Page 72 of Wicked Rockstar

“Killian, wait,” she called out.

I froze at the door, my hand on the knob, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at her. If I did, I might not be able to leave.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked, her voice small and uncertain. “Aren’t we just going to end up hurting each other again? Maybe this isn’t such a great idea.”

I closed my eyes, fighting against the urge to turn around, to go back to her, to tell her we’d figure it out. Instead, I tightened my grip on the doorknob.

“Probably,” I said, hating the honesty in my voice. “But at least this time, we’re going into it with our eyes wide open.” And maybe, just maybe, I could work her out of my system.

I pulled the door open and walked out before I could change my mind.

“Lock your door.”

What the fuck was I doing?

Chapter Nineteen

TRISSA

Iwas distracted.

The memory of last night played on repeat in my head and was the only thing I could think about during the early morning recording session at VS Music Production.

The heat of Killian’s body pressed to mine, his lips so close they almost touched, the crazed possessive look that crossed his face. I’d never felt more annoyed and turned on at the same time.

“Tris.” Peter’s voice snapped in my ear.

My head jerked up, heat flaring in my cheeks.Shit.“Uh … Yeah?”

His irritation grated on me. “Have you heard anything I just said?”

There was no way I’d tell him what I’d really been thinking about. How Killian’s protective side stirred some deep-seated desire to be taken care of that I didn’t know existed. How when he barged into my apartment, the energy between us positively surged. How I had no idea if it meant anything to him or if he was used to feeling like this with other women.

And how shocking it was to me to realize that I craved his possessiveness.

“I was distracted. I’ll pay better attention,” I responded. My job today was to listen to their new songs and make suggestions on how to tweak them. It was nice that I could still put my degree to use every now and again.

“See that you do. We need to get this right.”

“Cut me some friggin’ slack, Peter.” The second the words left my mouth, I wanted to hide under the desk. Even though I’d shocked myself, and Peter, based on the way his eyes widened slightly before narrowing on me. I needed to stick to my guns.

“Tris.” The way he said my name with such disbelief punched me with reality. I’d always just acquiesced to Peter, apologized and moved on, and gave in to his demands. It hadn’t mattered what was going on with me, as long as Peter was happy.

And I’d never snapped at him like that.

“Peter,” I challenged.

He stared at me. Completely and utterly silent, his brow furrowed.

I fought the urge to squirm beneath his surprised yet calculating stare. Because even though he was the good-time guy, the one who charmed you with a smile, he was smart. It was how he schmoozed his way through life. Peter could take one look at someone and determine how to cater to their needs or be who they thought they wanted him to be. It was how he got what he wanted.

And up until now, I’d let that dictate whoIwas. I’d been a pawn in his game, all this time. Another chess piece to manipulate on the board of his life.

No longer. I wasn’t sure where that left me, but I needed to find out.

The band, God love ‘em, seemed just as shocked as Peter as they stared at us, not bothering to hide their bewildered and amused expressions.

Geez, I reallyhadbeen a doormat all this time.

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