Page 73

Peter released my gaze and shook his head. His mouth spread into the signature captivating smile he flashed at his fans, and was now directed at me.
I hated this fake smile of his. It wasn’t the one he usually bestowed on me. And I was beginning to wonder when this façade had become his default.
And why it took me so long to see through it.
“Take it from the top,” Peter called out to the band.
I gave him a quick nod when he turned my way and tapped on my headphones to let him know I was listening. He didn’t respond, but the lines in his brow remained.
Peter knew me well enough to realize something was off with me. And if it didn’t affect him, I had no doubt he’d forget, but right now he was intrigued and maybe annoyed. It was only a matter of time before he found out about me and Killian.
And while I might be a little more forward with him, I wasn’t ready for that confrontation.
Not yet.
Which put everything into perspective for me.
It was bad enough that Peter was going to be upset with me. When he learned I was dating Killian, he was going to be pissed. Things between us here would change. My heart raced and my muscles ached from how tense I’d been all morning. I was lucky no one seemed to notice how off I was until now. Although, that was my own doing. If I’d just apologized instead of snapping at Peter, no one would have been any the wiser.
But I couldn’t stop thinking about Killian’s demand that I move in with him, and now with distance and clarity how that might not be the best idea forme.
I wasn’t ready to share the status of my new relationship with Killian, even if it was fake. Lying didn’t come easily to me—as Killian had pointed out—and I worried I’d never pull it off. Especially in front of Peter. And if I moved in with Killian, how would I explainthatto him? To anyone, really?
But, living with Killian also made hiding our newfound relationship a little easier until we announced it to the world.
And then there was the matter of this insane attraction I seemed to be feeling toward him. It was so completely unexpected, and I needed to figure out what to do with it.
That was it. I made up my mind.
No deal.
I needed to tell Killianno.
He wouldn’t be pleased, but eventually he’d see it my way.
Right?
I stared at the open half-packed suitcases on my couch. I’d packed them before I left this morning. The sight of my belongings, haphazardly strewn about, was a visual reminder of the decision I’d made. Now I had to tell Killian I wasn’t moving in, and that he was being ridiculous. I’d been living on my own for years without any problems.
I glanced out the window at the small park across the street that had seen better days. On either side of it, the other apartment buildings on the street were mixed in with modest single-family homes. So what if this wasn’t the greatest neighborhood or the newest building? Killian didn’t get to tell me where I lived, or how.
My face heated. I still couldn’t believe how angry I’d gotten with him last night. He was being a total overprotective jerk, andI reacted like I always did with him. Fiery. Being around Killian lit a match that when applied to the fuse of my temper, ignited each word until it came within inches of exploding.
Usually, I found it easier to go along with what other people wanted. I hated to disappoint anyone or have them feel like I didn’t care. And I genuinely liked being helpful.Sometimes to your detriment, a voice whispered at the back of my mind.
I needed to ignore that voice. It wasn't helpful.
Yet around Killian it was like all of my people-pleasing ways got thrown out the window and my emotions became amplified. Unlike with everyone else, I seemed to be comfortable enough not to feel like I had to suppress my true feelings.
Why was that?
I reached for my cell phone and swiped the screen, scrolling until my finger hovered over Killian’s name. My pulse raced as I anticipated his reaction. I knew he’d be upset. Would he also be disappointed?
And would I be able to stand my ground if he tried to change my mind yet again? I sucked in a long, deep breath, steeling myself for the conversation.
A controlled set of knocks interrupted my internal struggle. Who could it be? I approached the door cautiously, curious who would be here without calling first.
“Trissa? It’s Max.”