Backstage Pass
Page 84

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Brian asked her, much more alert than he’d been a few moments before.
“Like what?”
“Like you have a bad taste in your mouth.” Brian licked his lips, his brows drawing together in confusion. “And why do my lips taste like cherry?” He lifted his head to glare at Trey. “Did you kiss me again?”
Again?
Trey chuckled uneasily. “Of course not.” He tossed a pen and pad of paper onto the bed and fled the room. The door closed behind him securely. He hadn’t even bothered to take his clothes with him.
Brian looked at Myrna. “He kissed me, didn’t he?”
“Maybe.”
“I’m going to go kick his ass now. Excuse me.” He backed away, his c**k fal ing free of her body. Myrna wrapped her arms around his neck. “I don’t want you to go.” She nuzzled her face against his neck. She could never remember feeling this emotional y attached to anyone. Why did knowing that someone else loved Brian make her want him for herself even more?
“He knows better.”
“Are you and Trey more than friends?” she asked, her heart thudding. Please say no. Please. Brian stopped trying to pul away and went entirely stil . “I’m not sure how to answer that question.”
“Are you lovers?”
He hesitated for far too long. Myrna felt sick to her stomach. Not because it was Trey that Brian shared an intimate relationship with, but because she and Brian weren’t as exclusive as she had led herself to believe.
“I know I’m going to regret tel ing you this.” He took a deep breath and avoided her gaze when he said, “Trey and I experimented with each other in high school.”
“High school?” she said breathlessly.
“Yeah. It was only once.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Okay, twice. I f**ked him twice. But we got it out of our systems and we never did it again.” He buried his face in her neck. “I disgust you now, don’t I? I should never have told you.”
“I’m not disgusted,” she whispered. Relieved. Yes, that’s what she was feeling. And happy that he trusted her enough to tel her something that personal.
He lifted his head to look at her, his eyes wide with surprise. “You’re not?”
“No. It’s fine. It’s al in the past. Right?”
“Yeah, of course. I don’t even like to think about it.” He stared into her eyes for a long moment and then pressed his lips to hers. “I can’t believe you’re cool with this. You’re too good to be true.”
He showed his appreciation with deep, al -encompassing kisses and questing hands. She encouraged his attention, knowing that even though Brian was wel over his brief attraction to Trey, Trey was in no way ready to give up on Brian.
Chapter 33
Myrna set her stack of data on the coffee table between her laptop and cup of chamomile tea and answered her cel phone. Didn’t he realize it was 11 o’clock at night in her time zone?
“Hel o?”
“I miss you,” Brian murmured. “Did I wake you?”
She smiled. She missed him, too, but had been getting a lot of work done since she’d returned home. She was almost caught up. Her guilt trip for abandoning her work to enjoy Brian was starting to wane. Just a little. Maybe she could return to him sooner than she’d imagined. “No, I’m stil working. How did the music video shoot go today?”
“I’m in al of five shots. Sed’s a total camera hog. The rest of us were bored.” She heard the slur in his voice.
“And so you drank al day,” she guessed.
“We were bored.”
“I’m going to let you go.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m working.” And I can’t stand the sound of your voice when you’re drunk.
“Is that real y why?”
“Cal me back tomorrow,” she said. “When you’re sober.”
“Myrna?”
She hung up. She sighed and picked up her data. She’d only typed in one number when the phone rang again. She considered not answering, but final y picked up.
“Brian, I don’t want to talk to you right now.”
“Who’s Brian?”
Myrna’s blood turned cold. Her throat closed off.
Jeremy.
She couldn’t breathe, much less speak. How had he gotten her phone number? She’d been careful to keep it unlisted and had given it to very few people.
“Who’s Brian?” he repeated.
Her only reply was a gasp. Paralyzed with fear, she couldn’t move. Or think.
“Is he the reason you’ve been away from your apartment for over three weeks?”
How did he know she’d been away? Was he watching her again?
“Are you f**king him?”
“How did you get this number?” she asked around the lump in her throat.
“Are you f**king him? I’l kil him. No one touches you but me. Do you understand? You’re my wife. You belong to me.”
“Jeremy, we’re divorced. And in case you forgot, I stil have that restraining order.”
“Are you going to cal the cops? Go ahead. They don’t know where I am, but I’l see you real soon, sugar.” He disconnected. Myrna tossed the cel phone across the couch as if it had transformed into a snake. She jumped to her feet, lowered the blinds at al the windows and jerked the drapes closed. She checked to make sure the front door was locked. Bolted. Chained. She looked in the closets. Checked under the bed and behind doors. In the kitchen cabinets. The refrigerator. She was alone. Too alone for comfort. She picked up her cel phone and locked herself in the bathroom.
When she closed the door, the shower curtain bil owed. Myrna dialed 911 and held her thumb over Send as she approached the bathtub. Heart thudding, she grabbed the curtain and jerked it back.
Empty.
Her shoulders sagged with relief. She sat on the edge of the bathtub with her back against the cold, tile wal so she could see the entire room. Jeremy might have learned to teleport since she’d last seen him.
She cal ed Brian.
He answered on the second ring. “Oh, so now you want to talk to me.”
She could hear a lot of noise in the background. Loud music. Conversation. Laughter. Clinking glasses. She was scared out of her wits and he was partying like, wel , a rock star. The jerk.
“J-Jeremy cal ed,” she whispered.
“What? I can’t hear you,” he shouted.