Read Online Hung Out: A Needles and Pins Rock Romance by Lyrica Creed - Free Book Online
Authors: Lyrica Creed
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well have been sitting on my chest. It became impossible to breathe, but I croaked out a confused, “What?”
“I’m not capable of a relationship right now.”
“What are you saying? Did that come out in therapy?”
“No!” His eyes widened a fraction, visibly shocked at the question and then a resigned look glazed them. “Look.” For a second he seemed on the verge of pulling me to him, and his next words were gentle. “Can we just end this for now, without a lot of talking? Just put everything on hold, and then do our talking when we’re not hiding out in a barn?”
Holding his gaze, I stood as if in a trance. “Fine. My flight tomorrow is not until six. Call me and―”
“I won’t. I won’t call. Change it for an earlier one. Go ahead back to the house and go about your life like there’s no me rotting away back here.”
I’d been on the verge of slapping him or breaking down in tears. Which, I wasn’t sure. Now, I worried and sank to his level again. “Do they have you on some meds?”
His eyes had strayed, but they snapped to mine. “No. This is me. All me. Telling you we’re done for now.”
“Fine.” I wanted to scream every hateful curse in my vocabulary at him. More so, I wanted to scream them at myself. He was a fucking rock star. They were all nuts, and I’d known that going in. What an idiot I’d been to convince myself the boy, who’d once been my ally against the world and against my mother, was still inside the man who had just fucked me both physically and emotionally. “I don’t want to talk about it either. So don’t worry.” I hated messy split ups.
God. Is that what we’re doing? Breaking up?
“I’ll talk to you when I talk to you, I guess.” I stood as I talked and clenched my phone as if it were a lifeline. “I’m going to see if I can get a red-eye out. Maybe I can get back before Colt goes to bed.” I moved toward the stairs. And suddenly he was there, in my face.
“Fuck you, Scarlette.”
“No. Fuck you!”
His lips curved, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, you did. And I’m the best you’ll ever have. You know it.”
“Asshole. Let me go!”
He looked down and seemed startled to see his hands curled around my upper arms. Immediately, he released and I shot down the stairs so fast, I hit my head on the wall as I rounded the corner.
Chapter 11
T he warmth of the shower raining down over my skin relaxed me enough that my tears finally poured. I’d been dry eyed for almost twenty-four hours, through the overnight hotel stay—I hadn’t made good on my threat to take an earlier flight. Through the flight home, I’d dozed—exhausted from tossing and turning, expecting him to give in and call. I’d let myself into the house and played a few minutes with Rascal before going upstairs to wash the travel-grime feel from my body.
The dam of emotion might have remained intact longer had I not been reading the lyrics on the tile as I lathered my hair.
‘Forever Scarred’ broke me. There were only six verses in Gage’s distinctive scrawl. But his feelings and intentions at that time of our relationship shone through.
After drying off, I carelessly let the towel fall, pulled on one of his tee shirts and a pair of black Diesel boxers, and climbed into the bed with Rascal. Still sniffling, I dialed Ivy.
Voicemail greeted me and I spoke. “Hi. I just got back. Call me when you can.” Hesitating, I combed through Rascal’s fur. “Gage broke it off.”
The phone rang the second I pressed ‘end.’ Ivy’s number and smiling face blinked. Managing a hello through the lump in my throat, I squeezed my eyes shut, refusing to let the waterworks begin again.
“Are you okay, honey?”
I nodded and then realized my friend couldn’t see the gesture. “Yeah. Just sad.” Sad was such an understatement that my eyes betrayed me with more tears.
“He’s an idiot.” The three words were so vehemently spit through the speakers of the
“I’m not capable of a relationship right now.”
“What are you saying? Did that come out in therapy?”
“No!” His eyes widened a fraction, visibly shocked at the question and then a resigned look glazed them. “Look.” For a second he seemed on the verge of pulling me to him, and his next words were gentle. “Can we just end this for now, without a lot of talking? Just put everything on hold, and then do our talking when we’re not hiding out in a barn?”
Holding his gaze, I stood as if in a trance. “Fine. My flight tomorrow is not until six. Call me and―”
“I won’t. I won’t call. Change it for an earlier one. Go ahead back to the house and go about your life like there’s no me rotting away back here.”
I’d been on the verge of slapping him or breaking down in tears. Which, I wasn’t sure. Now, I worried and sank to his level again. “Do they have you on some meds?”
His eyes had strayed, but they snapped to mine. “No. This is me. All me. Telling you we’re done for now.”
“Fine.” I wanted to scream every hateful curse in my vocabulary at him. More so, I wanted to scream them at myself. He was a fucking rock star. They were all nuts, and I’d known that going in. What an idiot I’d been to convince myself the boy, who’d once been my ally against the world and against my mother, was still inside the man who had just fucked me both physically and emotionally. “I don’t want to talk about it either. So don’t worry.” I hated messy split ups.
God. Is that what we’re doing? Breaking up?
“I’ll talk to you when I talk to you, I guess.” I stood as I talked and clenched my phone as if it were a lifeline. “I’m going to see if I can get a red-eye out. Maybe I can get back before Colt goes to bed.” I moved toward the stairs. And suddenly he was there, in my face.
“Fuck you, Scarlette.”
“No. Fuck you!”
His lips curved, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, you did. And I’m the best you’ll ever have. You know it.”
“Asshole. Let me go!”
He looked down and seemed startled to see his hands curled around my upper arms. Immediately, he released and I shot down the stairs so fast, I hit my head on the wall as I rounded the corner.
Chapter 11
T he warmth of the shower raining down over my skin relaxed me enough that my tears finally poured. I’d been dry eyed for almost twenty-four hours, through the overnight hotel stay—I hadn’t made good on my threat to take an earlier flight. Through the flight home, I’d dozed—exhausted from tossing and turning, expecting him to give in and call. I’d let myself into the house and played a few minutes with Rascal before going upstairs to wash the travel-grime feel from my body.
The dam of emotion might have remained intact longer had I not been reading the lyrics on the tile as I lathered my hair.
‘Forever Scarred’ broke me. There were only six verses in Gage’s distinctive scrawl. But his feelings and intentions at that time of our relationship shone through.
After drying off, I carelessly let the towel fall, pulled on one of his tee shirts and a pair of black Diesel boxers, and climbed into the bed with Rascal. Still sniffling, I dialed Ivy.
Voicemail greeted me and I spoke. “Hi. I just got back. Call me when you can.” Hesitating, I combed through Rascal’s fur. “Gage broke it off.”
The phone rang the second I pressed ‘end.’ Ivy’s number and smiling face blinked. Managing a hello through the lump in my throat, I squeezed my eyes shut, refusing to let the waterworks begin again.
“Are you okay, honey?”
I nodded and then realized my friend couldn’t see the gesture. “Yeah. Just sad.” Sad was such an understatement that my eyes betrayed me with more tears.
“He’s an idiot.” The three words were so vehemently spit through the speakers of the
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