Chapter Twenty-Seven
TRISSA
E very muscle in my body had melted into goo. If Killian wasn’t holding onto me, I’d be a puddle on the floor in the backseat of his car. Tonight with him was everything I never knew I wanted or needed.
If someone had asked me last week if I’d be getting hot and heavy with Killian Hook in the back of a club we snuck into as teenagers, I would’ve said they were crazy. But after being in his arms, feeling his mouth on mine, hearing the deep groans falling from his lips, I knew I could never go back to how things used to be between us.
I prayed he felt the same way.
How had I never realized that he had been in love with me all those years ago? And, did he still feel that way? After what just happened between us, I knew for sure he wanted me physically, but was it too much to hope that he still loved me?
Killian’s cell rang and I shifted away to give him a little privacy. He let out a sexy growl and tugged me back into his arms as he answered.
No space. Duly noted.
I had a feeling if I looked in the mirror I’d find a dopey smile plastered on my face.
This possessive side of Killian was like a new kink unlocked.
“This better be good, Oliver Smee, if you’re calling this late,” Killian grumbled. “Yes, she’s here.”
My ears perked up.
“Put you on speaker? Why the fuck should I do that?” He paused. “Fine.”
“Hello, Trissa, darling.”
I smiled. “Hey, Ollie.” We’d interacted over the years as colleagues even as I did my best to avoid Killian.
“I have amazing news, you beautiful grump and sparkling doll.”
“Can you cut down on the cheer and get to it?” Killian’s words only reinforced Ollie’s description of him.
I wanted to giggle at how opposite the two of them were.
“Oh put away your bluster, Killian. I can’t dampen my natural effervescence.” His smugly satisfied smirk came across loud and clear.
I let out a snort-laugh.
When Killian turned an annoyed glare at me, I realized I hadn’t been as quiet as I thought.
“Sorry,” I whispered.
I wasn’t.
He shifted me onto his lap. This seemed to be his go-to spot for me and I was definitely not complaining.
“I’m guessing you haven’t seen the news?” he asked, then without waiting for my reply kept going, “No, of course you haven’t, it’s 2:00 am. You two are everywhere.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Killian’s hand absentmindedly rubbed circles on my thigh. I had to clench them together before I let my hormones decide to open them wide to give him access to stroke my already weeping pussy. This man had the magic touch that could undo me anywhere.
“First of all, I’m a little pissed that you didn’t tell me about you and Trissa.”
I froze.
Killian’s grunt of a response encouraged Ollie to keep talking. “The two of you are everywhere. All over social media. People are shipping you and her.”
“Do people even say ‘shipping’ anymore?” I wondered out loud. Then his words sunk in. “Wait. What do you mean they’re shipping us?”
We’d just decided to fake-date a week ago, and tonight’s date was more like a trial run before the gala. We hadn’t even posted couple photos to our socials yet.
Ollie didn’t even acknowledge my question. He was so excited about the news he was sharing, that it was like I hadn’t spoken. “And thank God the news of your arrest is falling by the wayside. Seriously, Killian, you’re making me go prematurely gray.” I’d almost forgotten the whirlwind of the press trying to get information about the bust. Most of it had been hearsay and between Judd and Jareth they’d been able to downplay Killian’s role.
“Thank fuck. Maybe Jareth will get off my back about that now.” Apparently, Killian was ignoring me, too.
“Ollie! Explain!” I repeated with more authority.
“Hold on. Let me forward you the pics and videos.”
“How does anyone even know?”
Killian’s phone dinged with picture after picture of the two of us. His hand on my arm. The two of us were seemingly gazing into each other’s eyes. Me whispering into his ear when I’d pretended to be confident I’d won at Quarters.
Even though some of the pictures were grainy, I almost believed the hype that we were together.
Were we together now? For real?
“I’m already getting calls and emails about new endorsements and interview requests. They want to know more about how the two of you got together.”
“That’s fucking amazing. I knew people would lose their shit over us, but not like this.” Killian had never sounded so pleased.
What the actual fuck?
“Interest in your old songs and the new album are skyrocketing,” Ollie reported with glee. “This is a great thing, Killian.”
Each muscle in my body tightened. For a split second, I wondered if Killian had known we were being filmed and photographed. Maybe tonight was him scratching an itch. He’d once had feelings for me, but that didn’t mean he had them now. Was this payback? To me?
I was happy that our relationship was benefitting Killian, but why did it seem like things were falling into place far too quickly? Had he used me in hopes that our fake-relationship would help his career?
