Idol (VIP 1)

He frowns. “Libby, if you need me—”

“I don’t.” I know he cares. But I’m done being his problem to solve.

He recoils as if I’ve slapped him. That burns too. I’m not the one backing off. He promised everything would be okay if we stuck together. And now this.

“Okay, then,” he says slowly, the frown growing deeper.

I want to rage and fight. But pride forces me to remain calm. I refuse to be any man’s regret. I sigh and run a hand through my hair. My head hurts. My heart aches. “Killian, I’ll be fine. It’s like you said; this is just the next step.” Where I leave you. I don’t want to leave you.

“And your tour won’t last forever. I’ll just wait in L.A….” I trail off, not really knowing what else to say. Everything is jumbled and stuck in my chest.

His body is stiff as he stands, setting his hands low on his hips. “Look…You’ll be busy. I’ll be busy.” He takes a breath, like he’s trying to force his words out. “You can take this time to settle down, see what you really want.”

“What I really want?” My lips feel numb. He’s not just sending me away. He’s letting me go. And here I was worried about setting him free. I want to laugh. Or cry. It’s a toss-up.

“Yeah,” he croaks. “Without me hovering or holding you back. You can… You can figure out if this is the way you really want to live.”

Somehow I find the strength to nod. “Yeah, you’re right. Everything has been going full-tilt. Half the time, it didn’t even seem real.”

He blanches at that but makes a noise of agreement. It’s so stiff, his manner so impersonal.

I find myself babbling on, making excuses for both of us. “And it would be stupid to hold each other back when we don’t know where we’ll end up.”

Lie. Lie. Lie. I want to beg him to just hold me, tell the world to fuck off. But he’s already backing up.

His gaze is clear. “This is good, Libs,” he tells me, his voice flat. “You’ll see. You can take the time now and find out if this is the life you want, without me interfering. And I can…” He shrugs. “I can do the tour like a good little rocker and stay out of the news.”

I flinch. It’s my fault he was in the news. “So, that’s it then.”

Killian’s dark eyes hold mine. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

Killian

I let her go. It needed to be done. For her sake. I tell myself these things as I make an excuse to get the hell out of the room, claiming I need to do a sound check. She doesn’t stop me. That hurts just as much as anything. Maybe I expected her to tell me it was all a mistake, that she was only saying what she thought I wanted to hear, that she needed me.

But she let me leave. Are we broken up? I’m not even sure. I was trying to be supportive, to get her away from this mess. But if feels like something else. Like we’re done.

Taking the elevator down, I can’t look at myself in the door’s reflection. My entire body hurts, my heart screaming at me to get the hell back in that room and stake my claim.

She doesn’t need me.

She made that clear.

No one in my life has. Not my family, not Jax when he was hurting so badly he’d rather end things than reach out to me, and not Libby.

What the hell is wrong with me that I need to be needed?

By the time I reach our practice space, set up in some conference room, rage pumps through my blood. I said what I had to say to get Libby to go. Only now do I realize I’d wanted her to fight me with the same conviction she fights everything else. I wanted her to choose me. How fucking selfish is that?

I did the right thing here. She’ll be out of the tour’s harsh glare. People won’t see her as my girl, but a talent in her own right.

I plug in my guitar. I’m shaking so hard, I drop my pick twice.

“Fuck it,” I snarl.

“Someone is in a mood,” Whip says from the door. He walks in and takes a seat at his kit. “What crawled up your butt?”

“Libby isn’t going to Europe with us.”

“Why? Because of last night?” He shakes his head and taps on his cymbal. “That’s bullshit. And you’re okay with this?”

No, I’m not fucking okay. I’m barely holding it together.

“She wants it. Scottie’s taking her under his wing.” The words taste like ash in my mouth.

Whip gapes at me. “And she said this? She said, ‘Killian, I want to ditch your ass and go off with Scottie to find my fame.’”