Take Me with You (Take Me #2)(29)

Everything was either fiery passion or icy-cold arguments. Either way, I couldn’t get my head on straight around her.

“Bro, what just happened?” Miller asked, appearing at my side.

“Honestly, I’ve no f*cking clue.”

“Why did she leave? You f*ck up?”

I nodded. “I…”

I tried to process.

“She was here with the guy who she kissed over break, and I f*cking lost it. It’s as if she’s got this goddamn vise grip on my brain, so it stops functioning when she’s around.”

“Because you love her, dipshit,” Miller said as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

“Fuck. Fuck!” I cried. “She can’t be with him.”

“Then, what are you still doing here?” Miller shoved me forward. “Go after her.”

I was running through the backstage area as soon as Miller finished his sentence. My feet pounded on the carpeted floor, out the lobby, and onto the sidewalk. I thrust my hand out into traffic to catch a passing cab with only one thought on my mind.

I have to fix this.

I have to fix this.

I have to fix this.

That motherf*cker.

I couldn’t believe he had come all the way out here without saying one word to me beforehand. I couldn’t believe he had hidden the fact that Pacific was trying to sign them. I couldn’t believe he had called me judgmental. He hadn’t even asked my opinion on it. He was too chickenshit to even find out.

I had finally confessed about kissing Henry. I’d thought everything was out in the open, but he’d been holding back.

What did all of this say about us? Were we too f*cked up to have a realistic relationship? Was I blinded by the fact that I loved him?

I felt deluded by how desperately I wanted to be with him. It shouldn’t be this hard. It shouldn’t hurt this bad. It shouldn’t feel as if he had just punched me in the gut when I could see in his face that all he’d wanted to do was hold me close.

My world had always been ruled by logic, but Grant had pushed all logic aside. In its place had grown this inexplicable fear.

Fear of losing him.

Fear of losing myself.

Fear of it all crashing down.

Fear of it not being worth it.

I was so mad at him—for everything. But I was equally mad at myself.

I slammed my finger on the elevator button and ignored the hulking presence behind me. I hadn’t even fought Henry about the cab on the way back to the hotel. Grant hadn’t tried to stop me or come after me, so what would it matter if someone else got me back to my hotel?

We stepped into the elevator, and I pressed the button for the top floor. My father had gotten me a suite, and all I could think about was tumbling headfirst into the king-sized bed and burying my heartache under a mound of pillows.

The elevator opened up onto my floor, and I found my suite number. Sliding the key card into the door, I turned the handle, flipped on the lights, and walked into the room. Henry followed right behind me inside my suite.

“What are you doing?” I demanded.

He gave me this little smile, and I had no idea what it meant, but I was sure I wasn’t going to like it. Then, he pushed past me, heading further into the hotel room and going straight toward the phone.

“Henry?”

He held the phone to his ear. “Calling for a bottle of champagne—unless you’d like something stronger?”

My mouth dropped open. “No. I don’t want anything. I want you to leave, so I can go to sleep.”

“You can’t sleep in your condition,” he said matter-of-factly, entirely ignoring the rest of my statement. “You need to wind down and relax.” He dialed the number for room service. “Yes, would you send up your best bottle of champagne and a glass of Johnnie Walker Blue?”

“Scotch and champagne?” I asked indignantly. This was not what I needed when I was pissed about Grant.

“We are celebrating, aren’t we?”

As if that was the reason he wanted me to drink.

“No. I don’t feel like celebrating.”

He sat down on the plush black leather couch in the living room and crossed his leg at the ankle. He ran one hand back through his messy dark blond hair before responding, “Then, we’ll just drink. You can close the door. Room service will knock.”

I turned away from him as I wavered with indecision. I was mad and frustrated, but my anger wasn’t directed at Henry.

I was mad at Grant. Henry was collateral damage in all of this. He was a reminder of the lengths my family would go to keep me on the straight and narrow. Even though Grant and I were…complicated, I still had no intention of making things worse by hooking up with Henry. The thought alone made my stomach turn.

With Grant…I always knew that, one day, he would get signed. ContraBand was on the rise. It made sense to me that they would try to secure a recording contract. None of this had come out of left field for me. I just hadn’t anticipated that he would sneak around behind my back about an offer.

My eyes found Henry’s blue ones once more.

Oh, right.

Henry had been my secret, one that completely fit into my perfect life where I never had to keep secrets.

While Grant was very talented and was going to be very successful, it would be doing something my parents would never approve of.