide.
She lifts her brows. “Good enough?”
“Heck yeah. Tell me more.”
“About throwing up? Ew.”
“Not the process. Set the scene. Who, what, when, where… all the details.”
She grunts and throws herself back on the pillow in an adorable pout.
“Hey, this entire thing was your idea.”
Her glare is just as cute, and I can’t help but sneak a quick kiss. She tugs me back to deepen it, and for a split second her deflection works. Then I remember she claims she had big dreams of shaking up Wall Street while drinking chocolate milk and coloring baby unicorns.
“Nope,” I say, breaking away from the kiss. “I want to hear more about this epic stage collapse.”
“Ugh. Fine! I was seven and it was Mrs. Cleggs’ junior recital.”
“And Mrs. Cleggs is…?”
“My first vocal coach. I started on violin, but I was terrible, so we tried singing instead. I was better at that. Or so we thought until the recital.”
I bite back a snort at her warning look. “Sorry. Continue,” I force out.
She rolls her eyes. “Anyway, the recital was at the community center and there were, like, fifty thousand people there.”
I don’t do much to hide my skepticism, and she grunts.
“Fine. It was probably more like fifty, but it seemed like fifty thousand to my seven-year-old brain. I was supposed to go first as the youngest, but I refused to go on stage. By the fourth person, she finally convinced me to go out, but I froze. I stood there for about a minute while she hovered just offstage whisper-shouting, ‘From the diaphragm! From the diaphragm!’ over and over again.”
The snort finally escapes. I can’t help it. Poor Mrs. Cleggs. She got what she wanted, I guess, just not in the form she wanted.
Even Larinda is forcing back a grin. “The worst part is the bulk of it landed on Mr. Pickering who was playing the piano. He practically flew out of his seat and screamed ‘FUCK!’ I don’t know which was more appalling to Mrs. Cleggs, the action or the reaction, but she burst into tears and cancelled the rest of the recital.”
“Oh my god.” I’m laughing so hard I can barely breathe. “What did your parents do?”
“They took me out for ice cream to try to cheer me up. For the next four years Tia would ask me to throw up at all my recitals so we could get ice cream.”
“No way. And did you?”
“No!” she cries, shoving me. “No. I practiced every day after that. Visualized the stage, sang in front of my family, then extended family, then church… more and more until I was an old pro by the next recital.”
“Yeah, but did Mr. Pickering play for you again?”
She swings a pillow at me, and I swat it away, laughing.
“Yes, if you must know. In fact, he said I did a wonderful job compared to last year.”
“I mean, ‘not puking on him’ would have raised the bar so…”
She hits me again.
This time I wrap her in my arms and hug her close. She squirms for just a second before erupting into giggles. I’d almost forgotten I was only in my underwear, but once she hooks her leg between mine, that fact becomes incredibly relevant. Her smile fades as she searches my eyes, the silence tense and heated. Her hand slides up my chest, triggering a rush of chills over my bare skin.
“My turn again. What about this one?” she asks, pressing a kiss to my right shoulder.
“It’s in memory of my cousin who passed away when we were thirteen.”
“You were close?”
“Very.”
“I’m sorry. And this one?” She drags her lips down my side.
I pull in a steadying breath.
“Lyrics to my favorite Redburn song that inspired me to pursue music.”
“And this?”
She tugs the band of my boxer briefs to expose the candle flame on my hip.
Shit, she’s gonna kill me with this interrogation.
When her hand drifts up my thigh to join the fun, I groan and throw my arm over my face.
“This doesn’t seem fair,” I mumble through the growing heat.
“Want me to stop?”
“Hell no.”
Her grin would make that impossible, and when she pulls the band down further, it’s over. She’s getting whatever she wants. Right now it appears to be the thing I’ve also been craving for over a year.
Her fingers tighten around me, then her lips in a coordinated dance that has me completely at her mercy. I grip the sheets as she works my body, fire ripping through every vein and artery. The room fades. Blood pounds. Intense pleasure rushes in wave after wave. Climbing, soaring, and?—
“Hold on,” I gasp out.
She looks surprised, maybe a little hurt, as she pulls back. “Really? You don’t like it?”
“What? Of course I do. It’s the opposite. I want this to last way longer and I want you there with me.”
Her confusion makes my stomach drop. Shit. What did I say? All I want is for our first time to be as good for her as it is for me.
She stares at me, and my heart sinks further with each second of silence. When her eyes cloud, I kick myself.
“Hey,” I say gently. “I’m so sorry. I just?—”
“Will you shut up?” she mumbles, shoving me back down.
She climbs up until she’s stretched over me, her face hovering just inches from mine.
I’m relieved, confused, and entirely turned on when she leans in for a long, deep kiss. She breaks it abruptly and straightens to pull off her top.
