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Trent places his hands on his hips and watches me carefully. “Okay, then what’s the problem?”
I inhale deeply and then blow out a heavy breath, wanting to tell him everything but also afraid to be vulnerable. I shouldn’t still be afraid after we just said “I love you” for the first time, but I’ve also never been as open with a boyfriend as I am with Trent.
Everything’s different with Trent.
“Elise found our dad, and I think maybe I need some closure with him so I don’t end up ruining this,” I say, gesturing between us.
His gaze softens, and he walks toward me until I’m wrapped in his arms, my head resting on his chest where I can hear the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath his clothes. “You aren’t going to ruin this or run me off. Trust me, I’m not going anywhere, except on tour in the future, but I’m not letting you go again, got it?”
I nod and wrap my arms around his hips, not ready for him to pull away, wishing I was as confident in myself as he is.
With one more tender kiss, I let him go and walk with him to my door. He gives my hand a squeeze before he opens the door, and I lean against the doorjamb watching his sexy ass strut down the hall, my heart fluttering with the knowledge that he is all mine. It’s when I turn to go back to my office that familiar brown eyes meet mine before glancing behind me where I know Trent is still likely visible. Brad’s coffee-colored gaze shoots back to mine, a question in his eyes that I refuse to acknowledge, instead going into my office and closing the door.
My hope that he’ll ignore what he thinks he saw quickly evaporates when he knocks once on my door and then opens it before I’ve even told him he can come in.
I turn on my heels and cross my arms, glaring at him for his arrogance of storming into my office without an invitation.
“I have work to do. What do you want?” My voice could freeze the Pacific Ocean with the arctic chill it’s giving off.
Clearly unfazed, he puts on a small smile, the same one that used to endear him to me. “We haven’t talked in a while. How are you?”
My glare sharpens. We both know what he saw—Trent coming out of my office looking not quite as put-together as he was when he walked in—so I’m not sure what game he’s playing at here.
Instead of taking my silence as a sign he should get out, he takes a step closer, his expression turning serious. “Becka, I know I messed things up with how I handled our breakup and not warning you about my engagement to Shelly. It was unexpected, to me more than anyone. But I still care about you.”
I fight back the eye roll that I want to let loose.
Undeterred, he continues. “You should be careful with him.”
My blood boils. How fucking dare he! “Excuse me,” I say, my voice ice while my skin feels like it’s on fire. Who the hell does he think he is?
“Have you watched the cut footage of the RI documentary?”
“Why would I? I only watch what goes out for publicity purposes.”
He nods like that’s what he suspected. “I think you need to see something.” He turns and heads to my door, halfway out before he realizes I’m not following him.
“Becka?”
“I have no desire to see anything you have to show me. You can close the door.”
His eyebrows furrow in confusion and then consternation. “Now you’re just being stubborn. I’m telling you that guy can’t be trusted. I saw the footage from the tour.Allthe footage. Trust me, there’s definitely something you’re going to want to see.”
Walking to my door, I grab the handle. “I don’t trust you and haven’t for a long time. Don’t bother coming back to my office. You have nothing I want.” Then, I slam the door in his shocked face, vindication thrumming through my veins.
But an hour later, that vindication evaporates when Brad sends me an email with footage attached and one sentence.Trust me or don’t, but you deserve to know.
Doubt niggles the back of my mind, and before I can talk myself out of it, I press play and feel the metaphorical rug get ripped out from under me.
31
I’ve spent the last several days in a daze, throwing myself into work until my eyes felt like sand and my eyelids were so heavy that I had no other choice but to fall asleep the second my head hit the pillow.
But tonight’s the documentary premiere, and I won’t be able to avoid him for much longer.
I’ve had that damn video burned into my brain since I watched it. Women throwing their panties at the band, then draping themselves all over the guys backstage. While Trent wasn’t in too much of that specific footage, there was plenty of footage of gorgeous woman after gorgeous woman flirting with him backstage and asking him to sign their cleavage during VIP meet and greets.
It’s one thing to think you know what goes on during tour—it’s a whole other story actually seeing it.
