Page 114 of Drive
“Okay,” I said, feeling the accusation. “Well, it’s none of my business anyway,” I retorted, the whiplash from his sudden mood swings filtering through my body, a telltale sign it was a very bad idea to be standing anywhere with him. “This looks like as good of a place as any.”
“There’s a nice big bedroom down the hall,” Reid said. “I know how much you love a mattress. Maybe we could all fit, for old time’s sake.”
I reeled on him. “What the hell is your problem?”
He smirked, and I turned my back to him.
“I have a wedding rehearsal in two hours,” I told Ben. “I need to get this started. I don’t care if we have the interview in the damned bathroom.”
“There’s the cocky little girl I know and love,” Ben said, looking between Reid and me with unease. “Don’t start shit, man,” he warned. “We owe her.”
“That’s why she’s here,” Reid reminded him. “My idea,” he murmured, full of sarcasm as he blew out a puff of smoke and tilted his rocks glass in my direction. “You’re welcome.”
“I didn’t want to come,” I said with a sigh. “And now I damn sure don’t want to stay.”
Reid threw out the rest of his drink in a nearby plant, and I moved toward the door. He stopped me with a hand on my arm, which I jerked away.
“Ben, let me have her,” Reid said sharply, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Hell no, she’s already pissed. We need this interview done. We’ve held off the press release for two fucking months so she could announce this tour!”
“I’ll play nice,” he whispered.
I raised my brow without a clue as to what was going on. And I decided it was best if I didn’t. “How about we don’t play at all. I’ll be set up in the living room in ten minutes.” I walked back into the penthouse and gave Adam and Rye a wary glance.
“Oh shit.”
I didn’t know which one it came from and I didn’t care. I mentally rehearsed a list of questions for both my podcast andSpeakwhile I ignored the rattle. My questions for the podcast were far more personal, and I had no intentions of holding back. It’s like the boys said. They owed me.
“Stella,” Reid whispered at my back, making me jump as I tightened the lock on my tripod.
“It’s fine, Reid, save your apology. Let’s just get this over with.”
“You didn’t want to come?”
I let out a heavy breath, refusing to look his direction. “No.”
I felt the tightness start in my chest as I turned to face him and nearly slammed into his chest. All at once, I was surrounded by nicotine, the hint of whiskey on his breath, and the fucking Irish Spring that seemed to dance off his skin, putting me on high alert.
“You’re filthy rich, you think you would switch from cheap soap.”
“They make body wash now.” He chuckled.
Whiplash.Or maybe I’d just forgotten how volatile he was.
“Why are you still working atSpeak?”
“I’m happy there,” I said, taken off guard.
“But that’s not what you wanted,” he pressed.
“I’m getting there,” I said. “These things take time.”
“Bullshit. You were supposed to be traveling and writing. That was your dream.”
“Dreams change,” I said with a shrug. “I’m exactly where I want to be.”
He eyed me as if every word I spoke was a lie.
