32
32
“This is not your fucking fault.” Maya yanks a handful of tissues out of the box on my hotel bed and holds them out to me. I scrunch up the tissue I was just using and throw it onto the little mountain forming beside me before taking the fresh ones. I dab at my face, which feels raw from all the crying. “Win probably hasn’t even connected the dots and thinks you were just coming into the cabin to use the bathroom or something. It’s not that deep, and even if it was, he’s a good guy. If he really cares about you, none of this will matter to him in the slightest.”
“But that’s the fucking problem, Maya,” I sob, fresh tears spilling over as the same damn negative thoughts circle back around in my head. “I don’t think he does care about me. Maybe I’ve been misreading this whole situation with him, just like the Riley/John thing. Totally fucking misreading it.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. That man drove to Coachella and back in one night to pick you up! And as for Riley, babe, you quite literally figured out what she was doing. I mean, fuck the friendship bracelets and fuck her stupid fucking publicity schemes. You. Saw. Through. It.”
“Yeah, I thought so. But seems I was wrong about that too.”
Maya sighs heavily. “What do you mean?”
I shake my head. “So much shit came out about those two and I saw it all on the boat.”
“Explain.”
My body tenses, not wanting to speak it out loud. “Photos of John and Riley making out this morning on South Beach.”
Maya studies me carefully, concern mixed with confusion. “Now why the hell would Riley have John with her in Miami when just yesterday she was blowing up the internet with their explosive fucking breakup?”
I hold my hands out. “Exactly. Do you see why this is such a mindfuck?”
“Jesus Christ, Princess. So, what, it’s pap pics of them making out on the beach in public?”
“Yup.” I drag the word out.
My phone buzzes with a new text. It’s John.
John: Princess . . . I know you’ve probably seen the photos by now, but they aren’t what they seem. It’s too late for us, and I fucked that up, but I need to explain . . . please trust me when I say it’s not what it looks like . . .
My head swims. I don’t know what to believe—what’s before my eyes, or what he says. I want to give him the benefit of the doubt, because deep down I know he wouldn’t hurt me like this. Riley? All bets are off.
“Fuck this.” Maya’s anger seeps through, and she stands up from the bed, pacing in front of me and gesticulating with her hands. “After that whole show of acting like you were best friends? After timing this whole argument with John to hit at the exact moment you were in rehearsals and couldn’t respond? After trying so fucking hard to look like the innocent one in the situation ’cause she couldn’t handle the fact your realest song yet was about the pain her own tragic, shitty actions caused?”
“I’m so done with trying to figure it out. I give up.” I get up, too, and walk over to the wall mirror, groaning when I see the state of my smeared makeup and puffy eyes. “I mean, look at me. I look as if I haven’t slept in weeks, and I feel ten times worse than that. How the fuck do people do it, live day after day in the spotlight dealing with this type of bullshit, never able to tell their side of the story, and not let it destroy them?”
“They don’t.” It’s an instant answer, and I turn around to look at Maya. “Take Val as the example. She was born into this, and life hasn’t been easy on her. Thank god she’s working on herself now but look at the road she had to take to get to this point.”
“I know.”
I watch as she places the tissue box on the little coffee table beside the two plush armchairs near the windows and then takes a seat, crossing her long legs one over the other.
“You know, there is one thing I know for sure,” she says matter-of-factly, looking over her shoulder at me and nodding to the other seat as if I should come join her.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“My new friend took me on a little walk around the deck while we were chatting, just after Win left you alone to go to his cabin, and I definitely heard him listening to your new song in there when we passed by. He had it on a low volume, but I don’t think he realized his window was open a crack. I could hear everything.”
I sink into the other armchair, giddy momentarily. “He was?”
“I swear. Win was listening to it on his own in his little cabin, it was actually so cute.”
“Yeah, but why would he rush to listen to it like that?”
Maya laughs, resting her head in her hand and looking at me as if I’m some cute little kid. “Don’t you get it yet? I’d like to think I’m a pretty good judge of character, and I can tell when a man likes someone as more than just a friend. I think Win went into that room to find some hidden message in your new song, maybe he was hoping it’d be about him. You heard what I said to him: it was a real, deep, unfiltered exploration of your feelings. He probably heard that and wanted to know what was on your mind.”
It all fits together like puzzle pieces inside my head, building a bigger picture that makes perfect sense. The mutual respect. The constant compliments. The check-in texts and calls. The Coachella trip. The sleepover at his house. The special treatment he gives me. The way he joined us for breakfast. The fact he always follows through on his word, unlike any other man I know.
“Oh my god.”
Maya nods. “Princess, Win’s obsessed with you.”
The thought sits on my mind, freezing me from taking action. It feels too good to be true, especially in the midst of all this other bullshit. For the rest of the evening I take a few distracted calls from Kimi and Wayne, explaining how I don’t want to go through with the show tomorrow and never want to work with Riley again, and then I hide away in my hotel room, wrapped in a big white towel after taking a long bath, half watching Friends from my bed, the dark expanse of the ocean calming me through the open balcony doors. I order room service but just push my food around my plate, my appetite totally lost. I end up tossing and turning, desperate to meet sleep, but it never greets me. All I can think about is Win. His carefulness, his soft gaze, his honesty, his unwavering belief in me. I grab my phone, shutting out any second thoughts that creep in, and FaceTime him. “Win . . . hi.”
