Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Wade
I wanted her like I hadn’t wanted anything in a long time.
The hum in my veins. The ache in my body. It was something entirely animalistic and not rational. Not the way I’d goaded her downstairs. Not the way I’d led her mouth to mine—her body on top of mine. Animalistic to want to prove myself as more—as right for her instead of my brother.
But she still held back.
Her hesitation was as obvious as the damn blush in her cheeks, and I hated the thought that it was because of Blaze. Even if they weren’t together, she still wanted him, and that meant I had to stay away. Unfortunately, I’d already tasted her. The sweet warmth of her mouth, her tongue like sugar the way it dissolved against mine. The honey of her skin, her flush making it even sweeter…
I threw off the covers with a groan and pushed myself upright. I ran my hand through my hair and glanced at the clock. “Dammit.” It was too fucking early. Or late, I guess, since I hadn’t slept.
I reached for my water bottle, the plastic light in my hand since it was almost empty. I popped the cap, and no sooner did I bring it to my mouth for a swig than my phone started to vibrate on the nightstand.
“Shit.” I grabbed it and swiped to answer. “What is it, Mikey?”
There was no good reason to call someone at four thirty in the morning. No good reason for my private investigator to call at any time of the day or night. His calls only spelled bad news.
“The Chronicle is printing something today about Blaze’s whereabouts,” my inside man rumbled.
The Celebrity Chronicle was the worst tabloid offender. They were notorious for their celebrity news and getting stories that no one else seemed to be able to get—stories that bordered on lies, defamation, and harassment. But they were stories that sold, which meant they had the money to deal with the lawsuits that inevitably came their way.
They’d been a real pain in my ass since Blaze’s first movie deal. Initially, I’d gotten them to back down with the threat of legal action, but once Blaze became famous enough…well, the reward for their trashy drama was worth the risk, and the higher his star shot, the harder they fought for the story of his fall.
“Fuck. Today?” I stood and threw on the light, my footfalls landing hard on the floor as I grabbed some clothes.
God, I wished Blaze had brought a single suit with him. Who was I kidding, he probably didn’t own one. He liked the small-town, rugged celebrity persona. It seemed to cater to everyone.
“Yeah.”
“Is that really all the warning you got?”
“You know I call as soon as I hear anything concrete,” he replied, and as pissed as I was, I believed him. I paid him too well for the alternative to be the case. “They’ve really kept this one under wraps. I’m not sure how or why. My contact at the printer called me when he saw the first run come through.”
“Who talked?” Who was I going to have to sue?
“Not sure?—”
“What’s the Chronicle’s angle?” I pinned my phone to my shoulder and tugged on the jeans I’d discarded last night. I should’ve washed them—at least the spot where Lou had soaked them, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I wanted to wear her desire for me with pride. On these jeans. On my mouth. On my cock.
I turned and banged my knee into the corner of the bed. “ Dammit ,” I hissed.
“He couldn’t tell me. Everything was already packaged up for distribution by the time he saw it. It was a real hush-hush job.” Mikey sounded just as pissed about the fact as I was.
“Shit.” When the tabloids kept it extra quiet before print that usually meant they thought they had something good. Which meant they had something bad. Like a story about how my brother drunkenly fell down the stairs and ended up in a coma.
“Alright. Thanks for the heads-up.”
“I’ll let you know if I hear anything else,” my PI said and ended the call.
I shoved my phone in my back pocket. Briefcase. Keys. Wallet. Room key. I was ready and out the door in a couple of minutes.
Unfortunately, even if the magazine didn’t hit shelves until stores opened, the Chronicle would drop the story online at five a.m. I’d dealt with them enough times to know their publishing timelines. Once it was online, all bets were off on how long it would take for the hordes of reporters and fans to get to the hospital and start to harass the staff. The sooner I got there to prepare everyone, including Mom, the better.
As I headed for the stairs, I paused for just a second to look at Lou’s door. Shrouded in shadow, I hoped at least she’d gotten some sleep. If she hadn’t, was it because she was thinking of me or thinking of Blaze?
Fuck.
Why her? Why did I have to want my brother’s girlfriend?
Ex-girlfriend.
I told myself the distinction mattered—that it had been a boundary that felt like a law if I’d broken it. I told myself it was only hearing the law didn’t exist that allowed me to kiss her. I told myself a lie. Deep in the recesses of my mind, I knew I would’ve broken every law, committed any crime, just to kiss her.
I considered knocking to tell her what happened and that I was leaving, but I decided against it and hurried downstairs. It was better she stayed here away from the publicity mess. Who the hell knew what kinds of things they’d assume or write about her—about her and Blaze—if they saw her at the hospital.
I gritted my teeth. I didn’t want the world to have any other opinion of Lou Kinkade other than that she was mine.
“Someone had to have talked to them.”