Not that it needed much help. But still. The ache in my chest intensified and I rubbed at it to ease the pain.
I looked away from Killian. Had I made what happened earlier out to be more than it was?
Unaware of the tension now spiking in the car, Ollie continued, “They’re calling you a changed man, saying how genuinely in love you looked … ” Smee’s voice trailed off.
“And?” Killian prompted him.
“A few, a tiny amount of reporters, are interested in knowing what Peter thinks of the two of you together.”
“Fucking Peter,” Killian grumbled. “If they want to know, they can ask him.”
Shit.
Peter’s text message.
“I know you hate this part, but I should meet with you and Trissa so we can all be on the same page. We need to be in sync about how we’re spinning your new love life to the world.” Ollie sounded so excited for us.
My own excitement was waning fast.
When I tried to move away, Killian’s hand flexed and tightened around my hip.
We hadn’t made any promises tonight except to see where this might go. And while our relationship might have started out as fake, something had shifted between us.
Or at least it had for me.
My heart was wide open and ready for him, but the way he and Smee were casually mentioning what a relationship with me was doing for his career, I had to wonder if this was all a game to him.
“I’m going to text you the list of people I want you and Tris to talk to first,” Ollie said.
I glanced at Killian and noticed his perma-scowl was back in place.
This time when I inched away, he didn’t stop me.
“When do you need a response?” Killian asked, his tone gruff.
“Tomorrow. And yes, I know you hate emails, but I expect you to pick a few reporters to start with. And if you don’t, I’ll be happy to choose for you.” Ollie let that threat dangle in the air as he hung up.
Killian shifted, and now that I had my emotions in check, I was able to look at him. I pasted a bright smile on my face.
“What’re you doing?” he asked, a hard edge to his voice that I didn’t understand.
“Doing?” I asked. My fingers curled into fists at my side. I just had to remind myself that he hadn’t promised me anything. My hurt feelings were on me.
“Why are you all the way over there?” It was like he didn’t remember me scrambling off his lap.
I shrugged, hoping it came off as nonchalant. “I didn’t want to get in the way of your business dealings.”
“Tink … ” His hands reached out so fast that before I had time to react I was in his lap again. If I wasn’t so upset, I might have laughed.
One of his hands fisted in the hair at the back of my neck and the other gripped my chin firmly.
I blinked.
A light fluttery sensation raced up my spine and made me lean into him, but then I remembered his conversation and felt rejected all over again. I pushed on his chest to keep a little distance between us.
“Speak,” he commanded.
A spark of fury flared to life in my belly giving my next words their fuel. “I’m not a dog, Killian. You can’t snap your fingers and tell me what to do.”
His grip didn’t ease and his narrowed gaze pinned me to the spot. “What’s changed?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit,” he snapped.
I felt stupid for feeling upset at his reaction to Ollie’s off-hand comments. They weren’t even all that damning, but while I acknowledged that truth I couldn’t stop the seeds of doubt from taking root in my brain.
“Why are you mad at me?” his tone gentled.
“I’m not mad. I’m super happy for you. Apparently, I’ve single-handedly saved your career by being your fake date.” I forced the grin back to my face and pointed to my now rounded cheeks. “See?”
God, I did suck at not telling the truth.
“Tink,” he growled. By the looks of his dark, thunderous expression he clearly was not buying anything I said.
I hated lying. I hated this doubt that crept in. And I hated that I let the anxiety squirrel around in my brain and poke at the tender promises we’d made less than one hour ago.
I just wanted to curl up in his arms and do what he’d said in his office at the club. To see where this went between us. But my inner self, that insecure bitch, had started to make me question everything.
The words burst out of me. “Did you even mean what you said earlier?”
His gaze softened. “Which part?”
“When you said you wanted to see where things could go between us.”
A deep groove appeared between his brows. “Why are you asking that? I thought I made it crystal clear.”
I had to take a second to gather my thoughts. I wasn’t used to a guy wanting to know why I felt the way I did. Maybe that’s why none of my previous relationships worked. Those guys were douchecanoes. Yet I’d just attributed the failure of those relationships to my wild attraction to Peter.
I was such an idiot sometimes.
“Tell me what’s wrong, Tris. I can’t make things better if you won’t talk to me.” He released his tight hold and let his hands drift to my hips.
“Fake dating is fine. Being used is another. The way you talked to Ollie was like I was a little checkbox on the list of things to do to help your career. It hurt my feelings,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Oh.”
