Series: Cobalt Empire Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 220
Estimated words: 215301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1077(@200wpm)___ 861(@250wpm)___ 718(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 215301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1077(@200wpm)___ 861(@250wpm)___ 718(@300wpm)
“Later, if we get through a tour, yeah,” Phoenix interjects. “I remember our deal.” He shifts his weight, glances left and right, then pins his harsh gaze to mine. “Look, I’m going to need you to break it, and I know it’s not fucking fair to you, but I’m going out of my mind right now.”
Beneath his impatience, all I see is his concern, and I want it badly, even if it’s unwarranted. “It’s not as terrible as what you’re picturing.”
Phoenix motions with his hands like hurry. “I need more than that.”
My lips quirk. “Has anyone ever told you to stop and smell the roses?”
“Unless you’re going to throw a rose at me, I will happily rush you along, nepo baby.”
I shake my head, mostly at myself as my face contorts. “I’m not weak, dude.” I need him to know this. “You don’t think I can defend myself?”
He holds my gaze in a vise. “Coming from someone who has a brother almost your exact age, I think you have three older brothers who’ve probably defended you your whole life.”
“True,” I admit. “But if someone tries to get physical with me, I don’t just cower and hide.”
“He got physical with you.” His eyes flash up-down my body, and his jaw muscle tics harder.
I’d care just as much if I heard someone put their hands on my drummer, so I don’t know why I’m surprised at the level of Phoenix’s ire. “I might’ve deserved it.”
He’s pacing. “Don’t ever say that to me again.”
“You don’t even know what I did.”
He stops to look at me. “You think I don’t know how you are? You fixate on tempo changes. You obsess over the emotion behind the bridge to the final chorus. You want the climax to hit just right—because if it doesn’t, then what’s the point? What’s the fucking point if no one feels completely undone by the end?” He takes a molten step closer. “You are an impossible, agitating, terrifyingly beautiful perfectionist.”
This might be the most out-of-body experience I’ve ever had. Because it feels like he’s up against me, but he’s halted a few inches away.
His eyes fall to my lips. I shake my head stiffly, my gaze burning as I refuse to meet the overwhelming temptation of him. Something inside me is screaming for the hazardous collision. For his strong, masculine hands to frame my face. For his mouth to crush against mine. I wonder how it’d feel to be close enough for his heart to drum ceaselessly against my body.
I hate how much I want all of that.
Phoenix weaves his arms over his taut chest. “Whatever the fuck he did to you—it wasn’t deserved.” He rocks toward me on his feet. “And this is where you give me details.”
Holy shit, I was not prepared to rehash the most humiliating moment of my life today. I rotate a little away from him to gather the nerve.
When I turn back, Phoenix looks like a four-wheeler has run over him now. “Tom.” I wish he’d been there that day.
It’s a sudden, choking thought. It pushes me a few steps backward. Why would I want Phoenix there to witness my ego being shredded alive? Something I bet he’s wanted to do himself.
Maybe that’s it.
Maybe I’d just prefer to be humbled by him, if given the choice.
Maybe.
Phoenix drops into a deep squat. He’s digging his fingers into his forehead. Then he rises and spins on me to say, “Put me out of my fucking misery, I’m begging you.” His brows hike. “Or do you like me like this? You want me tortured over you?”
I wonder what it says about me—that I don’t hate it. “Thanks for caring, Phoenix Wolfgang St. Pierre, but it’s not like Warner beat the shit out of me. In fact, I would’ve rather he privately broke my jaw than doing what he did.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Yeah, I do.” I put my hands to my chest. “I’ve never felt…I’ve never been so…” Fuck me. I glare up at the ceiling. “Don’t laugh.”
“Man, if you think I’m about to laugh right now, you are delusional.”
I smile back down at the floor, then I’m wincing. “He threw a microphone at my face during a recording session. And the stand. Oh, and there was that cute part where he spit on me. My only defense is that we sounded like a pack of dying hyenas, and I wanted to do another take. I think all his frustrations just exploded that time, and he was done with me.” I lift my shoulders. “My first black eye. So I guess there’s that achievement.”
Phoenix hasn’t cooled off. After one deep breath, he says, “Fuck it.” He closes the distance between us in two strides, and I don’t reject the incoming danger.
Not when his arms wrap around my shoulders. He pulls me into a steel-fortified hug that has me grinning like a fucking idiot. I’m so glad he doesn’t kiss me. It’s my second thought. This is better. This won’t jeopardize us finishing the album.