“They’re fucking going. To shit. To hell. They’re going up in fucking flames.” Scrubbing a hand over his face, he suddenly stiffens. “Don’t mention that to anyone.”
I roll my eyes. “Thanks for the warning. I have a trail of people who give a fuck enough for me to tell them what you’re doing.”
“Change your mind and see it my way about no one giving a fuck about you?”
Spinning away, I stomp to the desk. I think it’s the first time I’ve ever used it and sit with my back to him. “It slaps you in the face when you’re in the hospital and you’re all but forgotten.”
My voice shakes a little at this revelation. I don’t want it to hurt, but it does. My fingers twitch with sudden need. Crowell. I need him. Or, more specifically, his drugs.
Arms wrap around me and I jump before sinking against Sloane. I lay my head against his hard belly, covered with a gray T-shirt, and glance up at him. He bends and kisses my forehead, the brush of his lips burning my skin.
Desperate for love, for attention, for someone to care, I lift myself and aim my mouth for his. I’m in an awkward position, though, so I give up when he moves out of my reach and groans.
“I have to go.”
I don’t bother turning around at his announcement. Sooner or later, everyone in my life has to go. I just add him to the list and dig out my cellphone as originally planned.
Sloane
I’m playing with fucking fire. As I stand outside the door of Georgie’s study, in her sitting room, that thought runs through my head. This place is massive. Her area alone could count as a small apartment with the bedroom, sitting room, study, walk-in closet, and bathroom. It’s been decorated in various shades of pastels.
Our conversation is one of the most awkward in the history of verbal communication. The desire I feel for her and the knowledge I have about her mother leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. No matter how many girls I’ve fucked over the past eight days, my dick is still hard and throbbing now at seeing Georgie in her pretty peach-colored peignoir, her black hair framing her gorgeous little face.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been standing there when the door to the study opens and Georgie is there, wearing a sundress and wedged sandals, halting when she sees me and growling under her breath.
“I’m your fan,” she says with a sullen glare. “I stalk you, not the other way around.”
Her words surprise a laugh from me. This laugh, as did the other one in her study, eases my tension.
“You’re being really creepy,” she continues.
“Is that so?”
“Instead of staying in there with me, you’re staking out the door.” Suspicion enters her eyes and she balls her fists at her side, her entire body stiffening. “Are you checking up on me for my dad?”
“Yes,” I snap, “because I have nothing fucking better to do with my time than to spy for Parnell.”
Rolling her eyes, she folds her arms. “Doesn’t look like it since you’re here just staring at my door.”
Fuck. She’s right. I level her with an earnest look. “I’m worried about you,” I admit. “You’re…lost. I know what that looks like. I’ve been there. But I’m fucking with disaster.”
She glances at me, then lowers her gaze, flushing to the roots of her hair. “You don’t know me,” she whispers. “I’m just a girl. One of your millions of fans. No one to risk your career…” A brief lift of her eyes and a swallow. “Or your freedom.” She fists her dress and hangs her head. “I’d sleep with you. I know you know that. That’s wrong, too. Because…I…having sex with you wouldn’t make you stay. In the end, we’d just be using each other. Is that worth risking everything you have?”
Her insight surprises me and it weakens me a bit more. “Is it?”
She shrugs. “I got your favorite food wrong, so, maybe what I’m about to say is wrong, too. You don’t believe in love, so insta-love is completely out of the question. I think you’re searching for an outlet to all the bad boy energy that you’ve had to contain for months.”
“Bad boy energy?”
She’s on a roll in analyzing me, so my words don’t halt her for long. Continuing, she punctuates her sentences with hand gestures.
“In me, you see the forbidden and that’s exciting to you. If you have me, you won’t be bored. You’ll also be thumbing your nose at everyone who’s telling you to behave.”
“Not much fun if they can’t know I’m misbehaving.”
She cocks her head to the side. “I think for you the danger is in the threat of getting caught. Isn’t that why some married people cheat? For the thrill and the chase and the excitement they no longer find at home?”