Page 133 of Sweet Surrender

That poor kid, doomed before he even had a chance.

That woman must be a drug addict to be that crazy.

I don’t stop until I’m blocks away, until the air burns in my lungs, until I can’t hear my mother’s voice muttering gibberish in the back of my head.

Then I do what I always do.

I throw myself into excess. Into forgetting.

I find the loudest bar and order the strongest drinks. It’s the quickest way to silence the war inside me. I knock the shots back one by one, letting the burn settle in my chest and hoping the numbness spreads quickly tonight.

I don’t want to feel shit.

I don’t want to think about the way Hendrix looked at me, the way she saw something she wasn’t supposed to.

“I don’t think I’d ever be able to trust him. Not while on the road. Not with all the women tempting him. My life is waiting for me and I can’t wait to go back to it.” She doesn’t love me. She doesn’t want me. Same old, same old.

I don’t want to think about the way she stood beside me, like she belonged there.

Because she doesn’t.

She can’t.

She doesn’t want this shit.

CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

Hendrix

I wandered the town for a bit. The City of Angels. I figured I’d give Jase time to collect himself, to come to grips with the fact that I know his secret, and then maybe once he did, we could talk about it.

There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Hell, he should be prouder of who he is because of it.

But I still figured I’d give him time.

So I sat at the beach and imagined what it was like for him growing up. I searched the internet for mentions of his childhood to see what I could learn—not much—and then felt guilty for doing so rather than waiting for him to tell me himself.

But I was trying to prepare myself for what I’d learn. I was trying to steel myself against making an expression on my face he’d deem as pity or disgust.

All I want is to tell him how much I admire him. That I love him and seeing his truth doesn’t negate that. And even though he’s pushed me away—doesn’t seem to want me anymore—I still think he’s an incredible man. Loving him isn’t easy, and I may not get the chance soon when he goes on tour, but I want to keep trying. I want to keep us.

However, after some time of thinking, I come home to something I thought I’d never see.

I don’t know what I expected, but it sure as shit wasn’t this.

The pool is packed with half-naked women, their laughter ringing through the air, mixing with the heavy bass from the outdoor speakers. The hot tub is just as bad—bikini-clad bodies pressing in around Jase, hands on his shoulders, in his hair, draped over his lap like they belong there.

And he’s drunk.

Completely, devastatingly wasted.

I stand in the shadows for a moment, my heart sinking lower and lower. I learned something real about him earlier—something raw and painful and honest. A glimpse of the man no one else gets to see. A glimpse of his loss.

And to add salt to the wound for ignoring me for days, this is what he does?

This is how he deals with it?

This is what he did on the day of the gala too? Fuck, I read him so wrong that night.