Page 108 of Sweetheart: Part One

She swallowed, frame slumping, expression broken.

I didn’t understand. We were supposed to be a job for her. I’d told her she got a free pass with me—that she didn’t have to do anything, and she’d still be paid. But she was wounded by that—trulywounded.

That was a splinter I couldn’t dig out.

Was it possible that she truly cared about the rest of us like she cared about Drake?

I knew how irrational it was to believe that, yet I couldn’t shake it, not with the desperation in her eyes. I didn’t deserve it from her, yet she was determined to offer it anyway.

I wanted to convince her there was nothing wrong with her at all, to find something to say that might make her smile. To be someone worthy of claiming the kiss she’d denied me on that first night. The alpha in me wanted to claim a lot more than that. I didn’t just want her, I wanted the world to know. My gaze slid down to her slender neck, and at the shift of my eyes she swallowed, breathing hitching just slightly. Primal desires spun images of what it would be like to sink my teeth into her flesh right now.

Absolute proof that we really needed a Sweetheart.

An omega was absolutely off the table with Ebony. He was possessive enough as it was without alpha-omega hormones making everything worse. But a beta was safer.

Would she ever consider becoming part of our bond?

I snorted.

Even if she wasn’t distressed because I’d rejected her outright, Ebony would make that decision easy for her. The contract was the safest place for her to remain.

“What?” she asked, peering at me. There was a drunken listlessness in her eyes now that spoke to fatigue. I shook my head, finally dragging my eyes from her and forcing them around the room.

“I can never get a read on you,” she whispered.

“I get that a lot,” I replied.

I saw what was wrong now, as I stared into her eyes, so close. Therewasfaint redness beneath them, and even with the makeup, her nose was too pink.

I drew back, suddenly afraid of any gentleness I might be offering. She was sad, intoxicated, and I held far too much power in her life. This was not the distance I needed to keep between us. And it was worse, seeing her like this with her heart on her sleeve. Caring for Drake, and so honest and vulnerable about the way I’d hurt her.

Sorrow trickled through my chest.

Another casualty of circumstances I’d tied myself to: destined to be separated by a document from a woman I might want more from. Vex would stay because of signatures and a pay cheque, and I would never dare ask more of her.

The smile on her face poorly masked sadness. “The Hightower brothers remain a mystery.”

I almost smiled at that, a rush of warmth at the title she spoke. We’d all chosen our names when we’d entered the grind for fame. We were—from title to personality—a brand, though most people kept their last names the same.

Ebony hadn’t, and I didn’t blame him, but I’d kept mine, since‘Starless’was more melodramatic than I was willing to commit to.

I sighed.

“I should go to bed,” I said.

She shrunk, pain flashing through her rich chocolate eyes, but all she managed was a nod.

“Can’t… can’t catch a break,” she whispered. “And then I missed…” Her gaze darted to me nervously.

She’d missed my night.

Damn.

It had been an accident. She hadn’t given up.

“I’m…” I trailed off, having been about to say I was pleased. But she was so fragile already, I didn’t want to hurt her more. “I’m not mad,” I landed on.

She nodded.

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