“Four years ago today, my brother and I got the phone call that they were involved in a hit-and-run near a restaurant in Koreatown. My parents worked three jobs between them and never went out. But every wedding anniversary, Dad took Mom to an all-you-can-eat buffet to celebrate. Some psycho ran them over when they crossed the road into the reservoir to take a walk, and took off, leaving them to die. They lost their lives on their anniversary. Hence the title, deathaversary.”
We just stared at each other. I couldn’t read him, but for the first time, I didn’t care. This was my heartbreak. My pain. My life. I didn’t need to try to make it fit his. And so what if he looked tortured by my confession before darting up to his feet, walking over to the virgin mini bar across the room.
“You were…what? Seventeen?” He schooled his voice, steeled his expression, put his usual poker face back on.
“Junior in high school.” I nodded. Up until then, I’d been a straight-A student. I’d soared. I was going to ride my grades all the way to a full scholarship, but after the accident, they started slipping, fast. Partly because I needed to get a part-time job that ate into my studying hours, but mostly because I lost the drive without Mom’s support. By senior year, things got so bad, I barely graduated. I flunked Spanish and am pretty sure my English teacher took pity on me. Alex scratched his chin, downing tonic water with lime and staring out the window.
“You probably hate me a little extra for getting arrested for DUI.” He sounded like nice, normal Alex tonight.
I collected my bag and Lucas’ laptop and started for the door. If I stayed, I would tell him the truth—yes, I hated alcoholics, and I loathed people who thought it was okay to get behind the wheel when drunk and put not only themselves in danger, but innocent people walking home from their anniversary dinner. As I was heading out, Lucas was coming in. We bumped into each other, and he chuckled, running his fingers through his brown hair.
“Been looking for you.” He offered a sweet smile, his gaze jumping to Alex momentarily before landing back on me.
I handed him his laptop. “Thanks for that. You’re a lifesaver, Luc.”
“No worries. Are you feeling any better? You seemed on edge earlier in your room.” There it was again. The look he gave Alex. He was looking for…something. A reaction, maybe.
I opened my mouth, about to answer, when Alex appeared behind my shoulder. I looked up, getting a view of his chin. He was much taller than me, and although lean, packed with tons of charisma, we didn’t even look like we belonged in the same species. His fingers strangled the doorframe and his nostrils flared.
“Her room?” He rolled the last word on his tongue like it was a curse. “What business did you have being in her room?”
Lucas cocked his head, confusion marring his features.
“She asked me to lend her my laptop.”
“Could’ve stayed in the hallway. No, wait. That’s a foreign concept, right, Waitrose? Talking to a girl without monopolizing her life, time, and space,” Alex retorted.
I was sandwiched between them, my back to Alex, my face to Lucas, feeling hot, and not just from blushing. Both men released enough heat from their bodies to fry a steak, and it was wrong, especially considering the poor timing, but my pulse throbbed in my neck with arousal.
“Oh, that’s rich, Winslow. If your cock had an autobiography, it’d be thicker than Bill Gates’.” Luc kept his voice light but his intent heavy, offering me his open palm.
My eyes widened in disbelief. This was a blunt provocation, and they both knew that. I sidestepped, my back to the wall. They stared me down, waiting for me to say something. Lucas’ hand was still open, but not at all inviting. Alex pushed it away, making Luc’s arm dangle beside his body. He got into his drummer’s face, and before I knew what was happening, Lucas was glued against the wall beside me, the fabric of his damp shirt gathered in Alex’s fist. They were nose-to-nose now. There was no mistaking the bad blood that ran between them, because it was thick and angry like a river.
“Let’s get one thing straight—this girl was not hired as a parking space for your dick. She is my assistant. She takes care of me, caters to me, answers me, and only me. This means if I ever catch you in her room again—and I’m planning to keep a closer look now, Waitrose—I will throw you off the tour without even batting an eyelash. Don’t forget you’re just a fucking drummer. Any roadie with two sticks can replace you.”
My heart was in my throat. For all the evil Alex Winslow exhibited whenever I was involved, he’d never spoken to any of his friends like this in front of me. Lucas pushed Alex away, causing the rock star to slam against the opposite wall.