Page 21

Mel

The cold water from the sprinklers plastered my hair to my face as I stumbled outside with the last wave of evacuating partygoers. My black dress clung to my body, waterlogged and heavy, rivulets running down my legs and pooling in my shoes. My teeth chattered as the night air hit my wet skin, but I barely noticed. All I could see was the limousine peeling away from the curb, Nova safely inside with Ethan and his team.

I’d been left behind. Again.

I tried to swallow past the tightness in my throat, but it felt like swallowing glass. This shouldn’t hurt. It was standard protocol—Nova was the client, the priority. Ethan and his team had done exactly what they were supposed to do. What they were paid to do.

But knowing that didn’t stop the hollow ache that spread through my chest as I watched the taillights disappear around the corner. It felt like someone had reached into my rib cage and squeezed, leaving me breathless and raw .

Around me, people pressed together in a chaotic mass outside the club. Some were crying, mascara running in dark streaks down their faces. Others were laughing with the giddy relief of perceived danger passed, their voices high and slightly hysterical. A few were already sharing their dramatic escape stories on their phones, gesturing wildly as they recounted the pandemonium inside.

“And then the sprinklers went off, and everyone just lost it!” a girl near me shrieked into her phone. “I thought I was going to die!”

Not a single person looked at me twice. No one asked for an autograph or tried to take my picture. In the midst of all this drama, I was invisible. Just another wet, disheveled club-goer trying to make sense of what had happened.

Unlike Nova, when people had been trying to get a picture with her despite what was going on. Yet another reason why the Citadel team had to get her out of here immediately.

And leave me behind.

The wail of approaching sirens cut through the night air as fire trucks rounded the corner, their red lights painting the wet pavement in alternating flashes. Everyone stepped back from the curb to make room for the emergency vehicles, and I moved farther over to the side, nearly slipping on the slick sidewalk. My heel caught in a crack, and I stumbled, catching myself against a lamppost.

I pulled my phone from my clutch with fumbling fingers, trying to call for a ride back to the hotel. The screen was wet, making it difficult to unlock. When I finally managed it, the signal bars showed nothing. No service. Perfect. With this many people all trying to use their phones at once, the network was probably overloaded.

I looked around at the sea of people competing for the few available taxis. Yellow cabs were being swarmed the moment they pulled up, people practically climbing over one another to claim them. This was going to take a while. Maybe I should start walking?—

My phone buzzed with a single text that had managed to get through:

On way to hotel. U good?

Nova hadn’t demanded they wait for me, but at least she’d remembered to check on me. I guessed that was something.

“Mel? Mel Rivers?”

I turned toward the familiar voice, squinting through the crowd. A man separated himself from a group near the club entrance, making his way toward me with careful steps on the wet pavement.

Oh great. Tommy Fitzsimmons. The no-spark coffee shop date from several months ago. The one who couldn’t seem to take the hint that I was not interested from the sidestepped texts and then the lack of responding.

“Tommy,” I said, trying to inject some warmth into my voice that I didn’t feel. “Hi. I forgot you lived around here, right?”

He beamed at me like I’d just made his night, water dripping from his sandy hair onto his already soaked button-down shirt. “Yeah,” he replied, stepping closer. “Family has lived in Louisiana for generations.” He gave me a concerned once-over. “Are you okay? That was pretty crazy in there.”

“I’m fine,” I said automatically, then surprised myself by adding, “Well, mostly fine. I got separated from my group in the evacuation.”

“Your sister. Nova. The singer.” He looked a little disgusted. That was one thing I’d liked about Tommy—he definitely hadn’t been using me to get to Nova.

“That’s the one. Security hustled her off.”

His brow furrowed, genuine concern on his face. “Do you need help getting back to wherever you’re staying? ”

I gestured helplessly at the mayhem around us. “No, I’ll call for a car once I can get a signal.”

“So how’s the tour going?” he asked, clearly trying to distract me from the situation. “I saw some of the reviews online. Sounds like Nova’s killing it.”

A bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it. “Oh, she’s definitely killing something. Me, mostly.”

Tommy’s eyebrows rose. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“No, it’s…” I sighed, running a hand through my wet hair. I shouldn’t be dumping all this on him. “It’s fine. Just the usual chaos. You know how it is—or maybe you don’t. What did you say you do again?”

“Software development,” he replied. “Pretty boring compared to the music industry.”

“Boring sounds amazing right about now,” I admitted. “Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to just sail away from all of this. Leave the chaos behind and find somewhere quiet. Somewhere nobody knows who Nova Rivers is or expects me to solve every crisis that comes up.”

Tommy nodded enthusiastically. “You deserve better than to be at someone else’s beck and call, Mel.”

I shifted uncomfortably. This conversation was getting too personal, too close to truths I usually kept buried. “Thanks, Tommy. Listen, I should apologize for not responding to your texts. Things have been incredibly hectic with the tour?—”

“I understand completely. Nova, taking up way too much of your time,” he interrupted, waving away my apology. “But maybe when things calm down, we could grab that coffee? Or dinner?”

I opened my mouth to politely decline when a deep voice cut through the night air.

“Mel.”

I spun around, my heart leaping into my throat. Ethan stood there, water still dripping from his dark hair, his white dress shirt plastered to his chest in a way that made my mouth go dry. His eyes locked on mine with an intensity that made my breath catch.

“Ethan? What— How—” I stammered, completely thrown. There was no way he’d made it back to the hotel and then back here in this short amount of time. “Is Nova okay?”

“She’s fine,” he said, closing the distance between us with long strides. The crowd seemed to part for him instinctively. “But I needed to make sure you were too.”

The simple statement wrapped around me like a blanket. He’d come back. For me.

