Blacklist (Beautiful Idols 2)

INTERSTATE LOVE SONG

“Thanks for letting me drive.” Ryan snuck a quick peek at Aster before directing his focus back on the road. “I just think it’s better. You seem kind of anxious.”

“Of course I’m anxious. I have good reason to be!” Aster rolled her eyes and sank low in her seat as she stared out the side window at a depressing landscape dominated by superstores, strip malls, and chain restaurants.

Beside her, Ryan fell silent, which only served to annoy Aster more. Aside from feeling anxious, she also felt jumpy, easily annoyed, and vulnerable as hell. It was the vulnerability that grated most. There was something about being alone in the car with Ryan that left her feeling like they were encapsulated together, suspended from time. The destination was confirmed, but the road between seemed malleable, theirs to define.

“Listen,” she started, not really knowing what would follow. But overcome with the need to speak from her heart and get it all out there, she forged on. “I need you to stop being so nice to me.”

There. She’d said it. And there was no missing the uncomprehending look on Ryan’s face.

“Okay, maybe that was the wrong way to phrase it.” She shook her head and tried again. “What I mean is, please stop treating me so delicately. Stop being so overly ingratiating. And stop acting like you’re afraid you might break me.”

He took a moment to digest the words, then nodded in a way so agreeable she couldn’t bring herself to rail against it, though she desperately wanted to. “Just . . . can I ask why?”

Aster frowned, crossed her arms against her chest, and silently fumed. She was mad about the kiss that didn’t happen—the kiss that almost happened—the kiss that part of her desperately wished she’d let happen—but there was no good way to share that with him. A few miles later she’d calmed down enough to reply. “Because your acting so nice makes me think it’s okay to like you.”

Her hands clenched in her lap, as she waited for him to mock her or say something sarcastic in return.

“I get it,” he said, without a trace of cynicism. “Really, I do. And unfortunately, based on my past behavior, particularly the awful things I’ve said in the press, I can’t blame you for not trusting me. But just so you know, I’m not asking you to.”

“Oh, really? Then what’s all this about?” Her hand gestured wildly around the interior of his car. “Why are you even here? Insisting on helping me when there’s so many other things you could be doing with your life!”

“This is me attempting to prove my true intentions the only way I can—through my actions. Look—” He raked a hand through his hair and worked his jaw as he collected his thoughts. “It’s like you said that night you found me at Madison’s. A verbal apology is nothing more than someone humbling themselves enough to admit they were wrong. And while it’s an important first step, it’s what follows the apology where the real work begins. I heard you, loud and clear, and I’ve been thinking about it ever since. And so, I’ve come to the conclusion that whether you like it or not, I’m going to be nice to you. And I’m going to continue to be nice to you no matter how hard you try to push me away. And I’m going to do that because I truly believe you’re a person who’s worth being nice to. And, as it happens, I’ve come to care about you a great deal. Which is why I plan to stand by your side and help you get through this mess you currently find yourself in. Then, once it’s over and done with and we’ve successfully put the whole thing behind you, we can decide how to proceed. But for now, that’s my plan—my not-so-secret agenda. My only wish at the moment is that you try to make peace with it.”

He kept his eyes on the road as Aster replayed his words. Despite doing her best to harden her heart against him, there was no doubting he’d meant what he said.

Just as there was no denying she still cared for him too.

Overcome with shyness, she closed her eyes and whispered, “Thank you.”

Then she slipped her hand over his and kept it there for the rest of the drive.

THIRTY-EIGHT

ALL THE YOUNG DUDES

“Mind telling me what the hell happened in there?” Layla took her eyes off the road long enough to glare hard at Tommy.

He fiddled with the stereo. Finally settling on an old David Bowie song, he sat back and gazed out the window contentedly. A little too contentedly, which was why Layla demanded an answer.

“I’m referring to your pissing match with Mateo. And don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. You were like a dog with a fire hydrant, and I was the one getting sprayed.”

Tommy shook his head and cringed. “Jeez, you really have a talent for visuals, you know that?” He tried to make light of it, but Layla wasn’t having it.

They’d had the whole talk. Hell, he was the one who’d insisted on it. All she’d wanted was to get between the sheets and have a little fun. And yet, despite coming to the joint conclusion that they were two more or less responsible adults acting on an undeniable attraction to each other with absolutely no expectations to follow, the second Mateo entered the scene, Tommy had started acting like a big, possessive weenie.

Considering how much effort he usually put toward maintaining his cool guy veneer, it was kind of cute to see him feeling so challenged. And yet, the last thing Layla wanted was to have to answer to someone. Especially when that particular someone had claimed less than twenty-four hours before that they weren’t looking to start a relationship.

At least when she’d said it, she’d meant it.

“So . . . what do you have to say for yourself?” She refused to let it go. “Because if you think you can avoid the subject and pretend it didn’t happen, then allow me to point out that according to the GPS, we have another hour and twenty minutes left on this journey, which may or may not provide an accurate read of unforeseen traffic patterns. Which means this may take even longer. Which also means I’ve got you captive. There’s no wriggling your way out of this one.”

“God, you’re impossible!” Tommy’s face reddened and he tossed a frustrated look her way. “You can’t let things go. You have to examine every little detail of every little thing.”

She rolled her eyes and gripped the wheel hard. “Don’t act like you didn’t know all that when you decided to sleep with me.”

Tommy groaned, knuckled his eyes, turned up the stereo, but Layla held firm.