He’s outdoors, the night sky and palm trees in the background as he walks with purpose while he talks. “Princess.” He sounds relieved to see my face, even though my room is dark. “You okay?” he asks, his voice instantly soothing.
“Much better. I’m so sorry for earlier. I don’t know if I’m being crazy or irrational, but I need to talk to you.”
“Tell me you’re okay first?”
I nod. “I know this is random but I can’t stop—” I pause. “I just need to see you, Win.”
Without hesitation he asks, “What’s your room number?” He enters through some doors, and then he’s inside a hotel lobby that looks all too familiar.
My breath stops in my throat, so my words come out on a gasp as I give him my room number.
“See you in a minute.” He hangs up.
Holy fuck.
I spring out of bed immediately, adrenaline jump-starting my pulse. Win’s coming to my room! I called him, but what the hell am I going to say once he’s here? “Shit, shit, shit.” I grab the bundle of used tissues with my makeup smeared over them and throw them in the trash can, then run over to the mirror to check my face. I already took off my makeup, and my hair’s up in a messy bun, but at least I’m wearing a cute silk nightie, even if it does reveal a little too much skin. No time to change now, though.
“Princess?” His voice comes through the door a second later, followed by three short knocks.
Heat pricks my skin everywhere. Fuck.
I take a deep breath once, twice, as my hand lingers over the doorknob. Then I pull it open slowly, swallowing hard.
Win’s leaning into the doorframe, one arm up above his head, suit jacket open and his top button undone. His tie’s slack around his neck, loosened, and his hair looks disheveled, as though he’s been running his hands through it all night. But his eyes . . . oh my god. Hooded and hungry, he stares at me in silence for a moment, and all else fades out.
“Hi,” I barely whisper.
Stepping forward so quickly I blink and miss the movement, Win places his warm lips over mine and steals any words from my tongue.
The kiss is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. One hand finds my jaw and the other moves to my waist, his hips bumping against me as he shuffles us back into the room. His cologne floods my senses, the skin of his cheek rougher than I expected even though it’s clean-shaven, and when he sighs into the kiss, I feel it flooding through my entire body, filling my head with intoxicating airiness and melting deliciously down through my blood.
He presses me into the wall and my back knocks the light switch, and then Win’s closing the door with one hand and then bringing it back to push his fingers through my hair. He grips a fistful, pulling my head to one side to expose my neck, and my body reacts instantly to his lips and tongue pulsing along my jaw in hot, wet kisses. He groans, and I gasp as I feel his hardness pressing into me, the silk and his suit trousers an antagonizing barrier between us. I want to feel him. I want to be as close to him as possible. I want—
He nips the skin at the base of my neck, his hand on my waist moving up to squeeze my breast through the silk, thumb pinching and hot breath pouring over my chest.
Fuck, I want this.
“Win . . .” I moan, gripping the lapels of his jacket and pushing it off. He shrugs his shoulders to help me remove it, but I’m already working on undoing his tie. As both fall to the floor, he presses his forehead against mine to stare deep into my eyes, breathing heavily.
“Princess.”
It’s like we’re seeing each other for the first time, no walls between us now, nothing hidden anymore. My heart drums in my head, my ears, my chest—everywhere—as I stare back at him, wondering what on earth we should do next. Knowing there’s only one solution to extinguish this burning need.
I kiss him again, once on the lips, and then my kisses move down and I drag my tongue and teeth over his neck, unfastening each button of his shirt as my lips descend across his chest, farther . . . and farther . . . He lets me reach the fifth button before placing his index finger under my chin and lifting my head up to meet his eyes. They’re still hooded, kind of hazy with passion, and so I reach up on tiptoes to kiss him on the mouth, letting my tongue go in the hope he’ll reciprocate.
But he doesn’t.
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he says, breathless.
In the heat of my arousal, I let the words spill out. “I want you.”
Win stops me from reaching in for another kiss, tilting my chin up again to hold his stare. His hand on my waist trails down the length of my nightdress, meeting the lacy hem and moving dangerously close to the space between my thighs. He draws little patterns on my bare skin with his fingertip, only increasing my desire. “I can’t go another minute longer without letting you know how much you mean to me.”
I swallow audibly, all my attention captured by his words.
“Do you know how important you are to me?” he whispers, eyes searching mine through the dim light.
Slowly, I shake my head.
“I see you, Princess. I see who you are deep inside, the love you have in your soul, the attention you give to others . . . the way you look at me. I see all of it. My fucking superstar. I notice everything you do, and it keeps me awake at night to know I can’t tell you all this.”
“Why can’t you tell me?” I ask in a voice that doesn’t even sound like my own. This whole thing feels like walking on air. Dreamlike. Impossible. All I’ve ever wanted.