When he didn’t elaborate, my skin buzzed with anger.
“Oh? That’s all you have to say?” My lips pressed shut. I knew I was overreacting and I couldn’t stop myself.
His brow furrowed in concentration. When he shook his head I realized he hadn’t even seen the conversation in the same light I did. I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. Either way I needed to communicate why it had irked me so much.
“Tink—”
I poked his chest once, and feeling a deep sense of satisfaction at his look of surprise I did it again. “I thought you were serious earlier. That you still felt something for me.”
“Tink—”
“I finally see us for what we could be?—”
“Let me?—”
I didn’t bother to let him get another word in. “And then you act all like a boost in sales and that the press is eating up our story means that the shit with the drug bust was losing its momentum is what’s important. Not that you’re happy we really are together.” My breath shuddered out as my anger lost steam, and I sunk into the seat. Max was surely getting a show. “I mean, after what happened earlier, I kind of thought we weren’t pretending anymore.” I hated the sadness that tinged each word.
Killian scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Tink, I had no idea that what I said made you feel like that. I’m sorry.”
I opened my mouth to ream him out again until his words registered. “You’re sorry?”
“Yeah, Trissabelle, I’m telling you I’m sorry. To me and to the world, we’re together. I should’ve realized how that might have sounded to you.”
I gave a jerky nod. Maybe I was overreacting. That being pushed aside by Peter all these years and not having a single boyfriend who wanted to stick around might be circling in my head a little too much, and maybe, just maybe I was taking that out on Killian.
“And as for what happened tonight.” He tugged me closer, his fingers brushing along my cheek. “I still want that. Don’t you?”
“I do.”
He stretched his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into him.
That tight ache in my sternum slowly eased as I burrowed my face against his chest, tired from the night and exhausted from my fluctuating emotions. The steady beat of his heart beneath my cheek soothed me.
“I’m a shit fake boyfriend. In fact, I’m probably a pretty shitty real boyfriend too.”
“Is that right?” My heartbeat which had settled into the same easy rhythm as his, sped up now, pounding hard like it wanted to escape its confines.
His shoulders moved beneath me in a shrug. “I’ve never been one, so yeah.”
My head whipped up, so fast his poor chin almost became a casualty. Luckily, he had great reflexes and leaned back before any damage could occur. “That can’t be true. You always had girls with you in high school, and even now.” I thought back to the woman on his yacht that he’d kissed and a frisson of jealousy slithered through me.
“I never did anything more than date them or fuck them.” His casual crass assessment made my heart ache for him. As grateful as I was that he’d never found love in our years apart, it also made me sad to know he’d never experienced it.
“Not one?” I still found it hard to believe.
“I never wanted to be tied down,” he admitted.
“Oh, right.” Was he trying to let me down easily? To tell me that this thing between us was just physical?
Killian Hook had been and still was a self-proclaimed bachelor.
Why would he change for me?
I wanted Killian to find someone to love. Someone that was always in his corner, that would cherish the man under the gruff exterior.
Even if it couldn’t be me.
But dammit, I wanted it to be me.
I was ten when my parents died, but I still had so many memories of them locked up in my heart. They were desperately in love. And I wanted that same devotion for myself—and Killian—whether we had it together or separately. After the shit we’d been through in our lives we deserved it.
And if I could show Killian parts of what a loving relationship could be, modeling us after my parents, maybe he’d decide he wanted it, too. I would just play it cool and go slow with him.
“Okay, then Mr. Rockstar. Knowing Ollie, he’s already sent you the email of people for us to talk to. Let’s open it up.”
He sighed and leaned his head back. “I’m making such a mess out of this.”
“A mess of what?” I glanced away not wanting him to see the hurt that likely resided there. I yelped when his fingers dug harder into my hip. “Ouch. Killian, what the hell?”
“Eyes on me, Tink.” The hair on my arms rose at his rough command. “I need you to hear me. I never wanted to be tied down before because they weren’t you.”
I sucked in a breath.
Holy shit.
I didn’t know how much I needed to hear him say that until he did.
“I have no idea how to be with someone, but with you I want to try. Understand?”
I nodded.
“Words, little fairy.” His sentence reminded me of the night we reconnected.
“Understood.” I looped my arms around his neck. “So does this make you my boyfriend?” I asked in a sing-song tone.
He rolled his eyes and pinched my ass.
We sat there staring at each other grinning.
And for once, everything felt right in my world.