Chapter 12
Now
Fuck!
I’m not sure how things escalated so quickly earlier, but I know I took it too far.
It was like I couldn’t stop myself from pouring out my feelings to her, even though I knew it wasn’t the time or place to do it.
She drives me wild—completely fucking mad.
It’s like I’m a hormonal teenager all over again.
Tae went from bringing out my cheesy as fuck passion as a teenager to bringing out a new possessive side of me now.
She went from making me want to girlfriend her up and spoil her to making me want to win her back and take care of her at all costs.
One minute she has me reminiscing about what it was like to hold her in my arms, wishing I could’ve done just that the other night in my kitchen.
Then the next morning, she’s giving me the cold shoulder.
Actually, she’s been practically ignoring me every second she can since I found out about Enzo fucking Calvetti.
And then when I finally got her talking to me before her soundcheck, I had to go and fuck it all to hell.
I couldn’t help it—I saw red when Kyle touched her. A foreign possessiveness I’m not sure I’ve ever felt fueled me to threaten her manager, and in hindsight, I know I was out of line.
Which led me to the position I’m in now, standing outside our shared hotel suite like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs, unsure if I should go inside or give her more space.
Taevin texted me about two hours ago to let me know she had to come back to the hotel to get her hair and makeup done by her “glam squad,” whatever the fuck that is.
Braidy gives me a nod as I stand there awkwardly and weigh my options. “Boss lady said you were free to go in. Guess that must mean she’s forgiven you.”
I shake my head. “Afraid I haven’t done anything to earn her forgiveness yet.” Holding up the tray in my hands, I add, “Hoping these will help me take a step in the right direction.”
He chuckles. “I think you’ll do just fine. She’s been texting every ten minutes asking if I’ve seen you or if you’ve stopped by yet.”
“That’s not necessarily a good thing, Braidy.”
Finally, I decide to man the fuck up and go inside the suite, and when I do, I question whether I walked into the wrong one.
A rack with dozens of sequined and bejeweled outfits is set up right near the door, damn near blocking the entryway.
The kitchenette countertop is covered with shoes and boots, cowgirl hats, and more jewelry than someone could probably wear in their lifetime.
But none of that compares to the lit up vanity that wasn’t there an hour ago when I left.
Its countertop is filled with dozens upon dozens of makeup brushes and products.
And sitting in front of that on a barstool is Taevin in an oversized, white hotel robe, hugging one knee to her chest while the other leg dangles over the edge of the stool tapping to the beat of the music playing in the background.
Dumbfounded, I stand there and take in the scene of her in hair rollers, bopping along and lip syncing while a woman looks like she’s beating Tae’s face with some orange thing.
She has her eyes closed, so she hasn’t noticed me standing there staring at her like a creep with a bag of lunch in one hand and a drink carrier in the other.
After her hospitalization in Paris, and hearing what her doctor in Minnesota had to say, I’ve been an anxious mess when it comes to Taevin’s performance tonight.
She mentioned on the flight here that she has had more inflammation than normal due to her tumor, and she was worried about it affecting her vocal chords.
A faint gasp leaves the woman’s lips before she shrieks, “Oh holy shit! I was about to scream but then I realized who you were. You are Taevin’s secret husband, right? Well, I guess it’s not so secret anymore since the news broke about an hour ago.”
My hackles rise. “What are you talking about?”
Taevin’s eyes shoot open before she narrows them at me through the reflection in the mirror. “Oh, just what I told you would happen. You let the cat outta the bag, and now we’ll have to suffer the public disgrace and scrutiny when you inevitably give me my divorce.”
Eyeing the makeup artist suspiciously, I shuffle my feet from side to side, unsure if and how I should respond to that.
“You don’t have to worry about Elsie, she’s like a sister to me and has been with me for five years now. Even so, she’s signed a big, fat NDA so she won’t say shit. Right, Else?”
“Damn straight, beautiful,” Elsie agrees as she looks me up and down. “So, Mr. Secret Hubby, are you going to continue to stand there like a weirdo with those mysterious drinks in your hands, or are you going to take a seat and join our conversation we were just having about you?”
“Else, what the fuck?” Taevin grumbles, lightly shoving her friend’s shoulder.
“Oh, come on. Like he doesn’t probably already know he made you cry yourself to sleep earlier? And if he doesn’t, he needs to and does now. You’re welcome.”
