“Natalie?”
Chad rejoins me, a vodka bottle secured in his hand and a mixer in the other as she walks away, giving me a full view of Easton without interruption—he slowly lifts his chin to me in summons. My chest visibly bounces once with my laugh and refusal.
My answering expression? Go fuck yourself.
“Oh shit, that’s Easton Crowne, isn’t it?” Chad shouts, following my gaze and tuning into our stare-off. Hands full, he bristles next to me, his lingering question breaking me out of my stupor.
Focus on Chad, who’s attainable, present, and who wouldn’t be a life-altering mistake.
A safe choice, albeit temporary, but one I desperately need to make to save myself from the heart demanding a quick exit from Chad to flee to Easton.
Don’t you dare abandon me now, you worthless muscle!
“He’s staring at you like—”
“We’re friends.” Even as I draw my own battle lines, the words still feel like a filthy betrayal coming from my lips.
“It’s clear he thinks differently by the way he’s looking at you.” My attention flits briefly back to Easton as static fires between us before his gaze drifts to Chad, who turns back to me with a quizzical look. “How do you know him?”
“Work, w-we were working, we worked together, temporarily—I’m in media,” I answer, unable to rip my eyes away from Easton when the dark-haired goddess rejoins him, offering him a water. From the way she situates herself against him on the couch, it’s clear they have history. Maybe they’re going to make more tonight. The thought has my stomach turning as I toss back the remnants of my first and last drink, snapping my eyes away and giving Easton his victory.
I don’t want to play adult games with a childish heart. I’m unsure which one of us is acting more like the child at this point. I just want to take what’s left of me, go home, and nurse it back to health.
I’m fucking out.
Done.
Imagining him in this life will make it so much easier for me to let go. If this is truly his world, there’s no way I can be any part of it. I’d make myself fucking sick obsessing over this very scenario nightly. Even if our parents’ history weren’t a barrier, there’s no way this could ever work.
“Natalie, are you okay?”
“No, I’m not, Chad,” I speak up, refusing to look back in Easton’s direction as I feel the sting start in the back of my eyes and will it away. “Can you please walk me out?”
Chad nods, discarding his haul on the bar before gently gripping my arm above my elbow and guiding me through the sea of warm bodies. As the music switches, my anger morphs to hurt.
Did he mean a single fucking word he said to me in the past few days?
Is this some sort of payback for leaving him in Seattle and not answering his calls?
Chad ushers me toward the stairs, his hand on the small of my back as I walk away with purpose, thankful I came and saw what I needed to in order to let the fantasy go. I exhale heavily and let resignation sink in. The second Chad and I make it to the landing at the top of the stairs, I feel the shift in the air before warm, calloused fingers grip my shoulder. My scalp prickles as I glance back to find Easton glaring between us both.
“Where the fuck are you going?” Easton hisses, his eyes raking me in a possessive sweep.
“Pretty rude, man,” Chad interjects, winning points with me.
Easton’s gaze darts to him. “And you are?”
“Chad, this is Easton Crowne. Easton, Chad. Chad was just escorting me out.” Catcalls sound from feet away as I motion over Easton’s shoulder. “Thanks for the invite. Great show tonight, I mean that. It was exceptional. I wish you every success and…enjoy your orgy.” Hating the jealous edge to my voice, I stand firm and turn again as Easton grips my wrist, his gaze locked with mine.
“Nice to fucking meet you, Chad,” Easton clips. “Read the fucking situation and take the hint.” Chad eyes Easton’s hand on my wrist. “I’m asking nicely.”
“Natalie,” Chad reasons, shaking his head. “I’ve obviously stumbled into something.”
“No,” I speak up clearly. “No, you really haven’t,” I place a placating hand on Easton’s chest just as he tightens his hold on my wrist. I may as well have tossed jet fuel on the fire. “You go on. I’ll find you downstairs before I leave.”
Chad frowns. “Sure?”
“No, she fucking won’t,” Easton snaps, “so make peace with it now and move the fuck on. I’m done asking nicely.”
Chad looks at Easton with a ‘you’re a dick’ expression before he leans in.
“Nice to meet you, Natalie.” Chad concedes, pulling out of the ring because he’s no idiot, and the air around Easton has turned deadly.
“You too,” I sigh as Chad glances between us once more before starting down the stairs. Easton’s eyes rake down my dress as I spot the stunner who was catering to him standing at the edge of a nearby couch, her eyes darting curiously between the two of us.
“Uh, I think that woman needs you…or something.”
“I’m not with her,” he says bluntly.
“Okay. Well, she’s got a different impression.”
“No, she doesn’t,” he pulls me a step back into the room.
“Easton, stop this shit, now, and let me go.”
Ignoring me, he pulls me into him. Panicking, I glance around. “You’re making a scene. People are staring.”
“That’s your hang-up, not mine,” he growls. “We need to talk. We’re talking. Right fucking now.”
“No, we’re good. I came, I saw. I got the T-shirt, thank you for a lovely—fuck!” I shriek as Easton moves like a freight train through the room, bypassing hordes of people toward a heavily guarded hall. He stops and addresses a security guard, and the guard nods, letting Easton pull me past him.
In the next second, I’m being tugged down the corridor before being yanked into and released inside a hotel suite fit for royalty. Glaring at me, Easton slams the door behind him and closes his eyes, fists clenched at his sides.
Averting my gaze from the tall, dark, gorgeous temptation blocking my exit, I sweep the room. Floor-to-ceiling windows on one side, a sunken tub, and an opulent master bath on the other. In the middle of the room, beneath a sea of white-washed glass, sits a massive four-poster bed. It’s posh, pristine, and wildly romantic, but I’m far too pissed off to appreciate it.
“What in the hell is wrong with you?!” I shout as Easton remains standing at the door, seeming to gather himself. He’s angry in a way I’m not familiar with, though I’ve been warned of his temper. He seems to be trying to rein it in now as he stands motionless for several seconds. But when his eyes finally open, it’s all I can do to keep from taking a step back. He’s positively furious.
“Admit it,” he commands in a lethal tone.
“Admit what? That you’re acting like a fucking child? That’s your admission to make.”
“Admit you didn’t want to leave what happened in Seattle any more than I did, and you still don’t.”
Torch Song
Shady Bard
Natalie
Our chests rise and fall as he shakes his head in irritation. “Jesus, you really are intent on seeing this through.”
“Easton—”
“Fine,” he interrupts, pointing to his chest, “I’ll go first, again. I’ve thought about you every damn day since you left, but I’ve made that pretty fucking obvious. Your turn.”
“What is this? A tantrum for not getting the reaction you hoped for?”
“Oh, I got it,” he scoffs, “I saw it, I can still see it, feel it, all of it from you. You just fucking refuse to admit it to me.” He blows out a harsh exhale and rolls his head up on the door, his tone biting. “I want to hear you say it.”
I stalk toward him, more so, toward the door. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do to me, but you win, Easton, okay? You win.” I stop a foot away and can physically feel the contempt rolling off his frame.
“You think I can’t see what hurts you? Fucking admit it, Natalie.”