What exactly is happening right now?
The question fades quickly as I get lost in the art of her body. I’ve seen her in just her underwear and bra many times during costume and outfit changes. But it’s different when the performance is for you. When it’s not an accident but an invitation.
She’s quiet as I run my palms along her sides. Goose bumps break out over her skin, and I can’t tear my eyes away. She’s straight-up mesmerizing. How is this happening? How can someone like me even be here with someone like her?
“You’re so beautiful,” I say quietly. “You’re sunlight breaking through my clouds.”
Tears well in her eyes, and I take a heavy breath. God, I’m such an idiot.
“Larinda, hey. I’m so sorry if I’ve done something?—”
“I love you,” she says, cutting me off. “I love you and I want to be with you. I don’t care about the rules anymore. I can’t even imagine being with anyone else. No one has ever made me feel cherished the way you do. No one has ever made a relationship about me.”
Rare emotion pricks at my own eyes as I absorb her beautiful and heartbreaking confession. I don’t understand how anyone who held her heart wouldn’t appreciate the treasure in their hands.
“Larinda…” I shake my head. What do I even say to that? I love you too isn’t nearly enough. You’re the best thing to ever happen to me is true but too much of a cliché. I’m so glad Chad made me help him buy mints so I could get condoms. Also a no.
“I’ve lived in a shadow for as long as I can remember,” I say, holding her gaze. “Of course this relationship is about you. You’re my fucking sun.”
Tears break from her eyes and trickle down her cheeks. It’s no wonder I’m so mesmerized when I have a living rainbow hovering over me.
She moves in for another kiss that quickly escalates into more. My fingers tangle in her hair as I flip us around so I’m on top. Her hips instinctively lift to press against me, and suddenly, I really am grateful for Chad and his weird-ass spy missions.
“Please tell me you have a condom,” she moans as we grind against each other.
I tug her head back to kiss down her neck, loving her impatient whimpers.
“I do,” I chuckle through a string of kisses. She shivers at the tickle on her sensitive skin and slides her own hand into my hair. I love the slight burn of her desperate grip.
“Val, please. I’m tired of waiting.” Her expression is too cute for words.
“Okay, just a sec.”
I reach for my bag on the floor and pull it open. It only takes one look for my high to crash. Hard.
Oh no.
Pushing up, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed for a deeper search.
“What’s wrong? Everything okay?” She settles behind me and rests her chin on my shoulder. “If you don’t have one, it’s fine. We can do other stuff.”
“No, that’s not the problem.” Shit shit shit. “I mean, yes, but… fuck!”
I jump up and swipe my sweatpants from the floor.
“You’re leaving?” she asks in alarm. “What’s going on?”
“It’s fine. I’ll be right back. I have to find the bag.”
“What bag?”
“The bag from the store.”
She squints at me. “Okay? Look, I want to have sex with you too, but it’s not a big deal if we have to wait a little longer.”
I shake my head. “What I didn’t tell you is that the ‘mix-up’ with my room was because Jarvis claimed it for his clone army. If the bag is still in that room, he might find it.”
“So?”
I give her a look, and her eyes widen as understanding sets in.
“The condoms,” she whispers. “And he’d know they were yours.”
“Exactly. He already suspects something between us. I’ll be right back.”
I’m still tugging on my shirt as I make my way to the door.
This is bad.
This is worse than bad.
“Better if she cheats!!” plays on a constant loop in my head as I practically run to the elevator. Oh the irony that after sacrificing everything to keep her from falling victim to Jarvis’ plot, I might be the reason he wins.
“How could you be so stupid?” I hiss at myself as I punch the fourth-floor button. “What is wrong with you?” My bare foot taps on the cold tile as I run a hand through my hair. When did these elevators get so slow?
Someone clears their throat, and I look up to see a couple back further against the opposite wall. Oh. Crap.
“Hi,” I say with a tight smile.
“Hi,” the woman replies, frowning with pity. “You okay, sweetie? Have you eaten today?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Here.” She fishes through her purse.
The elevator stops at floor five, and before I can react, she shoves something at me as they step through the door.
“Take care of yourself,” she says as it closes.
I look down to find a granola bar in my hand. Huh? What just happened?
It’s then that I also notice I have no shoes, my pants are on backward, and my shirt isn’t my shirt. It’s Larinda’s nightshirt that reads “Angel On Duty.” The small tent in my sweatpants probably isn’t doing much for my case either.
Shit. Oh well. That’s the least of my problems.
I shove the snack in my pocket because I am kind of hungry, actually.
Once the elevator reaches my floor, I launch down the hall and pull the key from my other pocket. At least I remembered that. Shoving it in the slot, I hold my breath as I wait for the reader to click green.
