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Oh god.
“Penn,” I whisper, my voice trembling with the force it’s taking to hold back my tears.
He lets out a long, ragged breath. “I didn’t come to your show because I had to work, Daisy. No other reason.”
He’s a liar.
I hit end on the call and toss it at the end of the mattress before my eyes flutter shut and darkness comes.
Chapter Two
Penn
When I get back from LA, I’m not entirely surprised to find Phillip Lowell leaning against the door to my studio, waiting for me. I’ve known the guy since we were kids when my mother worked as a housekeeper for his family.
I was there when he landed his first record contract, when his girlfriend got pregnant, when Daisy was born, and in every crisis or triumph since. He’s like a brother to me, and one look at him is enough to make the guilt that’s gripped me since Daisy’s phone call tighten sickeningly.
Guilt for not going to her show.
Guilt for what I said.
Guilt for my attraction to her.
Guilt for betraying the trust of my oldest friendbecause I havebetrayed his trust now. I finally did it, crossed that clear-as-day line between how I should behave with Daisy and how I actually want to.
I can’t look Phillip in the eye. I imagine he probably thinks I’m ashamed for letting work get the better of me and neglecting our friendship.
He’s always been like that, a good person, a good friend, always ready to believe the best of me.
How would he feel if he knew the truth? That I’ve been beating my cock to the memory of his daughter moaning my name since that call nearly two weeks ago.
Who am I kidding?
I’ve been beating my cock to thoughts of his daughter since she came home for summer break after her sophomore year of college. Things were normal before that, comfortable. Then she walked into the kitchen wearing a crop top and cut-off shorts, and my life as I knew it was over.
I’m an adult man and enjoy sex, but never in my life has my body reacted that way to a woman. This wasn’t just some passing attraction or lust.
I didn’t just want to fuck her, I wanted to claim her.
All of her.
I was damn near feral and couldn’t do anything about it. I’llneverbe able to do a thing about it, so I did the only thing I could. Run.
Two years of careful avoidance, two years of pushing away the two most important people in my life because I couldn’t keep my dick under control, and now I’m paying the price.
Phillip follows me inside, and I drop my shit on the workbench, not quite able to meet his eye.
“I’m sorry,” I say without preamble, not bothering to pretend I don’t know why he’s here. “Seriously. I’ll call her, make it up to her.”
Just for something to do, I snag a box cutter to open the stack of mail and packages, which have grown to an alarming height. I still haven’t gotten around to replacing my assistant, who left nearly three months ago, and the situation is growing dire.
“She’s hurt.”
I freeze, my hands gripping the edge of the table as I fight to maintain composure. Two words, and it’s like he’s taken a carving knife to the still-fresh wound Daisy’s call inflicted on me.
“That wasn’t my intention.”
Phillip heaves a sigh and moves past me to examine the massive canvas of dark oil paint in the center of the floor. He glances over his shoulder at me. “I’m worried about her. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to put this on you.”
