Shattered Dreams (Boys of Bellerose, #3)(55)
“Fuck’s sake,” Rhett muttered.
Jace said nothing, just shifted his moody gaze out the window. I thought for a moment that Rhett was angry at me, but the way he gripped my knee reassured me it was the blog post—not my kiss with Angel—that had him shaking with rage.
No one spoke for the rest of the drive to the hotel, and my drunk buzz was nearly gone by the time our driver pulled up at the foyer. Jace hopped out first, then extended a hand to help me. I took it, grateful that I could avoid flashing my panties to anyone who might be looking. I’d been in more than enough gossip articles to last me a lifetime without pulling that classic move.
At least I had panties on, though.
As we entered the five-star hotel lobby, a red-haired guy jerked his chin to Rhett like he knew him. Rhett made a small sound of surprise, then kissed my hair and told me to head upstairs with Jace. He gave us a little push in the direction of the elevators, and Jace touched a hand to the small of my back to keep me moving.
“Who was that?” I asked, frowning, as we stepped into the elevator that a bellboy held open.
Jace waited until the doors had closed, leaving us alone, before he replied. “Dunno. Weed dealer, probably.”
His tone was hard and cold, like he was mad at me. I wrinkled my nose and folded my arms under my breasts. “What’s your problem, Adams? You were all forgiveness and thanks for the song earlier, and now you’re acting like I just kicked your puppy.”
His head swiveled, his eye twitching with outrage as he stared at me. Then he slammed his hand on the emergency stop button, and the elevator shuddered to a complete standstill.
“My problem?” he exclaimed, incredulous for some reason. “Is that a joke?”
I blinked. “Um. No?” I was missing something big here, I was almost sure of it. Maybe I was still a little tipsier than I thought I was, because my brain wasn’t putting the pieces together.
“You’re unbelievable!” he roared, throwing up his hands as he whirled to face me. Two steps forward and he was in my personal space, backing me up into the corner of the elevator. “Are you really that oblivious, Billie? You have no clue why I’m pissed off right now? None at all? You’re a smart girl, Rose. Think about it.”
I swallowed heavily, unable to tear my eyes away from his as he stared right into my soul. Wetting my lips, I tried to think rationally. When had he shifted from easygoing and relaxed to moody and tense? The blog? No, he’d already been grouchy before we got in the car. So it had to have been something at the club…
“You’re angry that I kissed Angel,” I said in a quiet, uncertain voice. It couldn’t have been about Rhett, since he kissed me all the time and gave zero fucks who was around to witness it. But Angel… that was a new thing. Unexpected, but not in a bad way.
Jace made a feral noise. “Bingo.”
My brow dipped, and my anger flared. “Why? What the fuck does it matter to you? Or are you just pissed that it was so public and now the blog is focusing on my love life instead of your surprise new album track? That you fucking stole, I might add.”
Jace’s face twisted with fury, and his fist slammed into the mirror behind me. “Jesus, Rose! You’re not that fucking na?ve, so don’t play games. It matters because…” He trailed off with a sound of frustration, his searing gaze dropping away from my face as he bowed his head.
“Jace,” I whispered, reaching out to touch his cheek and bring his eyes back up. “What is going on with us? I don’t even know where we stand. Ever since…” Ever since the plane, when you and Angelo comforted me like only the two of you could. When the three of us shared the pain of our collective loss and let go of some resentment over it…
“You really don’t know where we stand, Rose?” His voice was hoarse and pained. “I miss you. I always have. And fuck, watching you kiss Angel like everything was forgiven, like the last eight years never happened, it made me so jealous I could have punched through the wall. Every time I have to watch Rhett touch you, kiss you, love you, makes me want to commit murder. Every. Damn. Time. And he’s my best friend. Do you know what that does to me, Rose? I’m torn up inside, feeling homicidal toward these guys I consider my brothers, and you want nothing to do with me. We occasionally fuck, when the bickering gets too much, and then you act like nothing even happened. Meanwhile, I’m slowly losing my mind and my heart, and you…” He laughed bitterly “You just turn up looking like a fucking dream, then kiss Angel… instead of me.”
My heart pounded so hard it was like I’d just run a marathon, my fight-or-flight reflex filling me with adrenaline as Jace spoke. My palm still rested on his cheek, and I couldn’t tear it away even if I’d wanted to. But I didn’t. I wanted to give in to the tension between us and show Jace that I cared more than he realized.
That thought terrified me, though. Threesomes and casual ménage was one thing. Falling utterly in love with four guys all at once? That was a whole different league. Hell, it was a whole different sport. Not to mention how destroyed I’d be if Jace broke my heart this time.
I stayed silent too long, and Jace blew out a frustrated sigh, shaking his head. “Forget it. Mixing weed and alcohol fucks me up; I probably won’t remember any of this tomorrow.”
That casual dismissal cut through me like a serrated knife, and I grabbed his neck before he could turn away.