Hard as Rock (The Rock Star's Seduction 3)

“I – I – I haven’t written it yet,” I managed to get out.

“Okay… so, take a week or two, and you can – ”

“I c-can’t – I can’t – I can’t write it, a-all I’ll be able to think about is him,” I said, and then I burst into tears, my entire body shaking.

Ryan crossed over to me in two strides and pulled me close to his chest. “Shhh. Shhh. It’s going to be okay.”

“N-no it’s not… Glen’s already m-mad at me and n-now I can’t even write any more and I owe him so much money – ”

“He’ll understand.”

“No he won’t! He’s an asshole, but he’s right – I’m not being a professional, I-I’m scared, and I can’t write it, and I’m n-never going to be a writer – ”

“Yes you are. Yes, you are,” he whispered to me as he held me against his body.

“I j-just fucked up the biggest break I’ll ever have – ”

“It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay.”

No it’s not, it’s NEVER going to be okay!

I wanted to scream, but instead I just cried – not about the article anymore, but about the man I had loved lying to me, and cheating on me, and destroying any chance at happiness I would ever have again.

7

After a few minutes I calmed down. Ryan sat me down on the bed, then went to get me a glass of water. I covered my bare legs with my bed sheets, then took the water gratefully.

He pulled up one of the wooden chairs and sat in it a few feet away from me. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” I sighed wearily. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to freak out on you like that.”

“It’s okay.”

I kept sipping the water and staring dully at the dirty linoleum floor.

There was a dead roach lying feet-up on his back. Next to him was a dust bunny the size of a mouse. Paint chips the size of quarters lying on the ground. And a wall that looked like somebody had raked the claw of a hammer over it.

And no matter how ugly my surroundings were… my interior world was worse.

My life was shit.

In the course of 24 hours, everything –

everything

– had turned to shit.

“Kaitlyn,” Ryan said softly.

I looked over at him, moving slow and robot-like.

“Come back with me to South Dakota.”

At first his words didn’t register. When they finally did, my eyebrows raised slowly and my eyes widened.

“…what?”

“Come back with me to South Dakota.”

All I could hear, though, was,

Derek wasn’t the only one who fell for you years ago.

“I… I can’t,” I whispered.

He smiled. He knew exactly what I was thinking.

It was a little unsettling how he could do that.

“I’m not asking you because I’m trying to sweep you off and carry you away and make you fall in love with me,” he said, and the smile was absolutely genuine. It let me know he was serious, and that he wasn’t lying, and that it was a little goofy for me to think that. Then the smile faded, and he was serious again. “I’m asking because I care about you, and I don’t want to think of you in this apartment for the next three months, tortured and alone and trying to finish some goddamn article that rips your heart out with every word you write.”

I murmured aloud, “Wow, you’re serious.” It was involuntary – it just came out of me.

“Of course I’m serious.”

“No, I mean… you cussed. You only do that when you’re serious.”

He stared at me in surprise – and then burst out laughing.

I laughed, too. I couldn’t help myself. It felt so nice… another brief reprieve from my prison of misery.

“I guess I did,” he conceded, smiling. “So I guess I am.”

“Thank you… I really appreciate you asking. But… I can’t.”

He looked at me intently. “Because I told you I fell in love with you four years ago?”

BAM. Just like that. No pussyfooting around.

I swallowed hard. Then I nodded ‘yes.’

He nodded slightly, like,

Yeah, I was expecting that.

He paused, as though gathering his thoughts… and then he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet.

I thought he was going to try and give me money. I was about to protest, but instead he fished inside one of the side pockets and pulled out a business card.

“You got a Sharpie?” he asked.

“A… a what?”

“One of those indelible ink pens. If you don’t have that, a regular pen will do.”

“Um… hold on,” I said, bewildered, and got up to go rummage in my kitchen.

I came back with a black pen and handed it to him. He nodded and started to write something on the back of the business card.

“You ever see that