“Jace—”
But he’s already on his feet, stumbling out of my room to the bathroom.
I follow without hesitation, dropping down beside him the second he hits the floor and starts heaving into the toilet. I don’t know if it’s from the drugs or fromthis. From the guilt, the panic, the sheer emotional overload. But it doesn’t really matter.
Itdoesn’t.
Because the anger I still had, the remnants of betrayal clinging to my chest, it all shifts to that vile shit Mick when I see him break down like that. Jace didn’t want this.
“I’m here,” I mumble, crouched next to him. “I’m here, Jace. I’m not going anywhere, promise. Calm down.”
I rub his back. Long, steady circles, part of me so relieved and happy that he’s in my arms again, even though this sucks like hell. I rub and hold him against me until nothing comes out anymore. Until his body stops shaking. Until I stop shaking and can flush the damn toilet.
We lean back, and he drops his face in my chest, holding on to me as tight as he can. “Just hold me close and tell me everything will be okay,” he croaks, voice wrecked and barely there.
And I nod. I nod and nod and nod as I hold him to me, telling him itisgoing to be okay. Because how the fuck can Inottell him that? How can I blame this on him, when it’s so fucking clear to me that he’s not at fault? When Iknowhe tried to stop it. When I can feel it in every fucking fiber of my very fucking being.
It doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt like a son of a bitch. It doesn’t mean that I don’t have the right to be angry, because I think I fucking do.
It’s beenmonthsof this bullshit, and I’ve kept my cool, kept my mouth shut about everything Mick-related. The innuendos, the duets, the morning runs. All because I didn’t want to risk Jace’s career, because the label pushed for it. But I’m so fucking done.
Jace has been nothing but honest with me, and this is not on him.
Because that stupid part of me, that rational, logical,stupidpart that’s just entirely me.That ismedown to my fucking core,understands. I understand why he didn’t push right away. Why he fucking froze. Ifucking understand.
But I’m still going to beat Mick’s ass into the goddamn ground.
“You’re not breaking up with me?” It’s barely more than a whisper, so soft I almost miss it.
I exhale hard, hugging him tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of his clammy head. “Of course not,” I murmur into his hair. “Jesus, Jace. You think I’d let one unwanted kiss undo us?”
He lets out this broken, watery breath full of relief and clutches my hoodie like he’s afraid I’ll vanish if he loosens his grip.
“I still love you,” I add quietly, because I know he needs to hear it, and I need to say it. “That hasn’t changed. It’s never going to.”
“I love you too,” he breathes. “So fucking goddamn much. I was so scared I ruined it. Fuck, it’s unreal how much I love you. You’re everything.”
The words hug my heart. I brush my lips against his temple. “You didn’t ruin it. You came here right away. He pushed you into a corner you couldn’t escape from. You didn’t want this. That’s what matters.”
He nods, barely.
“You still doing the concert in LA?”
He nods again, slow and hesitant. His breath is still stuttering, shallow and uneven. “I have a contract,” he whispers. “But I don’t want to go.”
“Oh, you’re going,” I say, my voice a low, deadly calm. “And I’m going, too.”
He doesn’t ask why. Maybe because he already knows.
I’m going to be there, front and center. And if Mick eventhinksabout pulling that shit again, I’ll end his fucking careerandhis face before he finishes his first verse. Contract or no contract.
I help him up once he stops shaking, my hand firm around his wrist. He looks pale, shaky as hell, but he nods when I tug gently.
“Come on,” I murmur. “Let’s go back to my room.”
He follows without a word, like his whole body’s on autopilot now. But the second we step into the hallway, I stop short and wince. “Uh, brush your teeth first?”
Jace blinks at me.
