Chapter 31
Eric indicated that he was coming to the back of the room to talk to me, but it took him a while to get there. First, he had to acknowledge the adoration of the crowd. He posed for a few photos and signed some napkins, a couple of T-shirts, a shoulder, and the expanse of skin above one woman’s breasts.
But now he was finally in front of me, wearing his self-satisfied, rock-star smile. It was a confident smile, with a touch of arrogance. A real panty-dropper.
Once, I would have been sucked in by that smile, willing to do just about anything so long as he kept it aimed on me. But I deserved better. I deserved respect. I deserved to be supported and valued, and even cherished.
To be treated the way Cy treated me.
“So, Mags,” Eric said, putting his hand on my waist without asking for permission. “Should we get out of here? Let’s pick up something to eat and go back to my hotel room to talk, okay babe?”
I glanced around. Everyone else in the room had backed up several feet to give us at least the illusion of privacy, Joy and Amber included. But plenty of people were still gazing avidly at Eric, and I couldn’t blame them for that. He had plenty of charisma. It was a shame he’d let his fame go to his head.
“We’re not doing that.” I kept my voice sweet seeing as half the town was watching, but my heart was pounding. Eric had never been easy to say no to, and he was an expert at ignoring things he didn’t want to hear.
“What, you’re not hungry?” He smirked as though he found it funny.
“You owe me fifteen thousand dollars, Eric. The only place we’re going together is to the bank.”
“Sure, I’ll pay you back.” He put his other hand on the other side of my waist, smiling warmly down at me. “But it’s Friday night and the bank is closed. I’ll give you the money on Monday, when we’re back in New York.”
“I’m not going back to New York with you.”
Leaning close, he lowered his voice to a murmur. “You’d rather stay in this hick town?”
“Take your hands off me, Eric.” My tone was starting to get less sweet. As usual, he was ignoring what I wanted. How had I put up with his crap for so long?
“Babe, you should?—”
“Get your hands off me!” I hissed it louder than I’d meant to, and several of the people standing closest jerked their faces to us, their eyes wide.
Suddenly, Joy was back on one side of me and Amber on the other.
“Everything okay?” asked Joy.
“Everything’s fine,” said Eric, his hands still on my waist. “Ladies, would you give us a little space?”
“Don’t go anywhere,” I told them. “Eric, get your hands off me right now.”
“Fine!” With a heavy sigh, he snatched them off my waist and held up both palms. “Look, I’m not touching you, babe. I’m only trying to apologize. Why are you acting this way?”
“You can go back to New York now.” I stared him straight in the eyes, my tone hard and final. “I’m not coming with you. And seeing as I have no faith that you’ll ever pay me back the money you owe me, you can leave your guitar instead. I’ll take it as payment, and we’ll call it even, seeing as I happen to know someone who needs one.”
I glanced around, but Gemma was nowhere in sight. She’d mentioned she couldn’t play her old guitar and was saving for a new one. Eric had the best guitar money could buy. And when Gemma’s friends found out she’d been given Eric Storm’s guitar, she’d probably be the most popular girl in school.
Eric frowned. “Babe, come with me and?—”
“I never want to see you again. We’re over, Eric. For good. So goodbye.”
His face twisted. My answer was finally sinking in. “You’re making a big mistake,” he snarled. “I could have any fucking woman I wanted.”
“But you can’t have me.”
“You heard her, mister!” Joy folded her arms, lightly bumping her shoulder against mine.
“Yeah! You can’t have her.” Amber did the same on my other side.
All three of us glared at Eric. A united front. And I’d never been so happy to have friends by my side.
Eric’s lip curled and for a moment he looked like he had no idea what to do. Then he spun on his heel and strode out, pushing through the remains of the crowd to get through the door.
I sagged. My heart was still thumping. “Thank you. Both of you, so much.”
“Of course!” Joy put her arm around me.
“We’ve got you, girl.” Amber looped her arms around both of us and squeezed us both. “I never liked his music anyway.” It was a blatant lie, but I appreciated the sentiment.
When they let me go, I looked back toward the stage to make sure Eric’s guitar was still there. Sure enough, it was right where he left it. At least one good thing had come from our crappy relationship.
I was about to let out a relieved breath, when Amber grabbed my arm, her grip tight. In the same moment, Joy made a surprised sound, jabbing me in the ribs with her elbow. Both my friends were staring at the door.
“Oh my God,” Joy gasped. “He looks . . .”
“Hot!” exclaimed Amber.
I gave an impatient click of my tongue. Hadn’t we been through this already? I didn’t care what Eric looked like. What mattered was all the ugliness he had underneath.
I turned to say so, and the words died in my throat.
Cy was standing in the doorway. My heart fluttered when his eyes connected with mine. He’d had his hair styled in a textured crop cut, and his beard was short enough to really show off his angular cheekbones and square jaw. Why had he been letting his beard hide so much of his face when it was so nice to look at? Combined with his new clothes—dark-wash, slim-fit jeans and a crisp, white button-down—he looked more than hot. The right word was spectacular.
As he walked toward me, his eyes fixed on mine, and every muscle in my body went weak.