Page 64 of Revel
“Figures.”
“We stayed together even after that, but it ate at me. I thought to myself what kind of girl stays with someone who doesn’t respect her enough to remain faithful? I mean, I get it. We weren’t married, but still, trust is everything.”
“Yet so easily destroyed.”
“People take it for granted. Do you ever feel like a puppet?” she asks.
I bump my shoulder to hers, smiling as the sky begins to lighten over the Hollywood hills. “Yeah, but I think it comes with the territory of being a performer. We’re outcasts of our own lives.”
“We’re broken and belong to everyone but ourselves,” she tells me, sighing heavily. Light hits her face.
I touch my fingers to her cheek, stroking softly. Taylan Ash isn’t beautiful. You can’t justify her beauty with a single word. If you’re going to describe her, you need to use words like intoxicating, talented, strong, determined, and yet simple… and all those things, the parts that leave me in awe that someone like her exists in the world, every single one of them,that’sthe definition of beautiful. Don’t ever think she’s just one.
And when I look at her now in the early morning light, never have I had such an image burn itself in my brain. I’ll never not think of her.
“The way the world sees you will change, but never let yourself change with the image they create for you.”
“How do you do it?”
“There’s no handbook for it, and I think I’ve done a pretty shitty job at handling it.” I push out a breath, hoping for relief, but nothing comes. I want a drink, badly. “You can’t prepare yourself for overnight fame. You grew up in it, I didn’t. I’m just a little southern rebel shit, carrying around my grandpa’s Gibson. One minute you’re a nobody and then everyone wants a piece of you. And they pry into your personal life and air your shit all over the fuckin’ place. Shit you don’t want to remember, let alone talk about. So I drink and avoid because it’s easier. That’s not dealing with it.”
“So that’s why you never talk about yourself?”
“I don’t find me that interesting. I find music interesting. But me? No.”
Reaching up, she strokes my jaw with her fingertips, mirroring my actions. “Do you think you’re broken?”
Without a doubt. I shrug, unwilling to see for myself just how deep the cracks run. Like being caught in a current, the more I fight this feeling she brings out in me, the weaker I am. “I was broken from the beginning. And I should leave you alone, but we both know I won’t.” I stare at her, and though I don’t know the expression I’m giving her, I think maybe she finally sees that I’m not who she thinks I am.
“When you look at me like that, I question your intentions.”
I stare at her innocent eyes. “If you knew what I was thinking, you certainly wouldn’t be questioning my intentions.”
We sit in silence until Red lies down, her head on my lap. All I can think about is her mouth being so close to my cock, but I push those thoughts aside when she looks up at me. Running my hand through red locks, I’m fascinated by how comfortable she seems up here, feet from the edge of a fifty-foot drop, yet careless and free. For now, away from the blinding spotlight, I can pretend this means something, but does it? Does she feel the same way?
Does it matter?
It fucking matters.
Everything inside me screams to push her away, but I’ve never been one to listen, especially to myself. That shithead never knows what he’s talking about. Sometimes even the devil inside me whispers,What the fuck are you doing?
Taking her hand in mine, I pull out a Sharpie I stole from the diner lady from my pocket and write on her palm.
So I give you these roses of revenge because I don’t know any another way.
Smiling, she pulls her hand back and reads it. “That’s beautiful. What’s it from?”
“‘Roses of Revenge.’”
“What’s that?”
“Our song.”
“Kiss me,” she whispers.
I stare at her until it hurts. “Your heart makes my favorite sound,” I tell her, just before sunrise.
AN INVITATION, SHOULD I TAKE IT.
