Page 74 of Aria

“… and his size… Oh, boy… Let’s just say he was touching parts of me only the Lord Jesus knows about…”

My head popped up, catching only bits of Julia’s descriptive narrative. I found myself feeling both nauseated and oddly intrigued. Reaching for my shot glass, I let the rest of the tequila fall into my mouth, coating my throat with a smoky oak aftertaste.

Nauseated won out.

“And on that note,” I muttered as I snatched my purse. “I’m going to head out.”

Lisa took a sip of her dry martini, her fingers lingering on the stem of the glass. “I’m worried about you, Chelsie,” she admitted. “Can the guys get a security detail on you?”

The thought had crossed my mind. Noah had even mentioned it.

But then I thought about how I’d feel with a muscle-man following me around, day in and day out. I would feel violated.

As violated as I would feel if Ian were to stick a knife in my gut?

“I’ll think about it.” I placed a wad of cash on the table, rising from the chair. “I had fun. Drive safe.”

“Areyouokay to drive?” Lisa wondered.

“I took an Uber.”

I hadn’t meant to leave in such a hurry. I hadn’t meant to be rude or abrupt, either. But I didn’t want to talk about Ian, or about how my life was in imminent danger, or about Julia’s sexcapades with Noah. I didn’t want to talk at all. I was sick of talking and apologizing and justifying everything I did—ordidn’tdo.

I was just… tired.

So tired, in fact, that when I traipsed through the complex’s parking garage and headed toward the elevator, I almost missed the figure looming behind a row of cars. He was far enough away that I couldn’t make out his face, but I knew. He was wearing a dark hoodie, and his hands were stuffed into his pockets.

He was staring at me.

I could only describe the feeling as pure, undiluted fear. Not the kind of fear that made you run in the opposite direction, though—no, this was the kind that froze your feet to the earth. The kind that shut you down and made your mouth go dry. The kind that made you wonder if your heart was beating too fast, or not beating at all.

My eyes squeezed shut and I counted to three. I concentrated on my breathing. If I was breathing, I knew my heart must still be beating.

And when my eyes pinged back open, the figure had vanished.

Was I paranoid and delusional? Was this a prank? Had anyone been standing there at all?

My knees wobbled as I tried to regain the feeling in my legs and surveyed the parking garage with panic. I saw no one. I heard nothing.

When I was confident I wouldn’t fall on my face, I took a hesitant step toward the elevator. As the doors closed me in, I envisioned Ian’s hands wrenching the doors wide open and tackling me to the ground.

Stop it, brain. Please, stop.

I approached our unit and pulled out my keys with shaking hands. It took me four tries to fit the key into the keyhole. When I was successfully inside, I slammed the door and turned my back against the cold frame. I slid down the length of it, my bottom hitting the ground hard, then I pulled my knees to my chest and buried my face into my jeans. A wretched sob escaped my lips. The sound was so guttural, I wondered if it had even come from my own mouth.

This was my life now. I was doomed to live in a shroud of panic, always looking over my shoulder.

Ian had gotten one thing right—

He would always be with me.

CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE

NOAH

If I wasn’t already a household name, I sure as hell would be now.

The media had gotten ahold of some damning photos of my encounter with Chelsie’s felon of an ex-boyfriend. Sean was livid, my bandmates were mopey, and Chelsie put the blame entirely on her own shoulders.

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