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I’m getting pissed. Don’t they get it? I don’t care. Who do they think they’re talking to anyway?
Hunger.
I let the adrenaline flow through me. For the first time in years, I want something.
I want it, crave it more than anything.
GIA
Past – Eighteen years old
Seattle, Washington
Holy fuck, the world is spinning and my lips still tingle from his kiss. My eyes devour the tattoos on his forearms as a wave of pure excitement flutters through my body.
He’s dressed all in black. As I cling to his strong hand, a large black man in a suit shields us, making sure we aren’t mobbed. This is out of control.
I knew the Stuffed Muffins were famous, but I had no idea how monumental this truly is. They love him—no, they worship him as if he’s not human but a god who can give them eternal life. Women and men reach out to touch him as he storms past, maneuvering us out into the cool, wet night.
I take a breath, trying to get ahold of my emotions. This is happening fast. From the moment I boarded the plane and landed in Seattle, it’s been crazy. I barely had time to panic I was so excited.
Nuke was actually on time picking me up. His genuine happiness that I’m here reassured me that this is right. All of Julianna’s doubts and fears that kind of stayed with me on the plane evaporated as soon as he grabbed me and swung me around.
Nuke and I are close. He’s the only one over the years who came and visited me and my mom.
He’d show up and crash in Axel’s old room, stay for a week or so, and go back. I used to ask him why he never wanted to see Axel. He’d give me that faraway smile of his and kiss the top of my head. He’s kind, and even though he tries to act tough, Nuke has a sadness in him. No matter how much fame he gets, or how many people tell him he’s the best, he can’t seem to shake it. Deep inside something’s chasing him, and unless he deals with it, he’s never gonna find peace.
It must involve his parents and the way he grew up. He rarely mentions them, and if he does, his words are not kind. But I’ve never been around a person who craves a family more than Nuke. Unfortunately, he has a major self-destructive streak and sabotages any relationship that might bring him happiness.
Aside from some of my brother’s friends, I’ve never seen a guy have worse taste in women.
He’s beyond hot, striking, really, with pitch-black hair shaved on the sides, so you can see his tattoos. Nuke is covered in tattoos and has been getting them for as long as I can remember. As a kid, I recall thinking he looked like a beautiful painting.
He’s loyal and supportive. Again, I push aside that nagging guilt because I might have also told him there was a scholarship involved…
“I’ve got Granger.” The bodyguard talks into his earpiece, bringing me back to the now.
I’m with Rhys.
And… he wants me.
His warm hand squeezes mine, causing a small shiver that has nothing to do with the cool, misty rain, and everything to do with the electrical charge that goes through me every time Rhys touches me.
“Come here, beautiful. You’re cold.” He graces me with his famous smirk and pulls me tight into his arms.
“Christ, can I have some privacy?” He shakes his head at the horde of paparazzi screaming and taking pictures of us.
“Granger, who’s the woman? Sweetheart, look over here. What’s your name?” They’re firing questions at me so fast, even if I wanted to lift my head from Rhys’s chest to answer, it would be impossible.
A large, black SUV pulls up and another man in a suit jumps out and opens the door, and it’s like I’m in a movie or something. I slide in, glancing around at the mob forming, phones, flashing, people screaming.
Mayhem.
“Go,” Rhys orders. His strong arm reaches out to protect me from flying forward with the jerk of the SUV. The driver holds his hand on the horn. I grab Rhys’s arm and press myself against the soft, buttery seat to keep from falling forward.
“Where to, Mr. Granger?” The bodyguard turns his head.
My stomach flips. Puffing out some air, I try to stay calm. Thank God I drank that champagne and had a couple shots of some kind of exclusive liquor that tasted like candy.
“The hotel,” he says, his voice gruff. I turn to look at him in all his glory. He’s shadowed but I can still see his beautiful features. He looks different. More mature and… hard.
Confidence radiates off him as his presence commands everyone to bow and know their place. He used to be a pretty boy. Scratch that. Both he and my brother were. He’s still pretty… but now he’s almost dangerous. Goose bumps pebble my arms, which I rub to no avail.
