As they locked eyes, he slowly released her arm, and she regained some control over the tirade of emotions swirling through her body. “Why do you want me to stay?” she asked.
“Because we never get to spend one-on-one time together and we may never get the chance again. I don’t want you to run out of here after the show before we get a chance to talk.”
“What do you want to talk about?”
“Us.”
“Us?” She didnotwant to have this conversation—ever—but, apparently, it was happening. Right now. In a room filled with the media. Taking a moment to slowly blink and closing her eyes longer than necessary, she said, “There is no ‘us,’ Dillon. We had one drunken night together. That’s all there is to it.”
“Is it? Is that really all there is to it?”
His intense black eyes taunted her, and, for once, she had no comeback. No smart-ass remark came to mind. No sarcastic reply. Not even a calm rational answer. Her mind was blank, and the only thing she could think about was the way she was struggling to breathe, as if there weren’t enough air in the room.
“It’s OK. You don’t have to say anything.” His lips pulled back into a lopsided smile. “Your eyes are telling me everything I want to know.”
She held her breath.
“Do you want to know what I see in them?”
She didn’t move.
He leaned in, looking deep into her eyes, stopping with only inches between them, and said, in a long, drawn-out whisper, “Fire.”
All the air left her lungs at once, and it blew a tuft of his long hair away from his face.
He let out a short, sexy chuckle, while her face burned red hot.
Flustered and uncomfortable with her reaction, shebolted out of the room. Her quick departure, as if the building were about to burst into flames, caught the attention of a few photographers, who temporarily blinded her with camera flashes on the way out, and she brushed past more than one journalist calling her name. Sure, now that there seemed to be an incident, they wanted to talk to her. Fuck them.
She tugged on the roots of her hair as she raced down the corridor back to her dressing room but slowed when she spotted the room Walter was using as an office. She decided she wanted her own flight home. There was no way she was sitting on a plane with Dillon.
She knocked, but no one answered. Walter probably couldn’t hear her over the music that was playing behind the closed door, so she tried the handle. It was unlocked, and she slowly pushed the door open.
The first thing she saw were two blondes, naked from the waist up, sitting on the couch. Sid sat between them, leaning over the glass coffee table with a mountain of cocaine in the center, snorting lines. Because what else would he be doing before a show when they were supposed to be at a sendoff with the press?
A wave of disgust burned the back of Lizzy’s throat like acid, and anger made her spine rigid. Walter was behind this, feeding Sid drugs and women. He was probably in the other room having his own celebration.
She watched Sid snort another healthy amount of cocaine, bring his hand to his nose while he breathed in deeply, and his eyes fluttered under his lids.
“Nice,” she said sarcastically. “Real fucking nice. You’re getting high right before our last show?”
His eyes came into focus. “What the fuck are you doing here? This is a private party.”
He sat back on the couch, and that’s when she saw the brunette between his legs, bobbing her head in his lap and sucking him off. The brunette wiped her mouth as she stood up and turned toward Lizzy. She was totally naked and shaved clean, without a stitch of hair between her legs.
“Oh my God,” Lizzy said, disgusted, and averted her eyes. But she really wasn’t surprised because this wasn’t the first time she walked in on something like this.
When the brunette gave Lizzy a provocative smile and started walking toward her, Sid, clearly annoyed that his plaything abandoned him to talk to Lizzy, sneered at the girl. “Where do you think you’re going? You’re not finished.”
The brunette ignored him, so he put his arm behind the blonde to his right and pushed her head down between his legs, and she seamlessly took over.
Lizzy huffed and turned away, about to leave, but the brunette called her.
“Don’t go, Lizzy.” She ran to the door, causing her giant fake boobs to bounce on her chest. “Come inside and join us. Or let me come back to your room. We can have our own little private party. Just me and you.”
A huge smile spread across Lizzy’s face because she would love nothing more than to steal one of Sid’s whores away from him. But chicks weren’t her thing. “Sorry, doll. I’m strictly a meat and potatoeskinda girl.”
The brunette pouted with an exaggerated puffy lower lip.
