Page 100 of How to Love a Rockstar

She blows out a breath. “Okay. Fine. One message a day. But no more. No standing behind your apartment door waiting for me to leave and then entering the hallway to ‘bump’ into me.”

I scowl. “How did you know what I planned to do?”

She rolls her eyes. “What do you think I did before we got together?”

“Virginia Hale, were you stalking me?”

“You enjoyed it.”

I smile. “I did.”

The light-heartedness bleeds out of her eyes. Shit. I’m not going to change her mind. Not right this minute at least. And I’m not pushing her. She needs to come to her own decision in her own time.

But I hate this. I hate this more than anything else I’ve experienced up until now and Gibson has projectile vomited on me during a concert while I was playing my favorite guitar. It’s impossible to get the smell of puke out of the soundhole.

“Okay.” I lift Ginny so I can stand. “Do you want me to get Indigo over here for tonight? Otherwise, I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

She opens her mouth to protest but I hold up a hand to stop her. “I’ll agree to give you space but I’m not leaving you alone tonight after what happened.”

“I’ll message Indigo.”

Those words stab into my heart. She doesn’t want me near. Fuck. I screwed this all up.

“I’ll wait in the living room for her.”

At her nod, I stalk to the door. I make quick work of moving the dresser back to its place before leaving the room. I don’t look back. I can’t. Seeing Ginny sitting in her bed looking lost and alone will break my heart.

I rub a hand over my chest. Who am I kidding? My heart is already breaking.

Chapter 31

Violence – might make you feel good but isn’t the answer

Dylan

Idon’t bother knocking at the house Fender is sharing with Gibson and Jett. I barge inside and the door hits the wall with a bang. Gibson and Jett glance over from where they’re sitting in the living room playing a videogame.

I don’t bother to greet them. “Where is he? Where’s Fender?”

“Is Virginia okay?” Jett asks. “We heard what happened.”

“And where were you?”

“We went to her apartment but she wouldn’t answer the door and she wasn’t answering her phone, so we called Peace.”

“You called a cop?”

“Hell, yeah. It’s Virginia.”

“You’ve changed your tune.”

Jett stands and walks toward me with his palms up. “How many times do you want me to apologize for scaring her? I’m fucking sorry, okay? She’s forgiven me. Why can’t you?”

Because I can’t get the image of her cowering underneath her desk trembling with fright out of my mind. And now I have to add the image of her hiding in her closet alone and afraid, thinking I don’t care about her.

I blow out a breath. “I didn’t come here to confront you. Where’s Fender?”

“Right here,” he grumbles from behind me.

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