Page 88 of Wicked Rockstar

KILLIAN

I’ll hold you to that.

I hurried into the kitchen and joined them at the table. The silence permeated the air. Wendy glared at Peter and he stared at his phone. “Did something happen?” I asked. I had a distinct feeling that this wasn’t only about me and my bouquet.

No response. From either of them.

“So … the concert,” I finally tossed in, hoping one of them would pick up the thread of conversation.

Peter not talking was weird. And so were the looks he was giving me. Ones that were filled with a mix of hurt and anger.

Well, he could suck it. For the first time the sun didn’t rise and set on Peter in my life.

It was weird and exciting all at once.

“Listen … Somebody besides me needs to talk or I’m going home.”

Peter met my gaze with wide eyes. Apparently, we were going through all the emotions right now. And as much as I hated the upheaval in our relationship, I realized maybe it was time for a change.

I’d give it one more try. “How many bands have agreed to play?” I pulled out my notebook to jot down the next steps for the event. I wanted to create hype on Peter’s various platforms about who was going to be at the concert. As he reminded us earlier, we were already at a deficit timewise.

Wendy nodded. “I apologize. I let my emotions come before the work we need to do.” She looked pointedly at Peter who had now adopted his ever handy disinterested look. One he’d perfected when he didn’t want to discuss something.

So much for his cooperation.Damn it.

“Thankfully Jareth is completely on board with this. Or otherwise half of these bands never would have agreed to shuffle their schedules around to accommodate us,” Wendy revealed

At Jareth’s name Peter, didn’t hide his frown. “We don’t need his help with this.”

“Peter … I get that you’re not his biggest fan, but having him work with us on the charity event will only help,” I said, trying to coax him into a better mindset about this. We needed Jareth’s connections to pull this off.

“Not his biggest fan? He threatened my career, Tris. He’s an asshole.” Peter sprang to his feet so fast his chair rocked aggressively before settling back on four legs. After his off behavior about my gift and date, it was only a matter of time before he blew up about Jareth, too. Everything got under his skin lately.

If I couldn’t rein him in there’d be no more work done today. “Peter, come on. Let’s just forget?—”

Wendy stood. “No. Stop coddling him.” She pointed at Peter. “Sit your ass down. Now. I’m here because you clearly can’t handle yourself or your career. If you want to keep even a semblance of what you have with The Lost Boys, you’ll sit down, shut up, and participate. You’ve been a complete and utter child this morning.”

My eyes grew wide as I stared at Wendy. I’d never spoken like that to Peter.

Well, not since we were younger.

Peter’s palms lay heavy on the table as the two of them locked anger-filled gazes. Amidst the anger and frustration, heat glinted in the way their pupils dilated and their breaths grew ragged.

Part of me wanted to grab popcorn and sit back while I watched this exchange. I was utterly fascinated that someone dared to call Peter on his shit. I secretly cheered on Wendy as the winner.

And I realized I really should have been doing more of this all along.

Today was the day for revelations it seemed.

Surprisingly enough, I wasn’t even mad at her for calling me out like that. Now that my ‘Peter is my future love’ rose-colored glasses had slipped, I realized I had probably given Peter far more leeway than I should have. Especially over the past few months as his behavior grew worse.

Wendy wasn’t done. “That was not a request, Peter. Your options are down to two. Work with me, or end your career. If Jareth lets go of your contract, he can and will make sure no one else picks you up.” She started gathering her papers on the table.

Holy shit! Was she about to quit?

I glanced at Peter. What would he do?

“I guess I should sit my fucking ass down then.” His jaw tightened. A small muscle pulsed while a storm of emotions flickered in his gaze—anger, frustration, regret, and then—shockingly—a grudging acceptance. He dropped back to his seat and waved a condescending carry-on motion with his hand at Wendy.

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