Idol (VIP 1)

“What? No. It’s nothing.”

“You sure? Because I don’t have these massive biceps just for show. I’ll gladly put on the hurt for you.”

“You’re sweet. But it’s really nothing. This is just not my scene.”

“It’s no one’s scene. You have to own it to make it yours.”

“Well, I’m not interested.”

A glance across the room and find Killian’s familiar form. He has two women clinging to his arms, though he doesn’t seem to notice them as he talks to John, one of our sound engineers. The blonde on his left clearly doesn’t like being ignored and begins to stroke his chest. My own chest tightens, and I look away.

“Right there,” Rye points to my face. “Goat look.”

“Argh, would you stop using goat? I’m going to develop a complex.” My laugh feels forced. “I’m fine.”

“Here we are,” Brenna announces brightly as she sets down two martini glasses, filled with lime green liquid. “One fruity, pity-party cocktail—industrial strength.”

Rye gives me a look. “You were saying?”

“What was she saying?” Brenna asks, sitting down and taking a sip of her drink.

At this point it’s a miracle she’s including Rye in the conversation, so even though I’d rather not talk about it, I answer. “That I do not look like I swallowed a goat.”

One finely plucked brow rises. “Of course you don’t, darling. It’s more like you sucked a lemon.”

I roll my eyes and grab my drink. It’s tart, sweet, and burns a little going down. Perfect.

“She’s in a mood,” Rye says. Without warning, he wraps a beefy arm around me and pulls me in for a hug, sloshing my drink all over the table. “There, there, Buttercup, tell me who put the frown on your face, and I’ll best them with my sword.”

A weak laugh breaks free, and I rest my head on his shoulder. I’m an only child, but I know Rye would have made an excellent big brother.

It’s almost strange how I can feel Killian when he comes near. One second, I’m grinning, feeling a bit heartsore but cared for. The next, my body tenses, my heart rate picking up. I know it’s because of him, and it’s not a surprise to look up and see him standing in front of our table.

The blonde is still on his arm. The woman hasn’t done anything remotely wrong, and I hate her.

Everything inside me plummets. I feel like I’ve swallowed a goat.

His gaze flicks to me, then settles on Rye. Tension lines his mouth as he bends forward to be heard. “Hey, man, Jenny here wanted to meet you.”

Rye instantly untangles himself from me and gestures for Jenny to scoot in on his opposite side. “By all means. Meet me, adore me, buy me a drink. I’m good with all the above.”

A barely veiled gagging noise comes from Brenna’s direction. Rye ignores it and tugs Jenny down on his lap.

While she giggles and snuggles close to Rye, Killian glances back at me. His eyes are hard, and I want to laugh. Does he really think I’m cozying up to Rye? The twitch at his jaw tells me he does. I glare back, annoyance plucking at my skin.

“I was going to ask if you two needed anything,” he says, overloud to compensate for the music. “But it looks like you’re taken care of.”

I’d like to tell him where he can take his snide tone. But Brenna cuts in. “Hang out with us.” She sounds almost desperate, her body stiff and her gaze resolutely not on Rye and his new friend.

Killian doesn’t look at me as he shakes his head. “Jax has been giving me shit about being a hermit,” he emphasizes the word like a whip in my direction. “Hiding away in a booth isn’t going to help.”

Ass. I’m not a hermit. Not since he dragged me into this life and made me see what I was missing. And I don’t hide. Okay, right now I have the urge to crawl back into my shell. But I’ve grown out of it. I’d be miserable there too.

A lump rises in my throat, loneliness washing over me like a wave. But then Killian turns to me, leaning in a little. Even in the cold, musty air of the club, I catch his scent, spicy and warm. His coffee eyes soften. “You good?”

The lump in my throat grows. He’s giving me what I asked for. Anonymity. If I don’t want our relationship public, this is how it has to be. But he’s still mine. I can see it now in the way his eyes suddenly look pained.

“I’m good,” I croak.

He peers at me for another second, then nods. “See you.”

As soon as he’s gone, I deflate in my seat.

“Trouble in paradise?” Brenna murmurs in my ear.

I down the rest of my cocktail before answering. “He doesn’t like hiding.”

I don’t worry about Rye overhearing. He already has his tongue down Jenny’s throat, and they’re slowly listing to the right.