“I promise you, Mr. Stevens, no one on your brother’s care team would’ve revealed anything. That’s not how we do things in a small town,” the nurse insisted.
“I want to speak to Dr. Cooper.”
“He’s not in yet?—”
“Then get me his cell phone number,” I demanded firmly and strode back into Blaze’s room.
I checked my phone again like that would make the minutes tick by faster and then peered out the window as though I expected to see them start to line up around the block for a look, or a comment, or an inside scoop.
Air hissed through my tight lips. God, I hated the press.
“Wade.”
I turned as my mother entered the room, her face stricken and her hands shaking as she closed the door. “Mom.”
She looked at me and then at my brother, and when I realized she wasn’t able to take another step, I went toward her and pulled her to my chest .
“Why can’t they just leave him alone?” she whispered, heartbroken against my chest.
“Because there’s too much money to be made in misery.” And if that wasn’t the principal tenet of the mainstream media, I didn’t know what was.
“It’s all my fault.” Her tears started to leak through my shirt.
“No, it’s not,” I rumbled. It was decades ago that she’d first spoken to them, thinking it would help Blaze’s career. “Whatever it is, I’ll handle it,” I promised and checked my phone again.
Two minutes.
“That’s my fault, too,” she said and pulled back from my hold, her eyes shimmering. “I’m sorry I never stood up to him.”
Her words tightened a band around my chest. When Dad and Blaze had it out, I was always the one who stepped in to take the fall or defend Blaze. Mom never argued with Dad. Not that he was abusive or she felt threatened. She was just a people pleaser. She wanted to make Dad happy just as much as she wanted Blaze to feel loved. So, while I was sacrificed on the altar as the perfect prodigy, Mom would rush away to take care of Blaze and unknowingly widen the divide between us.
“It’s in the past,” I told her roughly, opening my cell and refreshing the Chronicle’s home page.
“No.” She stopped me with a hand on my arm. “He’s in the past, Wade. We aren’t.”
My eyes flicked up to hers, holding them for a second before I looked back to my phone.
“Where’s Lou? Is she okay?”
I gritted my teeth, my thumb slamming on the screen to refresh. “She’s fine. Sleeping, I’m assuming. I didn’t want to wake her for this. I thought it would be better if she… wasn’t here.”
The reporters… paparazzi… they were ruthless. They were the ‘get the shot now and apologize later’ type of people. Intrusive. Abrasive. Soulless. And they weren’t the kind of people Lou would know how to handle.
She was too trusting. The kind of person who left her purse tucked behind the reception desk at various points throughout the day, unguarded. I knew she left her room unlocked during the day, too, trusting that the other guests either didn’t realize or that they wouldn’t invade her privacy. I didn’t judge her for it. It was a small-town mentality, and it worked in a small town.
But Blaze Stevens wasn’t a small-town phenomenon.
“You’re right.” Mom nodded and took up her post at Blaze’s bedside, my brother still breathing evenly and lying completely unaware of how the world was turning and transforming around him. “I don’t want them to scare Lou off—to ruin what she and Blaze have. It must’ve been so precious to him that he didn’t tell me—tell anyone about her.”
My throat went tight, and I gritted my teeth, the truth barreling around like a wrecking ball in my mouth.
She wasn’t his. He didn’t care for her the way he should have—the way he should’ve cared about all the things that mattered. His friends. His career. His family. He was reckless with it all, and Lou had been no exception.
She wasn’t his anymore. She was mine.
But I swallowed the words instead. With no change in Blaze’s status over the last week, Mom needed this kind of hope. She needed something good to hold onto. And she definitely didn’t need to hear that I’d been the one kissing Lou last night. That it was me she’d wanted. My lap she’d ground herself on until she came.
Mom didn’t need to know that a future hadn’t been in the cards for Lou and Blaze and never would be. Not if I had anything to say about it.
My phone refreshed, and it took a second for the breaking news headline to update.
And then my heart dropped into my stomach.
Blaze Stevens hiding away in Maine with new girlfriend!
I scrolled, my eyes scanning so fast that my head started to pound. Friendship. The Lamplight Inn. Elouise Kinkade. Pictures of Lou and Mom in front of the inn yesterday, Lou’s face bright and smiling as Mom held her arm. I read it twice before a string of vicious curses broke through my lips.
“What is it, Wade? What did they write? They can’t print about his medical condition. They can’t cross that line. I don’t care if I have to go to their CEO myself, I won’t let them?—”
“Mom,” I growled and grabbed her shoulder to stop her where my words failed. “It wasn’t… they didn’t write that he’s in the hospital.” I turned my phone so she could see.
Her brow creased, then lifted, and then her hand covered her mouth in a gasp. “Oh, no. Not Lou…” She looked at me, tears threatening to fall. “You have to help her, Wade. They’ll eat her alive.”