Pushing my legs wider, he settles deeper, strokes harder… And when his finger finds my clit again, soft whimpers grow into frenzied moans. I thrash my head, calling his name again and again. Another powerful thrust, and my world spins out of control. My nails dig long scratches into the wood finish as I gasp for air.
Impatient for his own release, Julian increases his maniacal tempo. His hold tightens, and with one final drive into my body, he groans into my neck.
Even if I wanted to speak, there’s nothing to say.
Closing his eyes, he grasps for the frayed strings of his control.
I want to lighten the mood, but it’s like the sex that normally fixes us, has broken us. He was inside of me, but now we’re miles apart.
Julian opens his eyes, the corners of his mouth turning down. “Fuck.” After readjusting his shorts, he shoves his hand in his hair and turns his back to me.
What the hell just happened?
“Julian?”
“I need to pack.”
“You’re shutting me out again. Talk to me. Have you heard anything about that Cayden girl you’re not telling me? Or anything about”—I swallow hard—“my father?”
“Nothing’s wrong, Phoebe. It’s just…” His fingers dive deeper into his hair, twisting and tugging at the roots. “I was way out of line just now. I’m sorry. I took my frustration out on you. That was too rough after what you’ve been through. It’ll never happen again.”
There’s something in his voice that worries me. “I didn’t exactly push you away. You didn’t hurt me,” I assure him, kissing his bicep. “I didn’t mean to provoke you.”
He cocks his chin over his shoulder. “You didn’t do anything. This is on me and my damn issues.” Finally facing me, he gathers me in his arms. “I love you. I’d do anything for you. Do you understand that?” I nod, and he hooks his finger under my chin, tipping it up so that we’re eye to eye. “I need the words. I need to hear you say that you understand and trust me to do what I think is best.”
“I know you love me, Julian. Whatever’s wrong, you’ll tell me when you can.” Lies. Lies. All lies.
This is his chance for confession. His chance to break our circular pattern of secrets and forgiveness. Instead, he gives me a final lingering kiss before turning to climb the stairs.
Pacing doesn’t help.
Neither does hanging out at the bottom of the stairs listening for the sound of his footsteps.
Eventually, I settle on the couch, nervously rolling the appointment card in my fingers until the edges are worn and dirty. Nothing quells the unease in my stomach that’s festering into a full-blown ulcer.
He’s hiding something.
The gears shift into reverse again. Julian has shut down on me, falling into the same pattern he’s found so comfortable—solitude.
No matter what I say, I can’t get him to realize we’re a team. Especially after everything that happened in New York with his stalker. His refusal to include me in his torment almost got us both killed.
Now, we’re starting to turn down the same path. I can feel it. Even though we’ve only known each other less than a year, Julian Bale has become an extension of my soul. I can sense the shifts in his behavior before they happen.
Heaving a frustrated sigh, I hold the card up to my face and study the words scribbled across it.
Three weeks.
Surely, that’ll be enough notice. Of course it is. Three weeks gives his new manager plenty of time to schedule the band a break from their whirlwind promo tour and Julian’s book publicity junkets.
It’s not like this can be repeated. We’ve already rescheduled it once because Surge Records sent Julian flying to parts unknown on a whim. I went into this knowing life with a rock star wouldn’t be typical, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a little resentment with every broken promise in the name of his fans.
March nineteenth at two p.m.
Just reading the date tugs at the corner of my mouth until my lips curl into a smile. Julian and I will find out if the spare bedroom will be painted pink or blue.
I can’t wait to tell him. I just hope after his crazy mood swings, the bizarre table sex we just had, and my impending trip to Griffith Park, we’ll still be speaking enough to enjoy the verdict.
I can’t shake the feeling that Julian and I are unraveling, and one loose thread is