And back in my life. In my arms. Back believing the sun shines out of my ass.
It’s a pointless, hopeless dream, and that’s why it sticks in my throat. Eli’s safer if he stays away from me, and now he’ll never speak to me again. Mission accomplished. Game over.
I’ve been reckless. And greedy. Eli won’t be the last casualty of my secret heart. I have Gabriel and Noah, and that should be enough. Gabriel’s made it clear he doesn’t care who I sleep with or what I do, except that I see him watching Noah across the table with a new wariness. Gabe thinks he’s been subtle, but he’s had too much to drink and subtle isn’t exactly his middle name. For all his jokes, he’s not happy with what he sees between Noah and me.
I don’t believe it’s possible, but I might’ve stripped back the corner of Gabriel’s mask to reveal the raw, broken flesh beneath.
And Noah… it’s as if my secret has flicked a switch inside him, and all that hate directed at me has exploded outward at the world. Gabe might’ve been the first person to scrub off a layer of my Ice Queen facade, but everything about him is glamorous and celestial. Whereas Noah is my own darkness reflected back at me – bloody and monstrous and real.
He’s been bound by the chains of his grief, his desire to fit into the life laid out for him. But when he whispers my name – my real name – he casts off those pieces of his old life and welcomes my legacy with open arms.
I don’t want that for him, especially not since our whole plan is focused on getting both me and Antony out of the family business. But I can’t stop Noah falling into the void. I could use a little company down here in the dark and cold.
Only, I know he’s not as simple as that. When we fucked in the panic room, Noah believed I was Mackenzie. I was the person he hated most in the world, and he buried his dick inside me and he made me come and he—
How did my life get so fucking complicated?
After dinner, Gabriel catches my arm as I head to my room. “You slept with Marlowe,” he cocks his eyebrow at me. His eyes are pure starlight – as if his body is made of the same magic as his music.
“Very astute.” He’s more coherent than he was a few hours ago, but the alcoholic haze swims in the corners of his eyes. “I’ve never seen you drunk before.”
Gabe giggles. He sounds maniacal, like a creepy clown. “No, you haven’t. Because here’s the thing you don’t know about me, Claudia. Here’s my big secret that I’ve been oh so good at keeping, just like you. I haven’t touched alcohol since Dylan died.”
That doesn’t make sense. “I’ve seen you drink. You had rainbow cocktails at Midnight Grotto, and those gross pink things at Daphne’s party.”
“The bartender at Midnight Grotto knows to only serve me non-alcoholic drinks. As for the pink thing, I dumped it onto Chad’s head when you weren’t looking.” Gabriel grins. “It was a much better use for the disgusting thing. What a travesty to the art of mixology.”
That gets a little snort of laughter out of me. “So why haven’t you been drinking? And what does that have to do with you being drunk now?”
Why do I remind you of your dead best friend?
“I spent so much of my last tour plastered off my face that I didn’t see what was happening to Dylan until it was too late. I could have saved him. I could have… been a friend. But I don’t know a thing about friendship. So consider this your warning. All my life, people pretend to care about me because they want something from me, and sometimes I can’t face the loneliness. Alcohol is like this shield between me and the world, except that it also shielded me from the one person who tried to love me for myself. I tried to be good. I tried to live with the loneliness, because I owe Dylan that. I fucking owe him…” Gabriel lurches forward, slamming his hand into the wall to catch himself before he knocks me over.
“Gabe…” I squeeze my eyes shut. It’s hard to look at him like this. That’s the most honest thing he’s said to me since we met, and he’s drunk. We can’t do this now when