Page 110 of Love Me Steadfast
Emmie drags him from the room and we hurry to the elevator.
The penthouse suite is all white marble and high ceilings, and big glass windows overlooking the lake. Music blares from speakers and there’s at least a hundred people mingling, talking, laughing, almost everyone with a drink in their hand.
“Ohmygawd,” Emmie says, her eyes wide. “It’s bigger than my whole house!”
I laugh. “Come on, let’s get a drink.”
I’ve never been into partying, but tonight, I accept one of the hard seltzers from the bar set up in the entryway. Our hotel room is just two floors down. Why not live a little? Especially when it’s clear everyone is partying. I even catch whiffs of pot smoke, and an older guy with a head of salt and pepper hair offers Em and me pills like it’s no big deal.
I spot Nic with his band mates and their half dozen girls all dressed in high heels and tiny little dresses in the living room, thewhole lot of them hanging on his every word. I watched his mainstage set from the wings with Mo, Dad, Emmie, Crosby, and Crosby’s parents. Nic’s become a master of not just performing, but wooing the crowd. When he sang “Candle,” girls in the front were screaming his words along with him, tears tracking down their cheeks. The whole experience was pretty surreal.
Several music execs Dad calls “suits” mingle among the musicians and the VIP fans. A few of them seek me out to talk about Boxcar Doves. I wish Morgan was here to drink up their praise. By the time the party’s going full tilt, I have an offer to play two gigs in Seattle this fall, and another from a sound guy who wants to help us record.
When I queue up at the bar, Nic steps in close. “Where’s Mo?”
I’m just buzzed enough from the seltzer to feel sassy. And I hate him trying to hijack Mo’s nickname like that. “Aw, did she leave without saying goodbye?” I pat his shoulder and make a pouty face. “You’ll have to catch her next time.”
He might be a rising star, but he still puts his pants on one leg at a time like the rest of us. Emmie still thinks he’s hot, but his cultivated bad boy image does nothing for me. Even if I wasn’t insanely in love with my very own golden retriever football stud. Yes, William and I are going to be apart while we’re pursuing our goals, but Eugene is only a six hour drive from Seattle. We’re going to see each other whenever we can, plus we’ll have holidays together. It won’t be easy, but we’re not going to let anything break us apart.
With a chuckle, Nic shrugs my hand from his shoulder, his gaze on the verge of calculating. “You haven’t said yes to my offer yet. How come?”
“Because Morgan will be finishing her senior year of high school, and Crosby and I will be at Cornish.” That’s the easy answer to his hints about wanting us to tour with him this winter.
He shakes his head in disgust. “You’re making a mistake. An offer like this is once in a lifetime. And you’re gonna throw it away for a meaningless degree you can hang on your wall someday?”
Um, rude. “My goals are different. Doesn’t make them any less meaningful.”
He snorts. “What about Beaker there?” He nods at Crosby, who’s talking with Steve Pax and his wife Willa outside on the patio. “I’ll bet he’d like a taste at fame.”
I rub my lips together, trying to control my irritation. Beaker is the jab Nic uses on Crosby after the Muppet’s cutest lab assistant. I’ve told Nic I don’t like it. “Crosby wants to study music and pursue a career as a conservatory musician.”
Nic rolls his eyes. “Your fucking loss, darlin’.” He saunters off, swallowed by his groupies.
I’m irked about him calling medarlin’but I put it aside so I can make sure Emmie and Crosby have a good time. We dance a little, nibble on the gourmet goodies, and hang out with Ari and her Tenderhook bandmates. I’m deep in conversation with Willa when Emmie tells me she’s heading down to the room. Ari and her tribe plus Crosby are all heading down too, so they’ll have safety in numbers. The party’s still going strong but I’m starting to fade, too, and tell her I’ll be down soon.
I’m on my way to the bathroom because both Ari and Emmie told me it’s a must before I leave when I catch Nic’s gaze tracking me. I turn away. Good riddance. I don’t know what Boxcar’s future holds, but it won’t be tied to Nic Salazar’s. It doesn’t make sense that I should feel such a heavy dose of relief. Maybe the hint of cruelty in his tone tonight. Or his determination to make me feel like shit for pursuing goals that don’t align with his. Or that I don’t like him in contact with Morgan, who’s still plenty fragile.
The bathroom is down a mood-lit hallway. It’s still just as loud though. Probably because there are still so many people here. When I open the first door, I only get a glimpse before I slam it shut, but I’m pretty sure it was a couple having sex, though in the darkness, I only saw the guy’s bare butt. I spin away to the other door. Thankfully it’s the correct one, and unoccupied.
With a sigh, I lock the door behind me and take in the opulentfixtures, giant jacuzzi tub with the big window overlooking the lake, the white granite countertops and the pretty white orchid growing from a green porcelain pot set between the twin sinks, the fluffy white towels rolled into perfect spirals in the cubby below. The soft lighting and clean lines makes it feel welcoming, almost romantic, if a bathroom could ever feel that way. When I’m washing my hands, I finger one of the orchid’s petals, but it’s real. I smooth my long hair and straighten my shirt before tossing the hand towel in the bin below and unlocking the door.
When I swing it open, a wall of sound from the party envelops me, but it’s Nic standing there, like he was waiting, that sends a zip of fear down my spine.
“What’s going?—”
He forces into the bathroom and shuts the door behind him, flicking the lock.
I stare him down, my breaths coming faster. “What are you doing?”
“You were going to leave without saying goodbye?” He tsks with his tongue. “After everything I’ve done for you?”
A hot buzz works up my chest. “Let me out of the bathroom, Nic. Right now.”
“Fuck,” he spits, walking up to me. I smell the alcohol on his breath. “Not until you show me a little gratitude.”
I just need to get past him, and I can unlock the door and run, but he must see my mind working because he lunges for me, grabbing me around the waist in a bear hug. I scream and flail, but he whips me around and my temple smacks into the wall. Pain erupts in my skull. In the split second I’m reeling in pain, he folds me over the counter, his body pinning me in place.
“You aren’t leaving until I get what I want,” he says.
