Luc grabbed her arm. “Don’t go. Please. Ignore him. Stay with me.”
“Deke doesn’t want me here. He made that obvious from the start, and I shouldn’t have barged in. Lesson learned.” Kimber caressed his arm, stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Thank you for all you’ve done. I think I know enough to please Jesse, and that was the point.”
“He’s a pop star with a transient life and a wild reputation. You’re a settle-down kind of girl who deserves a stable home and love. I care about you and I want to—” Kimber kissed his words away, softly. Deke could almost taste her regret and pain as he watched. Then she drew in a teary, shaking breath. “Luc, I’ve got to go. I care about you, too, but I can’t be here with him. It hurts too much.” Oh, shit.
She opened the door and turned back. Deke’s gaze connected with hers, and it felt like a battering ram crushing his chest. His cheek burned where she’d slapped him, and he knew that would be the last place she ever touched him. Hell, he was going to implode from the pain. He hurt so f**king bad.
Kimber didn’t say a word. She just shook her head, stepped out, and slammed the door behind her. His knees nearly crumpled. Deke turned and braced himself against the wall, closing his eyes against this hell.
Luc cursed softly, an ugly string of words Deke doubted his cousin had ever uttered in his life. He was in major trouble, no doubt. Luc had every right to be pissed. Kimber had every right to hate him. She couldn’t hate him anymore than he hated himself right now.
CHAPTER 8
Kimber smoothed down a ripple in her jeans, flipped her hair over her shoulder, then knocked on the door.
Nearly five years. That’s how long it had been since she’d actually seen Jesse McCall in the flesh. She’d seen dozens of pictures. They’d talked on the phone, written countless e-mails. They’d shared parts of themselves over the years—what it had been like for her to grow up without feminine influence after her mother’s death, what it had been like for him to be thrust into sudden stardom. Her difficult classes. His demanding schedule. Her wishes. His dreams.
She’d planned for months to be with him so they could share all that together in person finally, maybe for the rest of their lives.
Now, she’d come here with mixed feelings, no longer certain what her future held. She’d wanted to be with him for so long. But Deke, his anguish and need, his hunger and denial, haunted her. Kimber’s stomach twisted with pain. She pushed it down, hoping to achieve the numbness that had blanketed her for the past forty-eight hours.
Clear the mind. Deep breath. A little calm, but will it ever be enough?
For days after she’d left East Texas, Kimber had hoped that Deke would call and apologize, beg her to come back, tell her he was sorry for humiliating her. God, the hours of tears she’d cried…
Jesse had been the last thing on her mind.
From Deke, there’d been silence. Utter, hellish silence. Luc had called to check on her, and attempt to cajole her into returning. He’d even pleaded. But Deke wasn’t going to beg her to come back. According to him, he had a stiff dick for her, nothing more. Kimber didn’t believe it. She’d gotten too close to him emotionally; Deke had shed her in an attempt to protect her from something she didn’t understand. But he was also protecting himself.
After he’d thrown the offer of her virginity back in her face and all but announced he was tossing her over for a stripper was a hell of a time to realize that she loved him.
She shoved the thought and the chest-crushing pain aside as footsteps approached the door. She took a deep breath. The blessed numbness began to return.
Deke expected her to move on. So here Kimber was, at Jesse’s door, determined to follow through with her plan. She still adored Luc, but she had to get over Deke and carve out a future.
What else could she do?
The hotel room door opened. A stranger with a boyish smile stood in the doorway. Wavy brown hair. Blue eyes. He would have been white bread and apple pie—except for the big tattoo of a skull and crossbones on his biceps, his black eyeliner, and the bullring through his nose.
“Hi, I’m here to see Jesse.”
He stuck out his hand, pale and artistic. “You must be Kimber. I’m Ryan. I do backup vocals and write songs.”
She took his hand, shook it. “Oh, yes. He’s mentioned you many times. Nice to meet you.”
Ryan’s gaze roamed over her with subtle appreciation. “You, too. He said you were a gorgeous girl, but he was wrong. You’re a gorgeous woman, and he’s going to be surprised.”
Sending him a nervous smile, Kimber looked around the room. A suite. A very nice one in tasteful taupes and creams—and a view of Houston’s skyline that went on forever.
“Thank you. Is Jesse here?”
“Just getting out of the shower. He asked me to greet you since he got out of rehearsals a bit late and had to take an unexpected radio interview.” Ryan shrugged narrow shoulders. “Goes with the territory.”
“I’m sure.”
Kimber tried not to be let down, tried not to fidget. Surely, Jesse would have greeted her personally if he could. Still, she’d waited five years and she really, really needed a friend. Couldn’t those people wait ten minutes?
“Have a seat,” Ryan invited. “Drink?”