Consumed(55)

“Because if not every man in the room that you’ve ever f*cked doesn’t throw themselves at your feet, you get all butt hurt. Because you enjoy misery. I think that’s the worse part because it reminds me of my ex-wife.”

Tears pool at the inside corners of her eyes, but I don’t buy her act for a second. “Look, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t tell me that.” I jab my finger toward the entrance of the room. Even from out here, I can see that Zoe’s not standing as close to Sinjin. That he looks like he’s just a moment away from a breakdown that would set him back months, years. “Take your destructive ass in there and tell it to him or her.”

She gives me that skittish look she gets whenever she’s confronted, and I almost think she’s going to do the right thing and speak to Sinjin to make everything right. But instead, she spins around on her heels and stalks off in the other direction toward the dressing room she used earlier tonight.

“Tell Tyler to text me when my bus is ready to roll out,” she shouts.





Sienna





“Okay, spill, how much of that shit have you done already?” My friend Ashley demands as she pops open a beer with the bottle opener on her keychain.

It’s Saturday night, and I’ve been back in Nashville since yesterday afternoon. Ashley had texted me right at 10:30—while I was in the shower—to ask if I wanted to come to karaoke night at her parents downtown bar, The Beacon. Since Gram had gone to bed an hour before, and I haven’t seen Ashley in a few weeks, I immediately accepted the invitation. After the day I’ve had, I needed to do this.

I had worked for twelve hours only to come home and find that not only had Lucas’s ex sent me a one-worded letter to my house, but I also had an email from one of my clients asking me to cancel all of her upcoming appointments indefinitely.

“Sienna?” Ashley says, bringing my thoughts away from the note and back into the crowded bar.

“How much of what shit?” I ask, mustering a teasing grin.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” When I say nothing, she groans and rests her chin on her fist. “Oh come on, don’t tell me you haven’t done any of them.”

I think of the list she gave to me before I left Nashville a few weeks ago and how many items I’ve scratched off so far. “I have about four or five to go—and no, I’m not doing a body shot off of Cal.” When Ashley’s lips purse into a thin, disappointed line, I hold out my hands in defense. “I think I’ll get through them before the tour is over. I mean, there are three weeks left. And don’t forget, they’ll be here in twelve days.”

Just as I hope, mentioning Your Toxic Sequel’s upcoming show in Nashville shifts the conversation. Ashley casts me an excited grin. “I have a countdown on my phone.” She shakes her head. “Ugh, I know. Pathetic.”

“And while they’re here, maybe you can finish up your own damn bucket list,” I add in a low voice.

Running her hands through her multi-colored hair, she rolls her eyes dramatically. “Where’s the fun in that.”

My phone buzzes in the center of the table. I flip it over to reveal a text from Lucas. I’ve been waiting for him to message me since I came home from my job, and my smile must give me away as I open it. Ashley lets out a low whistle.

“I could ask you so many questions, but you’re already bright red, so I’ll bug you more about your job today. Inquiring minds want to know, will this new reality show be worth watching? Is it the Jersey Shore of Music City?”

“It was . . . boring. Well, the job was. I’m not sure about what the show will be like.” I don’t say anything about my other client’s cancellation. I’ve been working with this woman, a politician’s wife, since I started doing wardrobe consulting here. Her email had been two lines, mostly stating that with my “other work in the public eye,” she saw it fit to discontinue her association with me.

It stung enough for me to sit staring at my computer screen for several minutes afterward.

I had started to message her back to ask if it was because of the hundreds of pictures of Lucas and me circulating the Internet, or if she took a peek into the various YTS fan sites that have smeared my name with every lie imaginable.

Like an idiot, I had taken a look at one of the websites after dinner tonight to discover that I was pregnant. I’m positive that by tomorrow morning, that will have changed, and I’ll have betrayed Lucas with a secret abortion. Or maybe the baby will turn out to be Cal’s or Sin’s.