Page 81 of Down Beat
“Did I interrupt?”
Kendall spins to find Rey directly behind her, hesitant, in the hall. “You’ve got a lot of people worried, you know that? Maybe you should let somebody know where you are next time you have a diva moment.”
She marches toward the living area, leaving him staring at me with a surprised lift of an eyebrow. “She always that blunt?”
I nod as I turn. My bed creaks when I hit it face-first. “Ugh,” I mumble into the bedspread. “Ignore her.”
His chuckle draws closer, his weight making my mattress dip toward him. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I think Kris and Emery talked Toby around to the idea.”
“He didn’t want me there?” For some reason, knowing that stabs at my gut. I’m not exactly the type who cares what people think of me—each to their own—but I don’t want to be labeled as at fault for this. “He knows I had nothing to do with your impromptu visit, right?” I don’t want to end up in the crossfire of a war between siblings.
“Yeah, he knows it was all me.” Rey stretches out across the bed also, and then reaches out to snag me by the shirt.
I tumble against him when he pulls, my hand only just saving me from a pretty damn ungraceful collision between my nose and his shoulder. “Easy.”
“Fuck easy,” he mumbles, encasing me in his arm. “Tour with me, kitty, and you’ll soon see there ain’t much that’s easy when it comes to the life and times of Rey Thomas.”
I feel adored, tucked in his hold, and yet at the same time I’m not fool enough to not recognize that I’m currently in the hands of an expert showman.
I know without a shadow of a doubt that he’s about to majorly change my life, but if that’s for better, or worse, I don’t know. I can’t distinguish the line between our reality and this illusion I seem content to be caught up in. I know what I should do, I know what the “smart” thing to say would be, but like a junkie staring down that last needle, I’m not quite ready to walk away from the danger.
The lure of the thrill that comes with his drug is too strong. One week, even one day. How amazing would it be to experience his world?
Fuck—you’re only gifted one life. May as well make sure it has some memorable moments to laugh about in your old age, right?
“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”
He smirks, pushing up on one elbow to look down at me. “Depends.” Firm fingers find my chin and coax my face up toward his. He places a soft, slow kiss to my mouth, gentle and reverent as he pulls back. “I don’t think I will.”
I rest my forehead against his lips for a moment before I settle against his side. “Tell me. Any crazy ex-girlfriends or stalkers I need to know about? Do I need my own bodyguard?”
His chest vibrates beneath my ear with his laugh. “Fuck. I wish.” He lets out an amused snort. “I haven’t exactly been celibate, kitty, but no, there aren’t any crazy exes.”
“Really?” I push up to rest on my elbow, and frown at him. “You haven’t broken numerous hearts on your rise to fame? I find that hard to believe.”
His stoic expression kills the humor. “I don’t let people get that close to me, Tabby.”
His switch from “kitty” to my actual name—albeit a shortened version—leaves me unsettled. He’s dead serious. It intensifies the pressure somewhat, knowing that this connection, this rapid burn we’re on, is new for him.
“You look worried,” he muses, tracing my face with his finger.
“Because I am.”
“Why?”
I pull free of his hold to sit on the edge of the bed. “What if I hurt you? What if I end up making you worse? I’m not a shrink, Rey. I know music—classical music. That’s all. I’m no expert in how to help somebody who’s bipolar.”
The shutdown is visible as he rolls off the foot of the bed and then stands tall. “So don’t treat me as bipolar,” he grits through a tight jaw. “Treat me as fucking human.”
I don’t get to say another word before he storms from the room, his heavy footfalls retreating to the living room before the slam of the door echoes through the place. Shit. I launch from the bed and skid into the main room to find Kendall staring at me with her brow raised in a “What do you want me to do?” expression.
“I’ll be back soon.” I scramble to tug my boots on, whipping my coat off the back of the bedroom door before I skid back past Kendall to chase him down.
“He needs a fucking babysitter, Tab!” she hollers as I swing the door shut behind me.
My blood boils as I hit the stairs, my anger split between her ignorance and his stubbornness. Why can’t she see that there’s clearly a deeper reason behind his behavior other than he’s a spoilt musician? And why does he always presume people believe that his labels are all there are to him?
I step out onto the sidewalk and get hit with the bite of a cool night breeze. The sun has completely gone to bed, only the glow of the streetlights giving me a limited view of the area. Which way would he go? I glance left, and then right, deciding on a whim to turn right since I read somewhere that men are more likely to pick that direction, which is why menswear is most often to the right of a shop entrance.