Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
T he next few days are madness, filled with performing and travelling to the next venue. We go through the entire setup and sound check again, and the show that night is wild. The crowds only seem to get crazier and crazier.
We hit up the green room every night, and tonight is no different, but Ryker is.
Ever since that first night, he’s back to his old ways, drinking and partying hard.
I watch him do shots with a cute blonde, then they dance and hang all over each other before I turn to my notebook and continue scribbling.
When I look up, he’s heading out of the door, her arm through his.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what they are doing, yet it fucking hurts so much for a moment, I can’t breathe. The room narrows around me, closing in until it’s all I see.
I watch him go, and I know I am completely done.
I kicked him out of my bed, but now I need to kick him out of my heart. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep hurting myself. I’m bound to this band, but the healthiest thing would be to walk away. I can’t though. I’m trapped here with him, so that means I need to cut all this completely off.
Taking my phone, I flee the green room and head deeper into the stadium, entering one of the makeup rooms. It’s empty since everyone is on stage or preparing.
Sitting in the swivel chair, I close my eyes and let out a long sigh. I shouldn’t have expected any less. Fuck, I’m so stupid. I keep doing this to us, going around and around. I’m so fucking weak when it comes to him, and I hate it.
He isn’t mine. I have no right to feel this way.
The door suddenly opens, and a wild-looking Ryker stands there. When his eyes land on me, he slumps.
“You left,” he snaps, panting hard. “I couldn’t find you—” He swallows. “I thought you left with someone.”
His face is red, from alcohol no doubt, but he doesn’t seem drunk. “I needed some space,” I reply. “I’m fine. Go away, back to your entertainment for the night.”
He frowns in confusion before it dawns on him. “Tilly? She’s our new makeup artist. She was going to show me her idea for tomorrow.”
I scoff, and he shuts the door, slipping the lock into place.
I should kick him out.
Didn’t I just say I’m done?
He’s here, though, looking so fucking beautiful it hurts. He’s here with me, his hands shaking at his sides.
The thing is, I would willingly be torn apart again and again just to have his eyes on me. I’d let him break my heart a million times for even just a moment in his presence.
He isn’t mine, but I wish he were. I’m just his bandmate here, his friend, and all I can do is watch as he walks away with blonde after blonde, taking my heart with him. Jealousy and sadness claw at me until I can scarcely breathe.
It hurts to love him.
I’m so tired of it all. I’m so tired of my heart hurting.
Hasn’t it been broken too much before?
“Can you leave?” Even my voice sounds tired. “I want some space.”
“From me?” he asks softly.
“From everyone,” I reply as I turn away and pull out my notebook. My lyrics stare back at me.
“No. I’m not going anywhere,” he snaps, and I glance up at him in the mirror. “We’re going to fix this once and for all.”
My scoff is my only answer.
“Fox, we’re friends?—”
I spin, leaping to my feet. His words unleash a tidal wave inside me. “Friends? I don’t want to be your fucking friend. Can’t you see that?” My chest heaves with my words as I meet his wide eyes, but I can’t hold it back. It flows up like vomit.
I might regret it later, but I’m so tired of holding everything back.
“I never wanted to be your friend, Ryker. I always wanted to be more. I want to be your everything. I want to be the only reason you laugh. I want to be able to kiss you without it being for the cameras. I want to be able to sleep with you in my arms again without it having ulterior motives or PR behind it. I want to be able to love you without it being scripted, but you don’t.
That’s the difference between us. You only want me when the cameras are on, while I always want you, and I’m tired of it.
I’m tired of loving you. It hurts. It fucking hurts, so I’m done.
I’ll be your bandmate, but I can’t be more, so don’t ask me to be. ”
We stare at each other, my words hanging in the air. There’s shock in his eyes, but also something else.
“Fox—” The way he says my name has me stepping back, his eyes filled with pain as he stares at me. “What are you saying?”
I don’t respond for a moment, and he walks over as I turn, the mirror to my left as we stare at each other.
“I’m saying . . . I’m saying I’m done. I’ll stop pushing you or trying.
You will never want me, and that’s okay.
It’s my own fault. I broke my heart, not you, but I need you to let me go.
” Turning away, I head to the door, unlocking it with shaking fingers, but his hands slam against it on either side of my head, shutting it with a bang as his warmth hits my back.