“You left Nova?” I asked, still trying to process this.

“Logan and Ty will secure her at the hotel.” His jaw tightened slightly, a muscle jumping beneath the skin. “I couldn’t leave without knowing you were safe.”

“I’ve been left behind before,” I admitted quietly, the words slipping out before I could stop them. “It’s what’s supposed to happen.”

“Not anymore,” he said firmly, his voice rough with something that sounded like anger—but not at me. “Not on my watch.”

The way he looked at me then—like I was something precious, something worth protecting—made my knees weak. His eyes were dark with concern and something else, something that made heat pool low in my belly despite the cold.

Tommy cleared his throat beside me, reminding me of his presence. “Oh, sorry. Ethan, this is Tommy Fitzsimmons. Tommy, this is Ethan Cross, head of my sister’s security team.”

Tommy extended his hand, but Ethan barely glanced at him, offering only a curt nod before returning his full attention to me. His eyes traveled over me, taking in my soaked dress, my shivering form. Something flashed in his expression—possessiveness, maybe—and he shrugged out of his suit jacket.

“Here,” he said. The fabric was warm from his body heat, if damp, and it smelled like him—cedar and something uniquely Ethan. “We need to go. I’ve got a car waiting.”

The dismissal was clear, and I felt a twinge of guilt at Tommy’s crestfallen expression. But Ethan’s hand was already at the small of my back, his palm burning through the wet fabric of my dress, guiding me away from the crowd with gentle pressure that felt anything but gentle.

“It was nice seeing you, Tommy,” I called over my shoulder, but Ethan was already leading me toward a black SUV idling at the corner.

He opened the passenger door for me, his hand never leaving my back until I was safely inside. Only then did he round the vehicle to slide behind the wheel.

The interior was warm, and I sank into the leather seat with a sigh of relief. Ethan started the engine but didn’t pull away immediately. Instead, he turned to face me, his eyes roaming over my face like he was memorizing every detail.

“You came back for me,” I said softly.

“I’ll always come back for you,” he replied, his voice rough with emotion. “If I’d known you weren’t in the limo, I wouldn’t have left without you.”

The simple declaration made tears prick at my eyes. I blinked them away, overwhelmed by the realization that for the first time in longer than I could remember, someone had put me first.

Not Nova. Not the tour. Not the endless demands of our carefully constructed world.

Just me.

“Ethan,” I whispered, reaching across the console to touch his arm. His muscles tensed under my fingers, and when he looked at me, the heat in his gaze made my breath catch.

“I can’t believe Nova was okay with you finding your own way home. ”

“I’m fine,” I assured him, but my voice came out breathier than intended.

“You’re shivering,” he countered, reaching over to adjust the heat controls. His arm brushed against mine, and electricity sparked between us.

“Not just from the cold,” I admitted, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

His eyes darkened, pupils dilating. The air in the car suddenly felt thick, charged with tension that had nothing to do with the night’s events and everything to do with the man beside me.

“Mel,” he growled, my name a warning and a promise.

I leaned toward him, drawn by the magnetic pull between us. “Take me back to the hotel,” I whispered. “Please.”

That was what he was already doing, but he knew what I meant. The SUV peeled away from the curb with controlled urgency, Ethan’s hands tight on the wheel. I watched his profile in the intermittent glow of streetlights, admiring the strong line of his jaw, the intensity of his focus.

“I can feel you staring,” he said without taking his eyes off the road.

“Can you blame me?” I replied, boldness making me brave. “You’re so sexy when you’re being all protective and commanding.”

A muscle jumped in his jaw. “You’re playing with fire.”

“Maybe I want to get burned.”

He exhaled sharply, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. “Don’t say things like that when I’m trying to drive safely.”

“Why not?”

“Because it makes me want to pull over and show you exactly how protective and commanding I can be.”

Heat flooded through me at his words, pooling low in my belly. I shifted in my seat, pressing my thighs together to ease the sudden ache .

“The hotel’s only ten minutes away,” I pointed out, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Longest ten minutes of my life,” he muttered.

The tension built with each passing second, the silence heavy with promise. When we finally pulled into the hotel’s underground parking garage, Ethan killed the engine and turned to face me fully.

“Last chance to change your mind,” he said, his voice rough. “Once we go upstairs…”

“I’m not changing my mind,” I interrupted. “I want this. I want you.”

Something snapped in his expression. In one fluid motion, he unbuckled his seat belt and reached for me, cupping the back of my neck as he pulled me into a searing kiss.

I gasped against his mouth, and he took advantage, deepening the kiss until I was dizzy with want. His other hand found my waist, pulling me as close as the console would allow.

When we finally broke apart, both breathing heavily, he rested his forehead against mine.

“Upstairs,” he commanded. “Now.”

He walked me to the elevator, his hand never leaving mine. The moment the doors closed, he had me pressed against the wall, his mouth hot on my neck.

“Been wanting to do this all night,” he murmured against my skin. “Watching you in that dress, knowing what’s underneath…”

I arched into him, fingers tangling in his wet hair. “You’ve already seen what’s underneath,” I reminded him breathlessly.

“Not enough,” he growled. “Not nearly enough.”

The elevator dinged, announcing our arrival at my floor. Ethan pulled back just enough to appear respectable as the doors opened, but his hand remained possessively on my lower back as we hurried down the hallway.

My fingers shook as I fumbled with the keycard. Ethan took it from me, sliding it into the lock with steady hands. The moment we were inside, the door barely closed behind us, he had me against it.

“Tell me you want this,” he demanded, his body pressed against mine, letting me feel exactly how much he wanted me.

“I want this,” I breathed. “I want you. Now.”