Page 12 of Wicked Rockstar

“I did.” He reached into his suit jacket pocket and pulled out a small velvet box.

It was too small to be a necklace or bracelet. My heart jackhammered in my chest. Logically, I knew it would not be an engagement ring or any kind of ring, but my heart fluttered at the thought, even as unlikely as it was.

Peter handed it to me, an eager expression on his face. “The minute I saw it, I knew I had to get it for you.”

With shaking hands, I gently took it from him. My breath caught in my throat as I pried open the lid.

“It’s so you, isn’t it?”

I struggled to push words past my tightened lips. “It’s… ” I tried again. “It’s a bird pin.”

“A brooch,” he corrected me.

My limbs froze to the seat, eyes locked on the garish colors, the sharp, pointy beak, and the widespread wings that made it seem like it was about to take flight.

Peter continued. “I thought it was perfect—with me calling you ‘Songbird’ and your last name being Byrd.”

“Peter,” I whispered.

“You love it.” His smile stretched across his face. “I knew you would.”

“I … oh … Thank you.” I darted a quick glance at him. He looked so pleased.

My chest grew tight and pain jabbed at my throat as I attempted to swallow. Guilt held me immobile in its grasp. He’d tried so hard to be thoughtful and I hated his gift, but I could never let him know that.

“Tris?”

I fully lifted my gaze to him and forced a smile to my face. “I love it.”

“You’re my girl, Tris. Anything for you.”

Carefully, I tugged the top of the box back down and placed the brooch into my purse.

This was my first chance in a long time to get Peter to see me as more than his old childhood friend and assistant. Today, I hoped he’d start seeing me as a woman. One that had dreamed of a happily-ever-after with him for as long as we’d known each other.

And really, if we were going to spend our lives together, then this was just a blip of time. Something we’d laugh about later.

Chapter Four

KILLIAN

Motherfucker.

I sipped my glass of scotch, the smoky liquid burning a path down my throat. I’d moved from the bar to a smaller table across the room. The hushed conversations provided a soothing backdrop to the turmoil of my mind.

I could see Tris and Peter from my secluded section, but they couldn’t see me. I’d felt her eyes on me from the moment they sat. Her gaze burned a hole into my back, stripping away another piece of the armor I’d placed around my heart when it came to Trissabelle Byrd—the girl I once loved.

The soft, warm lighting of the restaurant created a golden glow on Tris’s blonde hair, reminding me of the countless summer afternoons spent together. I couldn’t help but notice how her excitement vibrated through her body. That dick had just handed her a piece of jewelry, the unmistakably marked box from an expensive store in downtown Providence.

Tink was so stunned by the piece that she sat there, barely breathing.

Fuck.

I’d tried not to follow Peter or Trissa over the years. It hurt too much. I hadn’t heard they were together, but after Peter’s display of possession and giving her this gift, I wondered if I had missed the signs because I hadn’t wanted to believe them.

From my place in the shadows, I’d seen that spark, that fire that lit her from the inside, dim the longer she was in Peter’s presence as his assistant.

But maybe I’d been wrong all this time.

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