The Spiral Down (The Fall Up #2)(60)

“Henry!” I called, but he was out the door and jogging down my driveway before I could stop him.

His car wasn’t out front anymore, but he didn’t slow as he rounded the corner onto the main street.

“Shit,” I cursed, rushing back inside to grab my shirt and my keys before taking off after him barefoot.





There was no reason why I should have been gutted. Deep down I had always known there was something different about Evan. Denial was a cruel bitch like that. The signs had been there. I mean, I was good, but it usually took more than one night to get a man into my bed—or, in our case, my shower. And, as soon as I had thrown down the gauntlet and let him know I wanted something serious, he hadn’t hesitated in picking it up.

But I liked him, so I was blinded by hope. I was willing to pretend that I was irresistible to him, because God knows he was to me.

Aimlessly, I was wandering down a street in his neighborhood when my phone started ringing the theme song to Transformers. I didn’t even retrieve it from my pocket. I had no words left for him.

I was famous beyond my wildest fantasy, but somehow, after years of working my ass off, I was still alone. And I was walking away from the best thing I’d ever had because I feared he could never love me the way I knew I would—and probably already did—love him. Even I could see the ridiculousness of the situation. I should have been stoked beyond all reason that the man I so desperately wanted to be with wanted to be with me too. And we didn’t have the impossible hurdle of his sexuality to overcome.

We could just be together.

But that knowledge didn’t slow the anguish growing in the pit of my stomach.

It was four in the morning and Evan’s cozy neighborhood was still fast asleep. So, when I felt the high beams on my back, there was only one person it could be.

Quickly ducking around the side of a corner house, I watched his SUV fly past. What was I doing? Well, besides being minutes away from being arrested for trespassing.

The hammering in my chest told me to go back to his house.

To talk to him.

To get over myself and follow my heart for once.

Nothing had changed. He was still the same man who made me want to settle down and be more than just Henry Alexander—recording artist, celebrity, star. With Evan, I saw more than stages, screaming fans, and casual encounters. It was the first time I had ever seen picket fences, family, and a future.

But the nagging in my head told me that it was all too far out of reach.

In the end, it was that voice that won out.

I didn’t go back to Evan’s house.

But I didn’t go home, either.





THE DOG BARKED as I used my key to let myself in. Soon enough, he was wagging his tail and welcoming me back. It had been a while since I’d been there, but when faced with the need to forget the madness brewing in my head, there was only one place I could go.

After turning the security alarm off, I silently made my way to the bedroom. Not even the moon peeked through the window, but I was able to make out his solid body sleeping soundly under the covers.

Unable to resist myself, I toed my shoes off, climbed into the middle of the king-size bed, and draped my arm around his stomach as I spooned up behind him.

“Mmm,” he purred, shifting back against me. His hand slipped back over my ass, squeezing before he drifted to sleep again.

I chuckled, nuzzling into the back of his hair. “See? I knew I could turn you.”

His body went solid just before I caught a hard elbow to the stomach. “What the…” he yelled, scrambling off the bed.

I hadn’t even had the chance to defend myself before his hand was at my throat.

“Stop. It’s just me!” I croaked through the pressure, the light thankfully clicking on to illuminate the room, revealing his fist reared back and aimed directly at my face.

“Henry?” Levee said sleepily from the other side of the bed.

With my hands up in surrender, I repeated to both of them, “It’s just me.”

I held Sam’s gaze as recognition hit his face.

“Jesus, f*ck, man!” he shouted, but his hand fell away from my throat.

“What are you doing here?” Levee asked, groaning as she heaved her round stomach over so she could cuddle into my side.

Sam marched to the dresser and pulled a T-shirt on, mumbling curse words under his breath.

“Sorry. I didn’t know where else to go.” I kissed her forehead.

“I can tell you a few places to go,” Sam sniped.

“Do any of them involve you grabbing my ass again? Because, if so, I’m there.”

Levee giggled. “You grabbed his ass?”

I nodded and waggled my eyebrows suggestively while Sam stood at the foot of the bed, fuming.

“I thought it was you!” he defended, raking a hand through his hair. “Jesus, you scared the shit out of me.”

“You should probably keep an eye on that one,” I told Levee. “He obviously has some latent tendencies hidden beneath all those tattoos.”

“Oh, f*ck you,” he retorted, but he did it while motioning for me to scoot over so he could get back in bed.

I climbed over Levee and got comfortable on one of her down pillows. Before Sam had come along, lounging in bed together was a nightly occurrence for us. I missed it a lot. But, as she rested her head on my chest, I would have given anything for it to have been Evan instead.