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I stare back at Mal. "I didn't want to hurt Ethan when we broke up the first time. I didn't want to leave. He didn't give me another choice. He had nearly two years to get me back, but he never did as much as send me a text."

Mal says nothing.

"Maybe I did hurt Ethan. Maybe I destroyed him. But you know what? He destroyed me too."

Mal, that fucking asshole, just stares back at me, his deep blue eyes mysterious and impenetrable.

"I'll keep your fucking advice in mind though, Mal. I'll try not to break his heart. But why don't you warn him to be careful with my heart?"

Right on cue, there's a knock on the door. Probably Mal's fuck buddy. He gets to enjoy his casual sex without the third degree. He gets to win over a few thousand people when he steps on stage. He gets his pick of conversation, dance, or fuck partners wherever he goes after the show.

He doesn't have to deal with any of this don't break Ethan's heart bullshit.

"Yeah?" Mal calls to the door.

"You in there, Vi?" Ethan taps his fingers against the door. "Want to warm up my hands the fun way."

Mal cringes. Ah, thank goodness for minor victories.

He opens the door for Ethan. His eyes go to mine. "You're right. But think about what I said anyway."

I clench my teeth and dig my nails into my thighs. My a-line cotton skirt is thin enough it stings. Fucking asshole.

Ethan looks from Mal to me. "What'd he say?"

There's nothing but earnest affection in Ethan's blue eyes. He wants to know why I'm hurting. I want to tell him. I want to collapse in his arms and show him every place I hurt.

Hell, I want to rip open my chest, hand him my broken heart, and beg him to sew it back together.

But I can't.

He's the reason I'm suffering this third degree.

He doesn't understand that he forced me to leave. He doesn't understand that he pushed me away when I needed him to pull me closer. Until he understands that, this is staying casual. Even if that kills me.

"Vi, what did he say?" Ethan kicks the door closed and slides his arms around my waist.

"That the two of you should talk about the missing money. Mal knows where it went. He won't tell me. But he wants to talk it over with you." I fold my arms and offer Mal my sweetest fuck you smile. This is his problem now. "Don't worry. The money is back. You're on budget for the tour. And you have a lot of extra royalties coming in." I press my lips together. With my access to the books, I know Ethan's Dangerous Noise earnings, down to the penny. "You're still a multi-millionaire. I should let you two talk. I'll see you after the show." I make my way to the door.

Ethan pulls me into a tight embrace. His lips hover over my ear. "You sure that's it?"

I nod.

He drags his lips over my neck. "You owe me one, Vi. You're coming on my hands later."

God yes. I kiss him hard then I offer him my best coy smile. "I'll find a way to fit you into my schedule."

Chapter Eighteen

Violet

I want to tell Mal to go fuck himself for his presumptions, but I can't bring myself to say anything close to that.

I understand his impulse. If I could go back in time and protect Asher from all the hurt that destroyed him, I'd do it. And I certainly wouldn't let anyone get in my way.

I hang out by the stage and watch the show. It takes three songs for my thoughts to drift away. Ethan is amazing. He commands the stage as well as he commands his guitar. Every time he blows kisses to the audience, a few hundred girls scream with glee. All of them want to bring the guitarist home.

They don't get him.

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