Tempting the Crown (The Crown 1)

I bit my lip, trying to convince myself she hadn’t seen me.

But after the next three artists snubbed me, I couldn’t pretend any longer. I wasn’t welcome here.

The lights flickered and everyone squeezed through the doors to find their seats. I hesitated. If I left, no one would care. They would find a seat filler for me. Someone like Olivia would say I wasn’t able to make it to accept my award. But screw that. I was stronger than what they thought they knew about me.

I had a song to perform tonight.

I had awards to collect.

I had an image to rebuild, and I wasn’t going to start that by running away. I didn’t know if Luke was in my life anymore, but he had taught me that strength wasn’t sporadic. It wasn’t a convenience you could turn on and off. It was a part of my DNA.

The Lexi Wilde that clawed her way to the top was going to dig her boots in and stay.

34

Luke

I heard an obnoxious pounding sound coming from the foyer. I opened one eye and then another. I looked down at the empty bottle of bourbon on the floor. It was at least the third one. Fuck. My head hurt.

I heard it again. Someone was at the front door.

I pushed myself off the couch, stumbling to the door. I opened it.

Alexa was on the porch, dressed in a long beaded gown that hugged her hips and dipped between her breasts.

For a second I had forgotten that she had betrayed me. That we were no longer together. I saw her and my instinct was to pull her in my arms and kiss every inch of her skin. And then I remembered.

“What are you doing here?” I growled.

“If this is the only way I can get you to talk to me, I had to at least try.”

“I don’t want to talk.”

I stumbled back.

“Are you drunk?” Her eyes widened.

“Fuck yeah. You have a problem with that?”

“Is this my fault? Have you been drinking for two days? I called Linc and he said you had a cold. This isn’t a cold. This is stupid.”

“Go back to Nashville, Alexa.” I started to close the door in her face, but her palm slammed on my initials.

“No. You are going to hear me out, Luke.”

She busted past the loose hold I had on the double doors and marched into the living room. She was a blurry whirl of glitter and sequins. I couldn’t keep up. I was fucking drunk.

She stood in front of the fireplace. I tried to keep my focus on her, but the room spun.

“You need to get in bed.” She looked at me. “You are drunker than I thought.”

Before I knew it, she had my arm over her slender shoulder and started to push me toward the bedroom.

“You are not getting in my bed,” I threatened.

“I know,” she whispered. “But you need to sleep this off and we can talk in the morning.”

“I don’t know about that.” I shook my head.