His breath wafts over my ear, and even now, as my heart breaks, my body reacts.
“Let me go,” I beg.
“What if I can’t? What if I don’t want to let you go?” He rests his head on my back, and I hate the way I weaken. One word from him and I’m ready to give in, but my broken heart reminds me of the pain that awaits if I were to do that.
“Please,” I whisper, closing my eyes as I press my forehead to the door and restrain myself from reaching for him. “Please don’t make this harder. Please don’t give me hope where there is none.”
He’s quiet for a moment, and I open the door again, but he slams it shut with his hands, plunging us into the quiet darkness of this room.
“I don’t want to be your friend either,” he states abruptly, and then I’m yanked around, his lips crushing to mine.
He pulls away when I don’t react, searching my eyes before he carries on.
“I never wanted to be your friend either. Fuck the cameras, and fuck what they want. I want this. I want us. I’m not letting you go.
” He cups my face as his lips press to mine again.
I don’t respond, so he bites my lip, making me hiss, and then he sweeps his tongue into my mouth, kissing me deeper, and I finally wake up.
I push him away, and he stumbles backward, his lips stained with my blood as I lift my hand to my mouth.
“Don’t,” I whisper as I feel the cut there. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.”
“I meant every single word.” He tilts his chin up as he stares at me.
“I’ve always wanted you. I’m sorry I was scared.
I’m sorry I was too afraid to admit it or give in.
I’m sorry I hurt you while I tried to figure it out.
I’m so fucking sorry that loving me has made you this way, but I’m not sorry that you love me.
I’m not sorry that you want me. I want you, Fox, more than anything in this world.
Why do you think all my hookups are blonde?
It was as close as I could get to you. You’re all I see and all I need.
I can’t sleep without your arms around me.
I can’t sing without your eyes on me. I can’t perform without your support.
I can’t live without you, and I don’t want to.
I stayed away for so long so I didn’t destroy our band with my selfish desires, but if the alternative is losing you forever, then I’ll be selfish.
” He steps up to me, covering the distance.
“I want you, Fox. I love you. I fucking love you so much. I tried to forget you so many times and move on in faceless bodies, and I regret every one. I regret everybody that has ever touched me that wasn’t you.
They were never you. No one is you. I don’t want to be your bandmate or your friend.
I want to be your everything. I want to be your obsession.
I want to be the only thing you see. I want to be yours. ”
It’s everything I’ve always wanted to hear. I can barely believe it, so I stare, wondering if it’s just my imagination. “Say it again.”
His smile is slow. “I want you. I need you. I love you.”
“What if this ruins us?” I ask, fisting my hands to restrain myself. My heart pounds with excitement and so much happiness I dare not believe it’s real . . . but it is.
He’s telling me he loves me and that he wants me the way I want him.
“I don’t fucking care. I’m tired of it all too,” he murmurs, his eyes filled with fire as he watches me.
I slam into him. His moan fills my mouth as I yank his head back and kiss him.
Our bodies press into one as I back him across the room.
He hits the dressing table, and I reach down and hoist him up, sitting him on the top as I kiss down to his neck.
He cries out, dragging me closer like he can’t bear to be even an inch apart.
“Fox, please,” he begs, the plea heading right to my hard cock, making it jerk behind these ridiculous pants.
“Please what?” I ask against his skin, unable to leave an inch between us in case that one second gives him room to think and he pushes me away. He said it. He crossed that line, and now he’s mine. He isn’t getting away from me now.
I’m not a saint. I can’t resist anymore.
“I’ve dreamed of this,” he murmurs as I slide my tongue up and press my lips to his.
“Of us?” I ask.
“Yes.” He nips my lip. “Of how you would taste, sound, and feel.”
“Me too.” I groan as I slide my hand down his chest to grip his dick through his pants, feeling it harden under my touch. “You want me to fuck you? Want me to make you mine?”
He nods, his eyes wide.
“They can’t have this anymore then, right? It’s mine, and I don’t share.”
“Yes, yes, yes, it’s yours.” His lips brush over mine. “Yours.”
His whimper cuts through the air when I grip him tighter.
Releasing my hold on him, I grab the edges of his stupid jeweled shirt and yank it over his head. He helps me, and then his lips are back on mine as he tugs on my jacket. It hits the floor behind us as he untucks my shirt and yanks on it with a whine.