Passionate Addiction (26 page)

He grinned for the briefest moment. “I love you, sweet angel.”

She placed her mouth against his, and her nose began to tingle with the threat of tears. The kiss was feather-light, tender, and with all the strength inside her, she pulled away.

“Bye,” she whispered and turned in his arms to leave.

Her feet were heavy, her limbs aching as she took the first step. His hand gripped hers and pulled her back, ripping a sob from her chest. He tugged her into his arms and cupped her face with his palms. His lips smashed against hers, hard, doubling her heartache, multiplying her pain. Their tongues tangled and her hands went under his shirt needing the warmth of the expanse of skin above his heart.

She clawed at him, sweeping her tongue back and forth over his, loving the way he cradled her lovingly in his hands. Tears blazed down her cheeks, scorching her from the outside in, only increasing the way her stomach somersaulted from passion and equal parts misery.

Their lips parted on a heated gasp, and she didn’t allow herself to falter. In a heartbeat, her hands were out from under his shirt, and she was striding from the room.

“See you soon, angel.”

I told my parents about you.
Gabi pressed send on the text message and seconds later her phone rang.

“Hey, angel. I miss you.” Blake’s voice sounded tired.

“I miss you, too.” She missed his voice, his touch, his love, and barely twenty-four hours had passed. “And thank you for the lilies. The florist delivered them this morning.”

“I hope you liked them.”

“I always do.” Blake had sent her flowers three years in a row and each time it gave her strength to face the day.

“So what happened with your parents?”

She inhaled and slumped back onto the bed. They had acted according to plan—apprehensive, protective, and disapproving. She hadn’t planned on telling them about Blake, had argued with herself all Tuesday night about it. But when she arrived at their house on Wednesday, she knew she wouldn’t get through the day without releasing the bubble bursting to break free.

If she couldn’t be with Blake, then she needed to talk about him. And it wasn’t like her parents couldn’t use a distraction. She’d gone with them to the cemetery, had held her mother while she sobbed at Greg’s grave, and watched her father stand tall and proud as he focused on his son’s headstone. Gabi had made morning tea, helped with lunch, then cleaned up the mass of dishes to start again at afternoon tea. And when they sat down for another coffee, the words flittered from her lips.
“Mom… Dad…I’ve met someone.”

“I told them I’m seeing someone.”

“And?” He growled, “Come on, sweetheart, you’re killin’ me.”

She chuckled. Nothing was sexier than that guttural sound he made. “I suppose it ended better than expected.”

“Which means?”

She could hear banging in the background, guitars being tuned and people shouting. “Are you working? Is this a bad time?”

“Christ. No. Just tell me!”

“I can hear noise in the background. I don’t want to disturb you.”

“We’re about to do a full rehearsal with the supporting band. I’m not playing for over an hour, though, so tell me. Now, woman!”

OK, she’d procrastinated long enough. “My parents were…
concerned
about your career. Which I suppose is warranted. What parent wants their only daughter dating a rock star? In the end, though, I think I won them over. They want to meet you… Well, I think dad actually wants to grill you until you cry, but at least he didn’t vow to get out his shotgun.”

Silence.

“Blake?”

“That’s great.” His tone said otherwise.

“I don’t understand. I thought you wanted to meet my parents.”

“I did… I
do
.” Awkward silence. “Now that it’s actually going to happen, I’m kinda shitting myself.”

Her cheeks lifted with a wide smile. “I’m not looking forward to it myself. But you’ll be fine. They’ll love you. Eventually.”

“Ha ha. Very funny. I gather you didn’t tell them how we met or what I look like.”

“Uh, yes and no. I told them we met online.”

Gabi cringed, remembering the way her father responded,
“I hope it wasn’t one of those cheesy relationship sites.”

She’d wanted to smile and say, “No, Daddy, the website was all about drug addiction.” Instead, she bit her tongue.

“I told them the basic details. Your career, where you live, and most importantly that you make me happy. For now, that’s all they need to know.”

Baby steps were the key.

“Well, I’m glad they know. Did today go all right otherwise? I’ve wanted to call you every second.”

Gabi closed her eyes and rested her head back on a pillow. Anniversaries were always tough. This year had been worse because of her ping-ponging emotions and the way her heart yearned for Blake’s comfort. “I got through the day.”

“I wish I was there with you.”

She crinkled her nose and pressed her lips together. Not a single tear had fallen down her cheeks today. She wouldn’t start blubbering now. “I wish you were here, too.” God, how she wished he was here. A simple hug from Blake would soothe everything, the exhaustion, the heartache, the grief. “Remind me again, how long until you finish your tour?”

***

“Too long, angel. Too god damn long.” Blake stared at the grey cement floor and focused on the image of Gabi in his mind. The hours apart had made him determined. He was going to make his life a fucking fairytale, all for her, the woman he loved—his best friend.

His first hurdle was Michelle. He’d stayed awake until early morning, writing a list of contacts, making calls to the US and asking favors from people who owed him nothing.

Thank god for the celebrity status draw card.

People had vowed to keep an eye out for potential acting positions. Some even offered to look in different media avenues that might appease the demon bitch.

“Will you call me before you go on stage tomorrow?” Gabi asked.

“Definitely.” He toed a stone with his black boot and watched it roll along the floor. This distance shit really sucked. How the hell did Ryan do it? “I’ll call you first thing in the morning and every fifteen minutes afterward, if you want.”

