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“I know you do.” His arm around me tightens, letting me know that my thoughts were loud enough for him to hear. He strokes two fingers down the center of my throat, nice and slow, like he’s scared he’ll lose control. Using the movement to soothe us both. “I know you don’t want to want me as much as I’m certain that I only want you. Kelsey, please... I’m begging you. Let me handle her so that she’ll never be a problem for us again.”

“Two weeks,” I whisper as his hand settles at the base of my throat, fingers spread to one side, thumb to the other. My own hands are bunched in the tight cotton covering his abs. Clinging. Drawing him closer. Like an addiction I can’t quit. “Two weeks with her making my life hell...”

“I just need to find something to use against her.” His lips touch my cheek, my jaw. The warmth of his breath sizzles on my skin. “We’re going to find where the money went. As soon as we do, it’s over. She’s gone. I know I’m asking a lot...”

“Too much...” It’s not fair of him to ask anything of me at all. Not after everything.

“Too much,” he murmurs against my skin. “I know you think you can’t trust me...” his lips press and entreat “...and I don’t deserve you... but please, Kelsey, don’t keep shutting me out. It’s killing me.” He captures my mouth with a hungry, watery desperation.

I can taste the salt of it, rife with emotion. The same storm inside me. We grip at each other, trying to get closer, trying to erase all the bad between us with the clash of our tongues.

But it’s not that simple. And it can’t be that easy. I can’t fall into him again. Can’t have my heart broken by him again... while he chooses himself over me. Again.

“You can’t ask me to wait around for months while you play at loving her.” I clasp his face with both hands, forcing his mouth from mine, making him look at me. Trying to find my backbone, when all I want to do is get swept up in him. “You can’t ask me to put myself on the line when you won’t. You can’t do that.”

He pulls me back when I try to walk away. “Give me this leg of the tour. A few more weeks. That’s all I’m asking for.”

“And then what?”

His gaze is unwavering, solemn. “Even if we don’t find what we need to clear your name... I’ll end it.”

I contemplate his words, and they ring true. But there’s this pain in my chest... it tells me agreeing is idiocy. So maybe I’m an idiot. Because I can’t find the strength to shut him out entirely.

But I will.

“I have nowhere else to go.” I shrug, making it sound like it’s not about him. “You have your time.”

“Thank you,” he says, finally releasing my arm.

I walk away from him backward. “But I’m not yours, Riot Maddox. Like your fiancée said, I’m just the band’s slut.”

And since she’s been spying on us the whole time... I’m not going to hold back on being with them.

Spinning on my heel, I leave him on the rooftop by himself.

I am going to make sure he knows I’m not waiting for him... pining over him... that I won’t just be here waiting in the wings like I can’t live my life without him.

Even though that’s exactly what it feels like.

If he wants us as badly as he says he does, he’ll be man enough to fight for me. Really fight for me.

18

Riot

“The money is there. It’s all accounted for. But the account is under Kelsey Peterson, which shouldn’t be possible.” Micah keeps flicking the stud in his tongue against his teeth as he concentrates on something out of my sight. “Of course I could do it, so it’s not impossible for someone with the knowledge or connections.”

“You’re telling me that the paperwork is legitimate?” That we’re not complete idiots for believing the information presented to us was real. That Carmine might not know that his daughter is a fucking psychopath.

“Technically.” He grimaces. “Yes. It’s authentic. As authentic as fraud can be. They either know someone at the bank who could set up the account, a tech who could backdoor a new account without anyone being any the wiser, or they have the ego to show up with doctored ID and pretend to be Kelsey. It’s totally criminal, but harder to prove.”

I scrub a hand down my face. Trying to follow the bouncing ball of Sonatina’s bullshit is exhausting. “But we are going to prove she’s innocent, right?”

Because there’s not another option.

“Of course,” he says. “Or you could fill West in. I’m sure he already knows. Dizzy does not like your fiancée. It was all she could talk about. She spent the whole ride home dreaming up the best way to make her vanish.”

“Sounds like Dizzy.” And it’s tempting. So fucking tempting.