Chapter 24
SILENCE
Phoenix
Something was wrong. He didn’t know exactly what that something was, but he had felt it the instant Addie returned from the bathroom with Naiomi earlier that evening.
She was way too quiet, and although after the party she smiled and joked around with East and the guys, it was obvious—to him, at least—that something had changed drastically from the start of the night until now, when they were in an actual limo still fully clothed and with about six feet of awkward silence between them despite sitting right next to one another.
Phoenix drummed his fingers against his leg, forming a game plan on how to approach the topic, when the limo came to a stop outside their building. Addie was out of her seat before the driver even opened the door.
Fuck. Whatever this was, he already knew he wouldn’t like it.
They made their way up to their floor in total silence, Addie artfully avoiding his gaze at every turn. As she opened her apartment door, she gifted him a small, flat smile that sent a chill straight to his gut.
The smile didn’t reach her eyes.
Normally glittering with excitement and challenge, her gaze shifted from his and looked anywhere but in his direction. This wasn’t the Addie he knew. Wasn’t the woman he’d grown to care about so damn much.
He couldn’t take it anymore.
He’d give her anything she wanted.
An explanation.
A declaration.
He opened his mouth to ask her what was wrong, and she beat him to the punch.
“I think our arrangement should probably come to an end now,” Addie said in a rush, her words tumbling together, so fast he had to roll them back in his head and replay them.
“What?” He hoped to hell he’d heard wrong.
She fiddled nervously with her keys, hesitant to meet his gaze.
“You’re writing music—and if your late-night humming and your full journal are any indication—a lot of it.
And things at Happily Ever Forever are going great.
Bailey texted me that we got two new bookings just this morning from consultations we did last week, and the Anti-Aphrodite name is finally starting to disappear.
It’s everything we both wanted out of our FAMA arrangement. ”
Fuck.
Fuck.
Phoenix treaded carefully as he focused on her. “Things are definitely better than they were when we first started.”
She nodded. “Right. So we don’t really need the agreement anymore. Why monopolize each other’s time unnecessarily? We’re about to both be so busy it’ll be difficult to even catch a breath.”
Hell, he could barely breathe now.
Every word out of Addie’s mouth was another knife plunge to the chest, and yet he’d done it to himself.
How many times had she warned him that she didn’t do love? That she didn’t believe in it? It’s what necessitated their arrangement in the first place. But somewhere along the way, so focused on how he felt and the feelings she conjured in him, he’d lost track of that.
He hadn’t allowed himself to believe that everything she made him feel wasn’t—at least partially—reciprocated.
Standing in the middle of the hall between their two apartments, Phoenix’s heart broke. There was no other way to describe the pain in his chest, the all-consuming agony that had him fighting to suck in each breath.
He’d give her anything she wanted.
An explanation.
A declaration.
A retreat.
“Adalyn, are you sure—”
“Yes.” The word came way too quickly, but even though her face paled, her shoulders lifted with a hint of the stubborn woman who’d once banged like hell on his door.
“I was so focused on trying to be Muse-like, and doing what we needed to do to get the Anti-Aphrodite thing to disappear that I forgot a few integral things about Muse and Musician agreements and … I’m sorry. ”
Tears shone in her eyes and it nearly broke him.
“Addie.” He stepped forward, hand reaching out to wipe away the first tear, but she stepped back … away from him. “What are you talking about?”
“Everything we’re feeling?” Addie struggled through each word. “Everything we think we’re feeling … it’s not real. It’s—”
“Like fucking hell it isn’t,” Phoenix growled. He closed the distance and cupped her cheek, gently urging her to look at him. “Addie, what I feel for you is the realest thing I’ve ever fucking felt in my life.”
She was already shaking her head, a new wave of tears falling. “It’s Muse Sickness, Phoenix. It’s … it’s the reason why Muse agreements are meant to be so short, and we went over the usual allotment by … a lot.”
“Like fucking hell.”
“There shouldn’t be any … lasting effects,” Addie continued as if not hearing him. “But it’ll be hard the first few days and—”
“Addie, don’t do this. Please. There is no fucking way that this is—”
Addie held a hand out in front of her, as if they’d just sold a car. “Thank you for helping me out of a jam, Phoenix Cross. And I was glad to help you get your musical mojo back.”
The awkwardness grew until she dropped her hand to her side with a softly muttered apology.
Phoenix couldn’t stand the physical distance one second longer.
He inched closer, one small step at a time. Green eyes widening, she countered his moves until her back pressed against the wall.
The second he cupped her cheek, her eyes fluttered closed before opening and locking on him. “What are you doing?”
Her chest heaved with each breath, matching his own erratic pace as he searched her face. Her eyes. He savored the soft skin of her cheek beneath his palm as he brushed his thumb over her lower lip.
“If this is the end, I want to permanently etch every facet of you onto my soul,” Phoenix admitted unashamedly. “Adalyn Love Whitlock”—he slowly brushed his lips against hers in a whisper of a kiss—“you will always and forever be my goddess of love.”
She brushed the tips of her fingers against her mouth and turned toward her door with a silent sob. And fuck, it took everything in him not to barge through the door and run after her.
Phoenix forced his feet back toward his own apartment, working his way through the anger and disappointment, and the white-hot pain ripping through the center of his chest. If he hadn’t just had a checkup, he’d think he was having a heart attack.
Although this was worse.
It didn’t feel like it was just his heart breaking.
It felt like something a fuck-ton more.
Not long ago, he opened this door and stepped into a bright, music-laden world filled with hope and possibility … and Adalyn Whitlock. Now, as he closed the door behind him, with Addie on the other side, the opposite happened.
His world was too damn silent.