Nalini Singh - Rock Addiction

The final image was of Noah and Fox leaning on the balcony railing of a waterfront apartment, the image clearly taken from somewhere on the ground. Molly recognized Fox’s T-shirt; it was the one he’d worn the first night at the party.

The caption made her tongue go dry, her breath coming so fast she knew she was in danger of a panic attack: The local female fans are apparently extending a warm welcome—Noah was spotted returning to his apartment around four in the morning, while a source tells us Fox spent the entire night with a lucky mystery woman!

Screwing her eyes shut, Molly ignored the roaring in her ears and concentrated on doing the breathing exercise the school counselor had taught her back when the scandal first broke. It took several minutes, but she was eventually able to read the article associated with the apartment photo.

A wracking shudder of relief.

The article was pure fluff, the “source” probably created in the reporter’s imagination in order to spice up the photo editorial, which was heavily focused on Noah’s shirtless upper body.

Did you know, she messaged Fox, there are already photos online of the band on the island—and at your apartment building?

Grill’s out back in an enclosed space the paps can’t get at, came the reply. I’ll pick you up at eight.

The message was so Fox, confident and take charge, and if Molly was honest with herself, she liked that about him… but some risks she couldn’t take. No, she wrote back, I’ll see you another night.

The phone rang in her hand a second later. “I’m not changing my mind,” she said, before he could charm her into exactly that.

“Don’t worry, baby.” The grit and sex of his voice made her body ache, but more dangerous was the effect he had on her heart. “We know how to avoid the cameras when necessary—it’s why we give the paps an easy shot now and then, so the bastards stay lazy and don’t dig.”

She couldn’t bear to miss even a single night with him, wanted badly to give in, but her stomach churned at the idea of her past being dug up by the voracious media, of the nightmare beginning again. Sweat broke out along her spine. “No, Fox. I can’t risk it.”

“You’re being overcautious.” Edgy frustration, a kiss of the temper she’d already come up against once. “Even if someone snaps you from a distance, it won’t be a huge deal.”

Fingers clenching on the phone, she said, “It would be to me,” and hung up. A lump choking her throat as she fought the tears, she stared unseeing at the wall in front of her. Maybe he didn’t know her history, but she’d told him how much it meant to her to stay out of the spotlight.

And he’d said it didn’t matter.

Despite her angry hurt, she couldn’t help checking her phone an hour later, a cold tightness inside her. There were no further messages from Fox.

Exiting the elevator of her apartment building at six that night, Molly found herself searching for a tall male form leaning against the wall, guitar by his side. Her gut-wrenching disappointment when Fox wasn’t there offered an agonizing preview of exactly how much it would hurt if she never saw him again. Pushing through the door after unlocking it, she dumped her stuff and sat down on the bench to take off her shoes—and remembered what Fox had done to her in this spot.

“Stop it,” she ordered herself, but it wasn’t that easy. Fox had left his mark on her entire apartment.

She lasted an hour before she couldn’t stand the memories anymore. Picking up the phone, she called Charlotte. Her best friend was working late but fell in happily with the idea of dinner down at the Viaduct, that section of the waterfront always vibrant with life.

“So,” she asked, after meeting Charlotte in the lobby of her building, “how’s it going with the new boss?” Maybe the jagged knot in her chest would unravel if she just didn’t think about Fox.

“Honestly, after that disaster over the weekend, I’ve tried to stay out of his way.” A groan at the mention of a dinner she’d described in a text message as Silent Charlie-mouse waiting for the growling, bad-tempered predator to eat her. “He’s causing carnage in management. Two new firings today.”

“Wow.”

“I know, right? Anyway, enough about T-Rex.”

“What?” Molly laughed at the look on her friend’s face, Charlotte’s cheeks pink at having been caught out. It eased some of the tension in her body, though it did nothing to ease the ache deep inside her. “T-Rex?”

“He’s big, scary, and people run when they see him coming.” With that succinct description, Charlotte slipped her arm through the crook of Molly’s as they walked out into a night that actually wasn’t as cold as it could’ve been. “Do you want to get ice cream first and find a good spot to watch the water? Radio said there’s a super yacht coming in soon. Might be fun to see some gazillionaire’s fancy boat.”

