Page 123 of Heartbreaker

I’m burning for her, trying to get a handle on this insatiable need to draw her close again, to tell her all the apologies I’ve been crafting over the last week, to make all the promises I owe her, to start showing her I know exactly what the fuck I nearly lost and that I will never—fuckingnever—take her for granted again.

But with every moment that passes, the doubt is creeping in.

And it sure as shit doesn’t help that she seems to be doing her level best to make this show as long as fucking possible.

The crowd roars, and I hear her call, “Goodnight, Nashville!” before she turns and walks off the stage.

The feed cuts, and I jump up from the couch, nervous energy making my movements jerky. I pace as I wait, fully aware of the panic eating at my insides. Is she going to be pissed that I stormed in and took over her show—even if it was just for one song? Is she going to forgive me?

I close my eyes, practice the breathing that Catherine helped me with last night.

Jade accepted the ring.

She didn’t call security to haul my ass off stage.

She stayed close as we played our song, our hands working together on the guitar in perfect harmony.

For those three minutes and twenty-two seconds, the crowd faded away. It became Jade and me up in the mountains, the snow falling, the fire roaring, the song flowing out of us like the most effortless sort of breathing.

And then I kissed her, whispered that I love her, and let her have the rest of her moment.

It was perfect, exactly as I imagined it would be…

But what if it’s not enough?

I wait in the now silent green room for what feels like ages before the door slowly opens and one of Dash’s security guard pokes his head in, eyes sweeping suspiciously over the space. They linger on me, his expression inscrutable, and he must determine that I’m not a threat because he moves forward, pushing the door open with him, stepping to the side, allowing…

My heart to walk through the door.

Jade’s face glistens with sweat and she has a towel hanging around her shoulders.

Her color is high, her hair a mess, that outfit beyond fucking sexy.

And she’s so beautiful that I can’t breathe.

But it’s her eyes that plunge a knife in my belly, tearing my flesh.

Fuck.

It wasn’t enough.

I move to her, reach for her hands, hating when she skitters back a step. “Shortcake,” I murmur. “I?—”

She turns to the security guard. “Trent,” she says softly. “Will you give me some privacy?”

He nods at her, but gives me a long, lingering glare that silently threatens to dismember me if I so much as harm a hair on her head. He can’t know that I wouldn’t hurt her that way, can’t know that the wounds I’ve already inflicted are far more damaging.

Or maybe he does.

Because his blue eyes turn to ice and he tells Jade, “I’ll be right outside if you needanything.”

Anything meaning giving me concrete shoes and taking me for a swim in a deep lake.

Or skydiving without a parachute.

Or—

Right.

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