“Elsie!” Taevin admonishes, now covering her face with her hands.
Steering the conversation just slightly, I hold up the bag and drink carrier in my hands.
“I brought provisions. I wasn’t completely sure what you liked to drink before a performance, but I got you a green tea and a berry smoothie—both listed as beverages that help reduce inflammation.
I also brought you a leafy salad with tomatoes and walnuts to try to help.
If I was completely off base, let me know and I can go get you whatever else you’d like. ”
Taevin’s face crumbles into what looks like uncertainty. She’s likely questioning my motives because my current actions don’t match how I behaved earlier.
“Hey, Else, could you please give us a few minutes?” Taevin asks.
“Yeah, no problem. I can go downstairs for a coffee.”
“I’ve got an iced one and a black one here if you want either of those,” I tell her, holding up the drink carrier. “You don’t need to leave. Taevin and I can just go talk in the other room,” I suggest, nodding in the direction of Taevin’s closed bedroom door.
Elsie looks to Taevin to gauge her response.
Tae nods once at Elsie then rises from the barstool and marches toward her room, but not before making sure to shoulder me on her way past. I follow her into the room and shut the door behind me, standing there with my back against the wood as I work through what I want to say to her.
Taevin beats me to it when she asks, “Are you sure she’d be okay with you coming into my room like this right now?”
I blink, my brain trying to catch up. “Who are you talking about?”
“Alexa, your girlfriend.” Taevin states it so detached, as if she’s unaffected by the fact that she thinks I have a girlfriend.
“Alexa is not my girlfriend,” I assure her.
Rolling her eyes, Taevin corrects herself, “Fine, your friend with benefits.”
“Not that either. Last time she and I spoke, she said she had just started seeing someone.” Pushing off the door, I eliminate the space between us until I’m standing toe-to-toe with her like we were earlier.
Taevin’s face scrunches up. “But the two of you seemed comfortable together—you two were cuddling on your couch.”
“I’d hardly consider giving her a noogie cuddling. Bit of a stretch, don’t you think? But good to know I can’t put my arm around a friend because she’s a girl without that meaning we’re either dating or fucking.” I can feel myself getting worked up, so I take a deep breath.
She crosses her arms and quirks a brow. “Oh, that’s rich coming from you, considering you threatened my manager only hours ago for doing just that.”
Breathing out a sigh of defeat, I rub my hand down my jaw. “Shit. You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“And you know that’s not what I meant. The two of you seemed familiar with each other.” I don’t miss what she’s getting at, and if I’m not mistaken, I’d say there’s a hint of jealousy in her tone.
Instead of calling her out on that, I try to put her mind at ease.
“Alexa and I got closer this year because we were sick of being the only two single ones in the group. I did ask her out, and after one date we both agreed we’re better off as friends.
But then when the rest of the group assumed we were something more, we didn’t correct them because it was easier to let them make their assumptions than explain that we’d become really good friends.
We’ve gone to a few events together so her parents stay off her back about needing to settle down and I got my brother and friends off my back about needing to move on and forget about you. ”
Taevin is silent at my admission, her hands dropping to her sides.
“There’s just one problem,” I say as I take another step into her space, crowding her as my chest brushes up against hers.
“What’s that?” she questions, now sounding a bit breathless.
“There’s no moving on from you, Taevin. You made that impossible when you tattooed yourself on my soul.”
“You can’t possibly mean that, J. Especially not after the things you said earlier today—”
I cut her off. “About that. I’m so sorry for fighting with you. There’s no excuse for my behavior. Was I jealous? Yes. But that doesn’t justify the way I spoke to you earlier. I’m so fucking sorry, T.”
She’s silent for so long I worry she won’t forgive me. Finally, she whispers, “Want to make it up to me?”
“I’d do anything to make it up to you,” I tell her, because it’s god’s honest truth.
“Play with me.”
“Wait, w-what?” I barely stammer the question out.
Her eyes widen when she realizes what she said. “I-I meant play for me. As in play your guitar for me—with me on stage. I’d like to sing a duet with you tonight.”
“You want me to perform on stage with you tonight in front of thousands of people?”
“Yes,” she states simply as if asking me to do so isn’t one of the most bizarre ideas she’s ever had.
“I already told you I haven’t touched my guitar in years.”