It’s red.
“What the hell?”
I must have done it wrong. I flip the card and insert it again. Still red. Other side. Also red.
“Shit, shit, shit.”
I try it five more times but nothing works. What if they already changed the keys since they transferred the room?!
I run down the hall to Chad’s room, praying I left the bag there and not in my original room.
He answers on the second knock, and for a fraction of a second I forget my nightmare.
What the…
“You like it? It’s magical.” He holds up his hands and spins amidst the resplendent purple glow outlining our room.
“Are those fairy lights?”
“LEDs. They’re purple.”
“I see that. Um…” Yeah, I got nothing. “You know we’re only here for a night, right?”
“Exactly! Have to make it count. Actually, you’re in luck. I just finished sorting the goods and was about to go deliver them to Jarvis. Want to come? Unfortunately, I can’t give you credit, since you didn’t help.”
“I’m good, but thanks for the offer. Hey, did you happen to see my bag from the store lying around?”
I scan the room, which is markedly harder to scan now that it’s purple.
“Yep. Right over there.”
Thank heavens!
“Jarvis dropped it off a few minutes go.”
Oh.
I force myself to calm through the sudden panic.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Chad continues. “Why, Chad, how come you didn’t give Jarvis his mints while he was here?”
God, I wish that’s what I’d been thinking.
“No explanation necessary,” I say. “You do you.”
I scoop the bag from the floor and rifle through it. My heart drops into my stomach when I notice the box is gone. Everything else is there, but no condoms.
Fuck fuck fuck.
“Well, the answer is, I forgot.”
“Huh?” I say, looking up.
This is… What am I going to do?!
Think!!!
“I forgot to give him the mints,” Chad says.
“What mints?”
“You know, the mints!”
I shake off my terror. “Oh, yeah, right. Okay. I have to run. Thanks for this.”
I need to find the others and talk through this disaster. Maybe there’s some way to spin it for damage control.
“I forgot because we got to talking about you, actually.”
I freeze and turn around.
Chad’s eager grin is even creepier in violet, it turns out.
“What about me?”
“Just gossipy stuff,” he says with a chuckle.
“What kind of gossipy stuff?”
He shrugs. “Jarvis wanted to know if you were seeing anyone. Probably wants to invite you and a plus-one to the party tonight.”
Probably not. Wait, what party? Never mind. Not important right now.
“What did you tell him?” I ask, heart pounding.
“The truth.”
Oh god.
“That I didn’t know but thought it might be Sage and/or Coriander. Sorry for blowing your secret. Sacrifice one for the many, though, right? It’s part of the code.”
Air rushes back into my lungs. I’ve never been so happy for his unintelligible code.
For maybe the first time ever, Chad’s terrible spy skills might have saved Larinda and her career. I can let the world think I’m into Sage and/or Coriander if it means hiding the truth.
“Yeah, um, it’s fine,” I say. “Thanks.”
“No problem. Relationships, man, am I right?”
So right.
After changing into real clothes, I barely make it into the hall before a phone is shoved in my face.
“And here he is!” Sage chirps. “You all ready to meet Val?”
I have no clue who she’s talking to since Coriander is the only other person present and I’m pretty sure she knows me at this point.
“Say hi to our crew!” Coriander says, coming up on my other side.
“Uh, hi,” I say to the phone screen. Wait, are they filming?
“In case you’re just joining us, we’re live with Val Andrews, Larinda’s talented—and sexy—producer!” Sage says.
Wait, they’re live?!
“Isn’t he just the cutest?” Coriander adds.
I force an awkward smile, doing my best to scan past them for an out. How did they know where I was staying? Wait, why are they even here?
“So cute. And single!” Sage says.
“For now,” Coriander adds with a giggle.
Huh?
“You mind if we ask you a few questions for our Cagelicious Crew?” Sage asks.
“Your what?”
“Our followers,” Sage hisses, flipping the phone so I can see the screen.
And yep, that’s me… looking like they caught me right after learning my condoms were stolen by my rival who’s trying to destroy my secret girlfriend.
“First question,” Coriander says in a grave tone. This must be her journalist persona. “What is your music?”
I blink at the screen as they wait.
“What is my music?”
They nod.
“I don’t…”
“Ah! I think we stumped him, girls!”
I think they’re right.
“Okay, next question. If you could only pick one, which would it be?”
She turns the screen back to me.
All I see is a baffled version of myself. What exactly am I picking? I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess they’ve never interviewed anyone before. Have they ever asked someone a question?
“The third one,” I say dryly.
“Ooh, scandalous. I like it.”
“Thanks?”
“Do you have any questions for us?”
The way they think questions work? No.
