Idol (VIP, #1)(76)

Killian sucks in a sharp breath and lets it out slowly. “I’m not gonna hit you,” he finally says. “You deserve it. But I’m not. Get this now. That is the last time you disrespect Libby. You got me?”

Jax glances at me, and for a second I see a wince of regret, then it’s gone. “You disrespected yourself,” he says, “hiding and pretending this was about performing.”

“You’re right,” I say before Killian can respond. “Which is why I’m no longer hiding.”

“But you’re still going to pretend like you belong here?”

Okay, that hurt.

Killian snarls, taking a step toward Jax. “What the f*ck is your problem?”

“My problem? You f*cking lied. To all of us.”

“Dude,” Rye says, shaking his head at Jax. “It was obvious they were together.”

“Seriously. Take your head out of your ass, man,” Whip adds, giving Killian a cheeky smile. “I knew he was gone on her the moment he started waxing lyrical about her voice. And it’s not like they’re very good at hiding those moony looks they keep throwing each other.”

Killian’s eyes narrow. “You knew and you were going to ask her out?”

“Naw, I was just f*cking with you, Big K. You should have seen your face. I thought you were going to bust something.” Whip laughs.

“I was about to bust your face,” Killian mutters, but he doesn’t look truly pissed. Not at Whip, anyway. He sets his attention back on Jax. “You used to be better than this.”

“And you used to be straight with me.”

Killian’s brows lift. “You get the hypocrisy you’re throwing my way, right?”

The corners of Jax’s mouth go white. “Nice.”

“Jax,” Whip begins, but Jax gives him a quelling look.

“We didn’t need this bullshit right now,” Jax says. He walks off without another word.





Chapter Twenty-Three





Killian



“Libs?” My voice is barely above a whisper in the dark hotel bedroom.

Hers comes back just as soft. “Yeah?”

“When I told you I’d never had a girlfriend, it wasn’t to score points. It was a warning.”

Sheets rustle as she lifts up on her elbow. The soft fall of her hair slides over her shoulder, the silky tips tickling my arm. “Warning?”

I roll on my side and pick up a lock of her hair. “That I have no idea what I’m doing. That I’ll probably do stupid shit.”

“Killian, what the hell are you talking about?” She doesn’t sound annoyed, more amused.

My eyes have adjusted to the dark enough that I can make out her features. Naked and mussed after hours of sex, she’s also so beautiful, I’m having a hard time concentrating. But her brows lift a little as if to prompt me to speak.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her.

“Sorry? Why?” She shakes her head. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I hurt you. And it hurts me too.”

I’m pretty sure if I kiss her now, I’m not going to stop. So I give the ends of her hair a gentle tug in acknowledgment. “Same goes, baby doll.” A sigh escapes me before I can rein it in. “You were right. I push too hard to get what I believe is best, and I don’t think things through. Tonight was a shit show. Just as you predicted.”

Already, the press is going crazy. I haven’t told her about the social media frenzy and the way the world is now demanding our story—and to know everything about her. I don’t want that nonsense invading this space.

She doesn’t say anything for a second, then her warm palm finds my chest. I close my eyes as she smooths her hand over my skin. “We were both wrong. And both right.”

I blow out a breath and look up at her. “I’m going to have Brenna put out a statement that we fell for each other during the tour, and that’s all we’re giving them.”

Libby’s brows draw together. “Why?”

“Because your happiness is more important to me than anything else.” A dark, ugly slide of regret goes down my insides. “And I’ll be damned if anyone treats you the way Jax did tonight. I’m sorry about that too, Libs. So f*cking sorry.”

Her hand slides up to my neck as she leans down and kisses my chest, right over my heart. Soft lips brush over my nipple before her little teeth nip it. My abs tighten in response, and a familiar heat surges up my tired, but clearly still eager, cock. Libby gives me one more tender kiss, then braces her arms on my chest. “Promise me something.”

“Anything.” My arms come around her waist, tugging her closer.

She smiles. “You might regret answering so easily.”

“Never.” I kiss the crook of her neck, stroke her hair.

“Don’t be mad at Jax.”

Well, hell. I draw back enough to meet her gaze. “Feelings are a little hard to ignore, Libs. And I’m f*cking pissed.”

The tip of her finger traces my eyebrow. “I know you are. I’m asking you not to be. You need each other.”

I want to argue, but she talks over me.

“And you aren’t happy when you’re pissed at him.”