Page 129 of Pink

TWENTY-FIVE

GIGI WAS seconds away from a nervous breakdown. Lev could tell, and he didn’t need her to say it to confirm his suspicions, either. He imagined this wasn’t the first time she had been put under an immense amount of pressure and stress.

Her entire career was pressure and stress.

He didn’t think for a second that she had been put in the kind of situation she was currently facing, however, and it showed. He doubted she wanted that which was why he suggested—or demanded, rather—the bedroom for privacy if she wanted to scream her feelings out at him.

She was due.

He wouldn’t deny it.

The second the French doors closed behind them, everything Gigi had been trying to hide came spilling out of her like a tornado intent on destruction. He couldn’t remember seeing her so angry before. Not mad enough to rip a framed picture from the wall. Or to sweep the bottles of perfume and decorations from the dresser.

She moved from one thing to the next. Yanked sheets from the bed. Kicked a purse across the room. Screamed into her fists until she was gasping for air.

Again and again, until the floor became a wasteland of her pain and rage, and there was nothing left for her to destroy. All the while, Lev stood back in the corner, silent until she finally came to a stop in the middle of the room where, without warning, she dropped to the floor.

Sitting cross-legged on the silver blanket with black detailing that she’d ripped from the bed, Gigi’s shoulders heaved as her panting breaths turned to aching sobs. Each one sent a splinter straight into Lev’s heart, cracking the organ open until it felt like he was bleeding pain and regret into his chest cavity with every beat.

He didn’t think she wanted him near her.

He also couldn’t stop himself.

Crossing the floor before he could convince himself that it was a bad idea, Lev kneeled down to get Gigi’s tear-streaked face in his hands. One cupped her cheek, the other rested on top of the pulse point in her throat where he could feel her heart racing like the wings of a hummingbird. She stared up at him, still so hesitant, her silk letterman jacket vibrating from how she still shook like a little leaf. The light from the window filtered through the crack in the gray shades, spilling through the room to color the space in soft tones that belied the destruction around them.

For a second, it was just him and her.

Nothing else.

“Where were you?” she asked, chin quivering.

“I’m sorry.” He wanted to say that first. She deserved to hear it more than anything else he had to say. “Did you see the hoard of paparazzi outside the hospital while you were there?”

The confusion in her stare said she didn’t. Frankly, the updates he had received from her guards were enough to know, for the most part, Gigi hadn’t been clued into the reality around her for the last couple of days. She was just … doing what she had to.

Very little else.

“I had to get Arely out of town,” he explained, “and by the time I got back, the media was a fucking circus all over the city. I was being followed. News reports were blasted about it. It’s not just tabloids this time, babe. There’s too much attention. Police pulled in every made man they could for interviews all over the city. I would have only made it worse coming and going so I laid low until things were a little better.”

But not by fucking much.

Outside The Plaza was a goddamn shitshow of photographers and fans waiting behind metal barriers the police had needed to come and set up. He managed to sneak in through a side entrance when an enforcer came down to let him in, but he doubted his escape would be as clean. Not that it mattered. He needed to be here.

“You didn’t even call,” she whispered, her voice breaking at the end. “Just a stupid text that didn’t tell me anything, Lev.”

Leaning down lower, his palms slipped under her jaw to tip her head higher. His mouth pressed to her trembling lips, tasting the salt of her tears while his thumbs dragged soothing lines back and forth across her silken skin. He was patient, each caress of his lips across hers encouraging and tender until she was finally kissing him back. He didn’t pull away until she was gasping for breath all over again.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured against her lips.

A hiccup answered him back.

His poor girl.

She seemed so strong.

She was.

Sometimes, she was also so very weak. He didn’t mind being the person who gave her the safe space to show that weakness, though. The rest of the world could see what they wanted from Gigi Rey but to him … he would hold together the pieces of what was left.