ook on her face, he knew.
“Tig is here.” He frowned. “I know he and your daddy have some sort of gripe. Might want to give him a heads-up.”
She stepped closer to him. “Probably should.” But she was staring around the room with wide eyes. Nervous. Beyond nervous. “Or I can text him and we can sneak out for that steak you were craving?” She faced him, smiling too bright. Something was wrong.
“Give me a sec.” He squeezed her hand. “I’ll go tell Luke.”
“I’ll go with you.” Her hands held on to his, ice-cold. “Okay? Let’s hurry.”
That was when he noticed Tig Whitman, staring their way.
Chapter 14
It had been ten years since she’d seen him. Ten years of nightmares and cold sweats, panic attacks and migraines, eating disorders and self-loathing. And he hadn’t changed one bit. He was all smiles, charm, and booming laughter.
When he wasn’t watching her.
When he was, she wanted to scrub every inch of herself clean with pure bleach.
Made worse by Becca Sinclair. How old was she? Young, that was clear. And more than a little lost.
Jace was doing his damnedest to get them out of there. Just when he’d managed to talk them out of one conversation, someone else was waiting. But they weren’t the sort of people he could brush off, either. A partner at Wheelhouse Records. Two radio music execs. Luke and a rep for some cologne company Jace was thinking of being a spokesman for.
She did her best to smile and nod and act like she was engaged in what was going on. But sweat was trickling down her back and a powerful throb had started up at the base of her neck, winding a band of tension around her head.
It didn’t matter if it was real or not; she couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.
“Good to see you, too.” He was shaking hands again, this time with a tattoo artist who admired his ink. She agreed wholeheartedly. And, right now, she needed some one-on-one time, held tight in his beautiful ink-covered arms.
“He has good taste.” She tugged on his arm. “In tattoos.”
He laughed, leading her toward the back. “Luke said they moved the truck around back. Thought we’d want a faster exit.” The hall was long, dimly lit, and lined with concert posters from the last several decades.
“I appreciate that.” She did. It was no secret that Luke wasn’t her biggest fan.
“The faster the better.” Unfortunately, he wasn’t in a hurry to get her out of there for sex. He was getting her out of there because of her initial moment of terror. As bad as it was, and it was no picnic, she was proud of how well she was holding herself together. Now.
“Are we really getting a steak?” She had to run to keep up with him. “Or are you showing me your place?”
They passed the bathroom, dodging the door as it swung open and two tipsy women stumbled out into the hall, laughing.
He glanced back at her. “I’m not sure what we’re doing.”
She frowned. “That doesn’t sound like much fun.”
“Shit.” He stopped. “He has the keys.”
“Who?”
“Luke.” He stared back at the chaos inside. He pulled out his phone from his pocket.
“He won’t hear you.” She argued. “Just go.”
He shook his head, dialing his phone. It rang and rang. “Shit,” Jace bit out. “I’m sorry.”
Being a mixed-up mess of emotions had her scrambling for control. With Jace, that was always a struggle. “You have nothing to apologize for.” She pressed a hand against his chest. “Nothing.” It was important he know that. Because, of everyone in her life, it was true.
“Krystal, are you o—”