Page 135 of Wicked Rockstar

I hated this.

“None of this is fair. It all sucks.” He ran a hand through his hair, wincing as he touched a bruise at his temple. “We finally get a chance to be together, Tink. I don’t want to lose you.”

“How can I get you to understand you’re not losing me?” I didn’t know how to fight that wild, rejected look in his eyes.Growing up together, I understood the part of him that always felt rejected, like he wasn’t good enough. And I hated how when he’d walked away, I’d inadvertently reinforced that fear for him by blindly siding with Peter, but everything was different now.

His next question came so quietly I almost missed it. “I need to know. If it came down to it—really came down to it; make or break—would you choose to go with me?”

My heart stopped. Of all the questions he could have asked, this was the one I feared most. Because I didn’t know the answer. I loved him more than I could ever have imagined I’d love anyone. But my career mattered to me. And so did Peter. As a friend and as an employer. How could I answer a question like that and stay true to myself?

“Killian, please. Don’t do this. Not now.” Not when our emotions were high. Not when we were confused and likely not making rational choices.

“Just answer the question.” His eyes searched mine, desperate for reassurances I didn’t know how to give.

“I’m with you,” I said, and reached for his hand, needing him to understand. “I love you. Isn’t that enough?”

But I could see it in his face that it wasn’t. I’d dodged the question and we both knew it. I watched something shut down in his eyes, a door closing that I wasn’t sure I could reopen.

“I should go and tell the band and head home to pack if Jareth decides to follow through with his threat,” he said, pulling away.

He let go of my hand.

“Killian—”

“It’s fine. You’re right. It’s just two weeks. We’ll figure it out.”

But his tone, devoid of emotion, said otherwise. I knew that look—I had seen it the day he walked away ten years ago. I didn’t recognize it for what it was then, but I knew now. “Don’t do this. Don’t shut down on me.”

“I’m not.” The lie hung in the air between us. “I just … I need to find time to process this. And you should go find Peter. Make sure he’s not getting into any more trouble.”

My shoulders sagged under the weight of my responsibility—to Peter, to my job, and now to Killian’s reopened wounds. “I’ll call you tonight. We can talk more then.”

He nodded, his face carefully blank.

I reached up and gently touched his bruised cheek. “This isn’t goodbye, Killian. This isn’t me choosing anyone over you. I need you to believe that.”

But I could see he didn’t. He’d already put a wall up between us.

As I walked out of the conference room to meet Peter and Wendy, each step felt like I was tearing something precious apart. I wasn’t choosing Peter over Killian—not romantically, not in my heart. But I could see how my actions might tell another story. And even though it infuriated me, I couldn’t blame Killian for seeing it that way.

In the hallway, I leaned against the wall, suddenly exhausted. How had everything spiraled out of control? The last three days with Killian had been everything I’d ever wanted. Today, I was watching him prepare to fly across the country, convinced I’d chosen someone else.

I hadn’t answered his question. I couldn’t. Because the truth was, I didn’t want to choose. I shouldn’t have to.

I wanted my career, my independence. I wanted Killian’s love. I wanted Peter’s friendship.

I straightened my shoulders and continued down the corridor. I had a mini-tour to prepare for. A volatile artist to manage. And two careers to save.

And I needed to figure out how to get through to the man I loved, even as impossible as it seemed right now. My heartshattered with each step I took with the fear I’d made the wrong choice.

That I couldn’t repair the damage of letting the man I loved believe that, once again, he wasn’t enough.

Chapter Thirty-Four

KILLIAN

It had been an hour since I left Tris.

I slumped on a stool at my home bar and gulped another sip of the whiskey in my glass.

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