Page 43 of Wicked Rockstar

This was a terrible idea. I needed to leave before she noticed me. The second I shifted, Tris turned in my direction as if she’d felt my presence.

Her eyes widened as she spotted me, a flash of surprise quickly replaced by wariness. She said a hurried goodbye to her companion and approached me, her steps measured and deliberate.

“Killian?” Her voice carried a note of disbelief.

I fought the urge to reach out and touch her. To push the piece of blonde hair that had fallen out of her bun behind her ear. To avoid temptation, I shoved my hands into my pockets. Even the familiar scent of her lavender perfume threatened to overwhelm my senses and teased me to give up my control.

“Tink.” I gave her a slight nod.

Her eyes darted around nervously, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her green cardigan. “What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. I wondered if she was afraid Peter would see us together.

I swallowed hard, suddenly unsure of what to say. “I needed to apologize about this weekend,” I managed, my throat tight. Knowing how differently the night could’ve gone, if she’d been found by the wrong people when they were loading or unloading the drugs from my yacht made my chest hurt.

It destroyed me to think something I did could have hurt her.

“It’s fine—” she stopped suddenly. Her feet, encased in green ballet flats, began a persistent tempo and tears sprang to her eyes. “You know what? It’s not fine. What iswrongwith you?”

“That list is probably pretty long,” I smirked, trying to lighten the mood.

She whacked my arm with the back of her hand and winced. “It’s not a joke, Killian. They’ll hurt you if they find out what you’re doing. They could…damn it.”

Well, shit.

She swallowed hard. Her eyes were glassy with unshed tears. Tears she was trying really hard to hold back.

Tears I’d caused.

“Tink.” I pleaded. I hated seeing her upset over something I’d caused. “Come here.” I opened my arms to her, an invitation for comfort we both so desperately needed, holding my breath and half-expecting her to turn away.

The moment stretched between us, filled with unspoken history and complicated emotions. Her rejection hurt. In the past, she’d have jumped into my arms. I was mad at myself that I even wanted to wrap my arms around her in the first place.

But our lives were different now. We’d changed, and so had everything else.

After what seemed like an eternity, Tris stepped into my embrace. Her body was tense at first. Her eyes searched mine; for what I didn’t know. However, she must have found it because she let out a deep breath, relaxed into me, and rested her cheek against my shoulder. Her hands found my waist. Like she was too afraid to give me a full on hug. “I don’t want you to die,” she whispered, her voice shaking with the force of her emotion.

“I know.” I closed my eyes, savoring the feel of her in my arms, even as guilt gnawed at me for putting her in danger.

She practically vibrated with uncontained energy.

“Will you get in the car so we can talk?” I gently tugged on her sweater to coax her into the backseat.

She nodded. Good. What we had to say was better kept private.

In the back of the car, the air was thick with tension. I studied her while I gathered my words, unsure if I should let her speak first. She’d opened her mouth and closed it several times in less than a minute.

Her nerves on display were ratcheting up my sense of anxiety and I started tapping the leather seat again. “I hate that you got mixed up in all that shit.” I paused and said the words that hardly ever left my lips. “I’m sorry.”

She nodded. “I know you are. I just … Killian, why would you do something so stupid? So dangerous?”

Confessing to her that I loved the adrenaline and the danger wouldn’t make her feel any better about it. I figured she at least deserved most of the truth, though. “Judd came to me a year ago. While our state isn’t a huge hub of activity, New York is nearby, and because we’re so under the radar, it’s easy to get product in and out.”

Tris waited and took my hand between hers. She’d always been good at waiting out Peter and me until we eventually told her the whole truth.

Electricity sparked so fast and hard between us that I questioned whether she felt it, too. The only hint I had was the tightening of her hand within mine. Aware of every point of contact between us, I focused on her creamy, pale skin against my darker tan—a visual reminder of our differences—and our undeniable connection. Her only tattoo was on the inside of her wrist, as opposed to the entire sleeve of tattoos I had on each arm.

“I was at loose ends and looking for something to fill a void.” I’d been lost. Not sure what was next in my life. My music careercontinued to do well, and I couldn’t help but think that was all I had. That I was missing something.

“Does it have anything to do with your dad?” Her voice trembled as though she hated even mentioning him.

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