Page 69 of Heart Break Her

“I don’t care.”

“What the fuck, El?” I look up at her. “Can’t you just drop it?”

She shakes her head and steps closer.

“Just answer one thing. Is this really about Cassie? Or are you just trying to get over Myth?” She levels me with her gaze.

“Get over him? My friend died; it wasn’t a breakup.”

“No one said that.” Eloise lets out an annoyed sigh.

“Then what are you saying?”

“You and Myth were close. And I know you took it hard after what happened.”

Because it’s my fucking fault.

But I keep that to myself and let it eat away at what’s left inside of me.

“Are you sure you’re not just reaching out to the closest thing to him in an attempt to bury your grief?” Eloise props herself against the arm of the chair across from me.

“Who says I’m still grieving? It’s been a year.” I take another hit. “I’m over it.”

She doesn’t bother acknowledging that comment, and I don’t blame her. I haven’t exactly been subtle with my meltdown. Making my way through booze, then drugs, then women. It’s been a roller coaster, and unfortunately, the band has been along for the ride.

“You’ve got a habit of losing yourself in things to feel better.” Eloise looks me up and down. “I’m just making sure that’s not what Cassie is.”

“She’s not,” I snap.

The confession comes easily, and I realize it’s because it’s the truth. Myth was my best friend. The person I leaned on during the worst times. And losing him was harder to process than the fact that my own father walked away from me. But Cassie isn’t just some sort of half-ass replacement to make me feel better.

She might be Myth’s sister, but to me… I can’t finish the thought because it’s nothing but trouble.

“Okay, just checking.” Eloise doesn’t sound the least bit convinced. “You know I love you.”

“Leave the sappy bonding for the bus ride, sis. We’ve got a show to play. Hearts waiting to be broken,” I say. “But real quick, while we’re on the topic of people hiding their true feelings, how are you and Adrian getting along lately?”

That question earns me a glare, which I expected. But I don’t care because it’s payback for her grilling me about Cassie.

Eloise might think I don’t notice how their eyes constantly follow each other when they’re in the same room. Or the fact that, even if I know Adrian gets random groupie ass, Eloise hasn’t openly dated since he started managing the band. But I’m not stupid.

“Nice try. We’re friends,” Eloise says, perfecting her exterior wall and hardening her expression.

She straightens up and turns to the door, but as she reaches to open it, Cassie walks through and almost hits Eloise square in the face.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” Cassie says, bringing her hands to cover her mouth. “Are you okay?

“Just missed me.” Eloise smiles. “Don’t worry about it.”

It’s a good thing I’m sitting because the sight of Cassie makes my brain feel like I’m tripping on something a lot harder than Mary Jane. Cassie is wearing a tight, white tank top with the tiniest spaghetti straps that are almost not there, and it hugs every curve of her perfect tits. She’s paired it with cut-off jean shorts that hit so high on the thighs, they might as well be underwear, showing off every inch of her tanned legs. But it’s not just her body that pulls my attention. Her blonde hair is down in loose waves over her shoulders, and the sweet, pink tips have been replaced by blood red, with the faintest hint of purple at the very bottom.

She looks like a corrupt version of herself, and it gives me a half chub just looking at her.

“Oh, I thought…” Cassie trails off, her eyes darting around the greenroom. “I was looking for Adrian. He wanted some feedback on the paint setup.”

“He’s backstage,” Eloise says. Of course she knows where he is without even thinking about it.

Cassie starts to turn to leave, but I stand up and stop her, ignoring the fact that each step tilts me further off my axis. “You changed your hair.”

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