“Not really. It was great meeting you all,” I say with a tight smile.
“You too,” they say. “Kisses!”
They faux applaud for the camera.
Is anyone even watching this? Didn’t they just decide there would be a “this” yesterday? I’m amazed they even got past the grueling name phase.
“We’ll see you later, sweetie!” Sage calls as I start toward the elevators.
I lift a hand in acknowledgement without turning around.
“So lucky,” Coriander says to someone. “Can’t wait.”
Are they talking to me? About me? I’m so confused.
“I don’t know. Let’s ask him. Hey, Val,” Sage shouts.
I turn back to see the phone pointed at me again.
“If you could only be one candy, which would it be?”
“Mints.”
They squeal and turn the phone back to them. “Oh my glory. Did not see that coming!” Sage cries.
“Me neither!” Coriander agrees.
“You heard it here first on… Cagelicious,” they say in unison.
I do my best to ignore them as I continue my journey back to Larinda.
I’ve barely finished knocking when a hand grabs my arm and yanks me into the room. Larinda closes the door and leans against it with a deep breath.
“Careful. Sage and Coriander are streaming,” she whispers. “Don’t say anything about the condoms.”
Um. About that…
“We should be safe. They’re on my floor now,” I say.
“Oh no. Did they track you down too?”
“I think so?”
She looks irritated as she stomps toward the couch and throws herself down. “I get that they want to be vloggers, or sell light fixtures or whatever, but they can’t use my life and my career for content! I can’t believe they just showed up at myroom expecting me to be on their show! And now they’re going after you too?”
That was a “show”?
“I totally agree with you. This whole thing is a huge invasion and violation.”
“I know! I thought they were my friends, but I feel so used right now.”
“Probably because they are using you.”
“Gah! I want them to stop. My life is my life, not theirs. I’m so tired of them following me around and acting so entitled.”
“So tell them to stop.”
She furrows her brow and stares at me. I squint back.
“What do you mean?” she asks.
“I mean, tell them this isn’t working for you anymore and they need to move on.”
Her eyes widen. She opens her mouth to speak. Then closes it again.
Has it really never occurred to her to set boundaries?
“You know all of this is in your control, right?”
Her anxious gaze flickers toward the foyer as if her contingent could show up at any second. And they could. That’s the problem.
“They might hate me,” she says quietly.
“They might.”
I lower myself beside her and pull her against me.
“But isn’t that better than being held hostage in every aspect of your existence? What do they contribute to your life and well-being?”
She shakes her head, and I tighten my hold.
“I’m… not sure.”
“Relationships are supposed to go two ways,” I say softly, kissing her hair. “You don’t have to decide anything now, just think about it. It’s okay to set boundaries. No one has a right to your life but you.”
She threads her fingers with mine and grips hard as she thinks.
Is this getting through? I really hope so. I’m tired of watching everyone take advantage of her. I hate that she’s so shocked by my deference. She deserves to be worshipped, not used.
“Speaking of boundaries,” she says. “Is everything good with the condom situation?”
“Well…”
“Val?”
“Not exactly.”
“You couldn’t find the bag?”
“No, I found the bag.”
“But…?”
“The condoms weren’t in it.”
She bites her lip as we exchange a long look. “That’s not good.”
“No.”
“Do you think Jarvis suspects they were for me?”
“No. I think he suspects they were for Sage and Coriander.”
I expect hysterical laughter. Her pensive squint is mildly alarming.
“Larinda? That’s ridiculous, right?”
“Of course. Or… well… maybe not.”
“Maybe not?”
This conversation just keeps getting worse.
She tilts her head back to me, and I take a deep breath at her concerned expression. “It might explain some things, that’s all. I had something to tell you about tonight. It didn’t make sense at first, but maybe it does.”
“What about tonight?”
“Um, Jarvis is insisting on going out.”
I release a breath. “Okay. I mean, we knew stuff like this was going to happen.”
“Yeah, but he’s insisting on inviting you too.”
“Me? Why would he want me along?”
“I don’t know, but given all of these developments, it can’t be good, right?”
“That’s a pretty safe bet.”
“Which is why you can’t go.”
I huff a laugh. “I’m not leaving you alone with him, especially if he’s up to something.”
“But what if it’s to hurt you somehow?”
“It probably is.”
Her brows pinch, and I plant a kiss to soothe them.
“Whatever he has planned is just the latest ploy in his scheme. He probably doesn’t know we’re onto him, so we have the advantage of going in prepared.”
She settles back, drawing my hand to her lips. “It’s not right,” she whispers.
“No. None of this is.”
“What are we going to do?”
“About what?”
“About everything?”
I sigh and study the far wall. “I don’t know, but we’re doing it together.”