Jace (Kings of Country 1)

“Jace Black, everyone.” Guy James shook his hand again and a woman escorted him offstage.

“That was awesome, man, awesome.” Luke was pumped up. “Love the new song. Drinks?”

“I’m beat, Luke.” He shook his head. “I’m calling it.”

“I’ll get you a car.” Luke pulled out his ever-handy phone.

In five minutes, Jace was headed for the hotel, dozing against the car door. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been up all night. He was bone-tired and determined to avoid Travis King once he got to the hotel. He didn’t have the energy to deal with that sort of trouble. Or the hurt Krystal’s accusations had caused him.

He stared out the window at the palm trees, fighting to keep his eyes open. He propped himself in the corner of the elevator up to his room and started kicking off clothes as soon as his hotel room door clicked shut behind him.

A hot shower later and he was on his way to bed.

Until the banging on his door started.

“Hold up.” He wrapped the towel around his waist. “Travis, man—”

But it was Krystal, wearing the same gigantic black sweatshirt she’d had on this morning—no makeup and a tangled mess of curls on the top of her head.

“Hi.” He stared at her, stunned. “You wanna come in?”

She hesitated. “For a minute.” She slipped past him and into his room, rocking from foot to foot, her hands shoved into the pocket of her sweatshirt. “I saw you on Guy James tonight.” And she wasn’t happy.

He closed the door and stood, barefoot and wet-headed. “Yeah.” She had more to say, he could tell. After last night, he braced himself.

“What was that? What was with the knight-in-shining-armor crap?” She wrapped her arms around her waist. “I don’t need you being all…noble. You can say, ‘Hey, Guy, I’m here to talk about me tonight.’ Or just tell him to mind his own business. It’s not your job to champion me. And those pictures are just pictures. That’s all.”

“Hold on.” He ran a hand over his face, wishing he had a large cup of coffee. And that he was wearing clothes. “We need to back up a little.”

Her brows shot up. “No. We do not.”

He held a hand up. “I don’t know what you thought was going on last night—”

“I know exactly what was going on last night.” She rolled her eyes, refusing to look at him. “You can screw whoever you want. I don’t care about that.”

It had been a long time since anger damn near choked him. But her easy dismissal tipped the scale. “I carried your drunk-ass brother to his hotel room last night. Got knocked into a table hard enough to break the damn thing.” He pointed at the purple-green ridge down his side. “It gets better. He waits to pass out just long just enough to throw up on my shirt.”

Krystal eyed the bruise. “And?”

“That’s what I was doing last night. That was his room I was leaving, Krystal. His—Travis’s. Travis threw the pillow.” He paused, watching her. “I leave him, sore and covered in vomit and whiskey, to see you leaning out of your room. And I’m happy all of a sudden because I get to see you before I go to bed. Make sure you’re okay. That your headache was better.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it. He didn’t miss the slight tremor in her hands or how unsteady her breathing was. But she tilted her head, thrust out her chin, unwilling to bend.

He ran a hand through his wet hair. “And then you jump down my throat for hooking up with someone who doesn’t exist. It’s easier to believe the worst. Is that it? Hell, I think you want to believe I’m that guy. But I’m not. If that’s your reason for acting like this thing between us doesn’t exist, then you’re out of luck. I will never be that guy. And now you know.”

Chapter 10

She could breathe again. Last night had been…devastating. Wrong. Why she’d let him get to her, she didn’t know. It was like she wanted to set herself up for disappointment over and over. And now…she was disappointed, all right. In herself.

She’d jumped to all the wrong conclusions—because she needed Jace Black to be an asshole. She needed a reason to keep her distance. He was dangerous.

After his interview, she had no choice. She’d been prepared to tell him off, convinced he’d been all doe-eyed and protective to come off looking good. But, no, he was just being Jace. A gentleman. Noble. Honor bound to come to her defense. Dammit. He was too good a guy to go down in flames defending her.

“I’m happy for you. Being virtuous and honorable and all that.” She swallowed, using her best bitch voice and eye roll. “Why do I care?” Don’t look at him.

“You don’t?” The question was low, gruff, and hard. “Or you won’t admit the truth?”

“The truth?” She shrugged. Fine, she’d tell him the truth. Part of the truth. “I’ve thought a lot about you. You and me. In bed. Hot and sweaty. It turns me on. How’s that for truth? It sounds really good.” Don’t look at him. “But more than that? No thank you.”