Page 78 of Hard Rock Fling

Chapter Twenty-Seven

"Ian, please, let me in."

I pounded my fist against the door, the loud hammering matching the pounding in my heart.

I'd begun to think he wasn't home. Or maybe he was still as determined to ignore me now as he had been since I'd ended things. I was getting discouraged. Discouraged and worried. What if he was hurting himself again? What if he was doing it right now, while I was stuck outside? I let out a sick choking sound, an almost sob.

"Ian,please!"

The door finally swung open a crack, my fist inches away from another heavy knock.

I pushed through to find Ian already heading back to his sofa. He flopped onto the cushions and faced me.

"What? What do you want?"

Even with a sullen expression, even with his tired eyes, he was still as gorgeous as he was the first time I'd seen him on stage. More so in his vulnerability.

I spoke softly, trying not to spook him. "I wanted to talk."

"Nothing to talk about," he muttered.

"You know there is."

I sat beside him gingerly on the opposite end of the couch, leaving space between us. I didn't want to crowd him.

"I can't forget what I saw today."

"Yes you can. You have to."

"I'm worried. You're hurting yourself. What if next time—"

"There won't be a next time!" he shouted, flinging himself off the sofa. Then he stopped and ran a hand over his face. "…probably."

"You've been doing it for years."

"That was a long time ago."

"You did it a few weeks ago."

"A momentary relapse."

"Then what was today?"

He went quiet.

"You need help," I begged. "You have to tell someone."

"Ican't."His eyes were desperate, wild. "Please.You're the only one who knows, aside from my brother. It has to stay that way." Ian must have sensed my anger. "Don't blame Damon."

"He threatened me if I told anyone."

Ian glanced away, ashamed. "He doesn't know I've started up again," he confessed quietly. "He thinks you saw my old scars." His eyes flicked to mine. "It's no one's fault. This is all me. It's how I deal with things."

"You call this dealing?"

"Look, it's nothing."

I gestured at his arm. "That isn't nothing, Ian."