Page 60 of Her Dark Angel

I stand from the bench and grab my underwear off the floor, slipping the wet material up my thighs. “Whatever you’re dealing with… there are other ways to cope with it. Trust me, drugs and alcohol are not the answer. Your life is way too valuable to ruin it with that shit.”

Nash holds my gaze intently from across the shower, his jaw ticking as he considers my words. “And how would you know that, little devil? My life being valuable, I mean.”

I swallow hard, my throat dry. Suddenly, I feel vulnerable standing in front of Nash half-naked, the high of my recent orgasm wearing off. But I don't want him to know that. Not when he’s willingly throwing me some goddamn breadcrumbs about his life.

“You might not see it, Nash, but you’re a talented man with a gift for performing. You were born to do this, to be out on stage performing for your fans and writing music that could one day change someone's life. I don’t know why you find it so hard to believe that you’re worthy of this life, so just… appreciate it a little more, yeah?”

A cold shiver races down my spine now that the hot water has been turned off and I’m in nothing but a thin lingerie set.

Nash must notice the goosebumps covering my skin because he points to the bathroom door. “I’ll grab you something to wear home.”

I follow him out of the shower and into the bedroom, our previous conversation left in the air as I watch Nash walk into his closet. My drenched clothes are forgotten about on the floor in the shower, but I don’t mind.

While I wait in the middle of the room, I wrap my arm around my waist and use the other to smooth out my drenched hair. Moments later, Nash returns with a black T-shirt with an image of Poison’s band logo on the front and a bunch of tour dates on the back. I hold the shirt up to my chest and gaze down at where the material lands just above my knees.

“You can keep it,” Nash says as I slip the shirt over my head. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his wet sweatpants, his lips turned up in a half smile. “It looks better on you anyway.”

I chew my bottom lip and wrap my arms around my waist. Even though this is a clean shirt, Nash’s woodsy scent is soaked into the material, bringing with it a comfort I didn’t know I needed.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” I say softly, truly meaning it. “But… this can never happen again, okay? It’s not part of the deal. You said it yourself, remember? No falling in love.”

Nash’s mismatched eyes blink rapidly behind the wet curls clinging to his forehead, and it’s as if a switch has been flipped inside of him because the mask I’m used to seeing him wear has returned. Now, he’s the same cool, calm, and collected Nash Beck I met four weeks ago. Gone is the Nash who was starting to open up to me.

I was beginning to make some progress with him only for all that hard work to slip between my fingers, leaving me back at square one.

“Yeah, no, you’re right. Don’t go falling in love with me, little devil. I would hate to have to break your heart.”

Inhaling a deep breath, I nod and walk past him to the bedroom door. There are many witty remarks I could make, but I choose to bite my tongue and leave it be. This entire day has been one big head fuck, so I don’t need to add more fuel to the fire. “I’ll see you next week for the concert.”

I thought I heard Nash attempt to say something, but the words died on his tongue.

As I race out of Nash’s house and get into my car, listening as raindrops slam against the windscreen, I still feel the ghost of his fingers caressing my skin and the feel of his soft lips against mine.

Throwing my head back against the seat, I close my eyes and bite my lip. Goddamn… what have I just gotten myself into?

21

KINSLEY

1977

12 years old.

Aloud snort unexpectedly bursts from my nose, making my eyes widen with surprise. My laughter dies down as embarrassment floods my chest. Despite the sudden outburst, it doesn’t deter Travis from continuing to tell funny jokes in an attempt to make me laugh. He’s always trying to make me laugh, which is something I appreciate. When you’re working long hours on set and have to put on a serious face when the cameras are rolling, it feels nice to switch off and laugh for the short amount of time we get to take a break.

I clutch my sore stomach as another burst of laughter escapes my lips. “Trav, stop it. My stomach hurts.”

Travis plops down on the couch beside me, laughter bubbling from his throat. He turns to me at the same time he pushes his blonde curls away from his forehead. “Sorry, Kin, but you’re just so easy to make laugh. You even snort cute like a little pig.”

My cheeks grow warm at his words, so I turn my head away so he doesn’t see how pink my cheeks are. The last thing I want is for Travis to know I have a crush on him. We’ve been friends for the last two years since we worked on Schoolyard Quest.

Since then, we have written each other letters and meet up whenever I’m in Los Angeles for work. I like it. I like writing to him because he’s funny and carefree. He makes me smile and laugh until my cheeks hurt. And now we’re lucky enough to be working on another television show together—The Adventures of Ours.

But he can never know that I like like him. It would ruin everything between us. Besides, he’s my best friend and I’m more than happy with that.

“I only snort like that because you’re so funny,” I defend. I shift my body on the dark brown couch to face him and bring my knees to my chest. He does the same. “I’m not ready for this show to end. I know we’ve only been filming for three weeks and have plenty more to go, the thought of it ending saddens me.”

Travis sighs softly. He casts his gaze down to the friendship bracelet I gave him two years ago. The tips of his fingers skim over the beads, the movement slow. “Me too. I don’t want to go back to writing letters to each other because we live in different states.”

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