He’d do it too, if he thought she wouldn’t grow tired of him in the process. He was dying to be with her again. Even the lingering scent of her shampoo on his hotel pillows drove him insane. Housekeeping had wanted to change the sheets this morning, and he’d had to turn them away, clinging like a little bitch to the one piece of Gabi he had left.

Her laugh echoed through the phone, the feminine, free-spirited sound warming his heart and shattering it all at the same time. “I think once before the show will be enough,” she said. “It’s already too hard to concentrate on anything other than you without the promise of calls every fifteen minutes.”

He couldn’t concentrate for shit. The band’s promotional obligations had started this morning with radio and television interviews, and Blake had been too distracted when asked, “What have you been doing since arriving in Australia?”

Apparently, “Gabi” wasn’t the correct response.

Leah hadn’t been amused. Not that it changed her already sullen mood. She still hadn’t recovered from her argument with Ryan, and neither one of them would talk about it.

“I’ll let you get back to work.”

Gabi’s voice kick started his heart into a faster tempo. All night his conscience nagged at him to tell her about Michelle. The few hours sleep had only increased its potency. He couldn’t do it now though, not on the anniversary of her brother’s death. Blake probably wouldn’t tell her until they were face to face again, and hopefully then the problem would be resolved. No, it
would
be resolved. He’d make sure of it. Until then, he had to deal with keeping the information from her.

“OK. I’ll speak to you soon.”

“I love you, Blake.”

One side of his lips lifted in a grin. He’d never get used to hearing that. “You know, angel, I think that one actually counts.”

“It always counts when I say it.”

He sure hoped so, because right now her love was the only thing keeping him sane.

“I don’t want your pity job, Blake.” Michelle bitched over the crackling cell connection.

After a week of waiting for one of his contacts to pull through, he’d finally got the call. The part wasn’t much, a small stint in an upcoming paranormal sitcom, but it was a job. A paying job, and something that would get Michelle’s foot in the door…and out of his ass.

“We made a deal, and I’m sick to death of waiting. I’ve got nothing. Nothing, Blake! No money. No job. No social life. Either be here the day after your last concert—and yes, I do know when that is—or the deal is off.”

Blake clutched the hotel balcony railing and ground his molars until his jaw threatened to pop. “Don’t push me, Michelle. You seem to forget, I’m not the only one that’ll be publicly shamed with those images.”

Her threat had shadowed him for too long, making him edgy. It didn’t help that he was already falling apart from being away from Gabi. He found it hard to breathe when he wasn’t around her and he didn’t want to break her heart by postponing their catch up at the end of the tour. “Take the fucking job.”

“You take the fucking job!” she screeched.

How the hell had he ever been attracted to this woman? She was bat-shit crazy.

He closed his eyes and silently counted to ten, letting the slight Adelaide breeze ease his anger. Reckless Beat was flying to their final tour destination of Perth tomorrow for a week of performances. That gave him seven days to find a way to calm the wicked bitch of the West and get his happily ever after. Call it intuition, but whenever he thought about Michelle, and in return Gabi, a deep unrelenting ache settled behind his ribs.

“Fine. I’ll keep looking for something else,” he snarled.

“No, you won’t. That wasn’t the deal.
I
will find the acting position
I
want. Your job is to get my face back in the magazines.”

He couldn’t allow that. He needed to appease her before it got that far. Giving her money and dealing with her ranting was one thing. Hurting Gabi with images of him with his ex wasn’t acceptable. He wouldn’t be able to stand seeing the woman he loved with another man, no matter how innocent it was. So he wouldn’t do it to her.

“And if I can’t do that? What then?” Blake held his breath waiting for the inevitable answer.

“Then you leave me no choice.”

He scoffed. “I’ve had no choice from the start. Why can’t you take the job? Yes, it’s a small part, but at least it’s something. It’ll make a better news story than seeing us talking at social events.”

She laughed, and the maniacal sound gave him goose bumps of the shit-scared variety. “We won’t be talking, Blake. We’ll be making headlines, drawing attention, and doing whatever’s necessary to land me a
big
role in an upcoming movie. Not a piddly little snap shot in a no-name sitcom. So stop wasting time phoning friends.”

Padded footsteps sounded behind him, and he turned to see Alana’s worried gaze staring back at him from the other side of the sliding screen door.

“I’ve gotta go,” he muttered and ended the call. As he placed his cell back in his shorts’ pocket, Alana stepped onto the balcony, a coffee in her hands.

“Everything OK?” Her hair was ruffled from sleep, her body covered in a pink silk bathrobe.

“Fine, Allie.” He smiled and leaned back against the second story railing, feigning a calm he didn’t feel.

She broke eye contact and sat down on one of the wooden chairs lining the window, staring into her coffee. “It didn’t sound fine.” She shot him a quick glance from under her lashes, and then looked back at her mug.

He shrugged. “It’s nothing.” He wanted to follow up with “please quit asking,” but she didn’t deserve his anger. “Just an old acquaintance causing a few minor problems. I’ve got it sorted.”

She sipped her coffee and focused on him over the rim. When the mug came back down to rest in her hands, she continued to stare. “I lack a lot of life experience, Blake, but I’m not stupid. I can tell you’re in trouble. I only hope you’ll come to me or Mitchell for help if you need it.”