“Because I don’t know what to do,” Win says with another incredible groan that hits me deep in my core. “I mean, look at you. You’re perfect. And I’m not going to hurt you by being unable to give you my full attention. There’s a lot on my plate right now, and I have so much respect for you, Princess, but I won’t use you. Even if it kills me to wait.”
“It doesn’t have to be just sex, Win. It could be so much more.”
“Believe me,” he says, eyes staring deeper than ever and his words earnest, “it would never be just sex between you and me. You would have everything. In a heartbeat. For as long as you wanted it, until the end of time.”
I can’t reply at all. The way he says the words hits me with a fresh wave of emotion I’ve never felt before. It strikes me all at once this might be the first time anything a man has said to me has ever felt true.
Win continues to stare for a long moment. “I don’t know what to do. Maybe I’ve had too much to drink tonight, but I couldn’t go another minute without letting you know how important you are.”
Before I know what’s happening, he straightens up and steps away from me, adjusting his waistband and running a hand back through his hair. Emptiness washes over me, making me suddenly aware of all the places his body connected with mine. He takes a couple of deep breaths as he paces around in a small circle, and then he says, “Can we step outside? Get some air, maybe?”
I look toward the balcony doors, trying to hide my disappointment. Some air is the last thing I need. I want him to wrap his arms around me and trap me in his atmosphere. I want him to mold us together and never let go.
Instead, I say quietly, “Sure.”
It doesn’t help that his eyes slide over me salaciously as I move, lingering on my chest and taking their time over my legs. He waits for me to walk out first, and then he follows, coming up close as I walk to the edge of the balcony and lean against the glass wall. I stare out at the ocean, closing my eyes and taking in a deep breath of fresh air, so I’m not prepared for him to be quite so near to me when his hands snake around my waist and he presses his weight into my back.
But, god, it feels right.
“I listened to your song,” he says, his voice gravelly against my ear.
I bite my lip to avoid letting him know Maya already told me as much. “You did? What did you think?”
“I think it’s the best song you’ve released so far. You have the most beautiful voice, I can’t get enough of it. Even in its rawest form it’s perfect. Just like you.”
A blush creeps up my neck. I wonder for a second what would happen if someone were to spot us up here, even though we’re far from the sand. Paparazzi sometimes hang around hotels like this one, and zoom lenses can make photos of even the highest balconies crystal clear. There would be no doubting the connection between us if we were captured, eternalized, in this moment right now. Should I even care? With Win I’m safe; I don’t have to worry about people knowing my hotel with him around. I don’t need to panic over the stalker coming back or a crowd of fans invading my privacy. He would handle it. That eases my mind, my body, my heart.
“You’re worried about something,” Win says, and his hands move from my waist to my shoulders, warm palms sliding down slowly, grounding me in my own skin. “Just relax. Whatever it is, I’m with you. Try to push it out of your mind.”
I breathe out to release the anxiety. Win would never set me up for paparazzi shots. Everyone else in this damn industry might be so desperate for fame and success they wouldn’t spend one second considering the damage they cause others—too distracted stepping on anyone to get what they want. But I’m safe with Win. And with his chin resting in the crook of my neck, arms wrapped around my waist again, and the heat of his front warming my back, I feel good. It feels natural. More normal than I’ve ever felt with anyone else.
“Can I ask you a question?” he murmurs.
“Yes.” The word comes out on a dreamy sigh.
“Who did you write the song about?”
I think of the lyrics: the story of a girl moving on from her cheating ex, telling him this is the last straw and he can keep his new girl because she’s found someone better now. Someone who respects her. Someone who makes her feel powerful. Someone who’s always there, without fail, every time she needs him.
My throat goes dry as realization hits.
That someone has always been Win.
“Princess?” he says gently, dragging me out of my thoughts.
I swallow hard and twist my head to look at him, bringing our faces level. Admitting who I wrote the song about feels like too much of a confession, and even with everything he just told me, I don’t know where the truth will lead.
I can’t make myself vulnerable to rejection again.
“Would it change anything if you knew, Win?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper.
There’s a long pause before he answers, his eyes sparkling in the dark of the night. The sea breeze lifts strands of my hair, which lightly brush against Win’s jaw as the distant thump of club music carries across from Ocean Drive. In so many ways, I wish I wasn’t here right now, wish all this drama with John and Riley didn’t exist, wish fame wasn’t such an unforgiving obstacle course and love didn’t have to hurt so much. But I’m not one to cancel. I would never cancel a show, even when my whole life is falling apart behind the scenes. I’d never let my fans down—if anything, I’m more fueled to put on the best performance of my life. They’ll never see me coming.
I’ve worked too hard. I’m not going be to trapped by her games. If Riley thinks I’m not going to show, she never really knew me at all.
But if I hadn’t gone through all that shit, I wouldn’t know to appreciate this moment: just two people finding safety in each other, high up above this big, beautiful, messed-up city.
Win kisses my cheek and I turn to face him. The look in his eyes holds the promise of a new beginning.