“Dessert before dinner?” she said, forcefully ignoring the horrible sense of loss that continued to grow within her. “I’m in.”

Ice creams in hand an easy stroll later, they decided to sit on the wide, shallow steps near the ornate ferry building that was a piece of history amongst the steel and glass so prevalent in this section of the city. Hand-holding couples on dates, businesspeople on their way home, night runners with their earbuds in, the surrounding area was electric with activity.

“So,” Charlotte said after they’d taken their seats, “what’s the matter?”

Molly looked out over the harbor, the dark slick of water colored by the lights of nearby businesses. Even now, she could get on a ferry and be on the island in under forty minutes. “Why do you think anything’s the matter?” she asked, quashing the dangerous impulse that could destroy her.

A shoulder bump. “How long have we been friends? Spill. Are you still worrying about what Thea said?”

“No. But… there was a reason I had that conversation with Thea.” Taking a deep breath, Molly told Charlotte what had happened after the party.

Her best friend’s mouth fell open. “You—with Zachary Fox—” Throwing one arm around Molly with a cry of wild glee, she smacked a big kiss on Molly’s cheek. “My hero!” She pulled back her arm a second before her ice cream would’ve toppled over. “At least one of us will have outrageous stories with which to shock any grandchildren we might or might not have.”

Startled into a giggle, Molly leaned against her petite friend and shared the rest. Not the private memories, the ones that meant the most, but the reason why she’d be alone in her bed tonight. “Do you think I’m being ridiculous?” she said at the end. “About not being caught by the media with Fox?”

“Of course not.” Charlotte finished off her cone, balled up the napkin it had been wrapped in, and took Molly’s to the trash as well before coming back. “I was there, remember?” She closed her small-boned hand over Molly’s. “Did you tell Fox about what happened? So he knows it has nothing to do with him?”

Shaking her head, Molly pointed out the gleaming super yacht that had appeared in the distance. “I’m falling for him,” she whispered, admitting the truth to the one person she knew would never betray her trust. “I can hardly bear to think about the end of our month together.” If Fox even wanted to continue their affair after today’s fight. “If I let him in any further… it’ll be agony.”

Charlotte didn’t respond for a long time, the two of them watching the sleek progress of the yacht built to be a dream on water, golden light pouring through every window. Someone had also put up tiny colored lights along the railings, adding a sense of mischief and whimsy to the regal craft, the colors pretty against the silky deep blue of the night.

“I’m scared, Molly,” Charlotte said at last, her voice quiet. “All the time. You know why.”

Molly hugged her close. “We don’t have to talk about it.” It hurt her friend to discuss the events that had devastated her first year of university, causing internal scars that had never faded. Because while Charlie had been shy her whole life, she’d also always had a sparkling fire inside her, which that brutal year had all but doused.

“No, it’s okay.” Her friend turned to face her, soft blonde curls escaping the knot at the nape of her neck. “I miss out on so much because I’m scared—and the thing is, I’m intelligent enough to know it. That just makes it worse.”

“You’re selling yourself short.” Molly wouldn’t allow it. “You said I was brave, but I wouldn’t have made it through high school and foster care without you.” She didn’t know how many times she’d cried in Charlotte’s arms, or turned toward her for silent moral support when the taunts threatened to break her down. “You were my rock.”

“You were mine, too.” Charlotte shook her head, her eyes full of quiet power behind the transparent shield of her glasses. “Don’t let that tough, strong, fifteen-year-old girl down, Molly. Don’t shortchange yourself like I do.”

Heart breaking for what her friend had been through, Molly turned back to face the water before she started crying. “Is it worth it,” she said when she could speak without her voice cracking, “for a single month?”

“That’s for you to decide—but I vote for breaking the bed with Mr. Kissable.” Charlotte fanned her face.

Molly burst out laughing, grateful once again for her best friend. She only wished she could help Charlotte conquer her own fears, convince her to put away the shapeless, unflattering clothes that swamped her tiny frame and let down those pretty curls. But if Molly’s rules were her security blanket, Charlotte’s clothes were hers. “Maybe you need a rock star of your own.”