you doing here, Sapphire?”
She stammered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know---I was looking, and then I saw…” She stopped speaking, realizing she wasn’t making any sense at all.
The other man Alan was with didn’t look like a dancer, with dorky glasses and a rather scrawny build. He looked more like a cute grad school student, someone who absolutely had no business traveling with a European rockstar on tour.
Seeing her staring, he offered her his hand. “Hi. I’m Donovan,” he said with a slightly strained smile.
They shook hands. “I’m...”
“Sapphire March,” Alan muttered. “The girl with the worst kind of luck---”
“Alan!” Donovan snapped when he saw the look of hurt flash over Sapphire’s face.
Alan had the grace to look shamefaced. Running an agitated hand through his hair, he muttered, “Sorry, Sapphire.”
“It is true anyway.”
Alan looked even guiltier. “Dammit, Sapphire, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean it.” He gestured to Donovan. “I’m just…what we have, who we are, it’s a secret.”
She nodded, having already deduced the same thing for herself the moment she saw the two kissing in the dark. “I promise I won’t tell.” She paused. “But please---don’t tell Staffan the truth about me either?”
Alan’s eyebrows shot up. “You mean he doesn’t know who you are?”
She had to smile. “Don’t sound so surprised, Alan. Being a Senator’s daughter doesn’t make me famous.”
“But you’re also Steel and Silver March’s kid sister.”
“Their very boring sister, who used to be the black sheep of the entire March clan.”
Alan flushed. At that moment, he remembered with uncomfortably vivid clarity how life had been like for Saffi back when they were kids. No one had wanted to talk to her because they hadn’t wanted to look stupid next to Saffi, who had completed high school when she was 12 and college at 16.
Back then, the most popular girl in their circle, Vania Coolidge, had loved humiliating Saffi. And all of them had stood by because it had been easier to do that. Saffi had made it harder for them to help her, with her eccentricities.
His lips twitched when he remembered the first words she said. “Murderous mackerel, Sapphire?”
She smiled sheepishly. “Yes, I still think of fish when I’m overly emotional or whatever.”
Alan tried not to look too guilty at her words. He had indirectly been one of the reasons why Saffi had been so “emotional” in those days. Even at a young age, Saffi had been already lovely, too, inside and out. Everything about her was the opposite of what rich kids were supposed to be. She had never held a grudge against any of them, not even after what happened during their graduation ball, with Saffi as the guest of honor---Alan shuddered. It still qualified as the most horrible night of his life.
A loud pounding on the door made them jump in surprise.
“What the---” Donovan exclaimed.
“Are you fucking in there, H?”
Saffi squeaked in shock.
Knowing he only had seconds to spare, Alan hissed, “Remember your promise!”
“I promise. And you promise, too.”
Alan nodded. “I keep my word, Sapphire.”
Her eyes widened at the name he used. “Alan! Don’t call me---” She ended up shrieking instead when the door smashed open. Rather, Staffan had kicked it open. He came in, looking beautiful and furious in a three-piece suit. How was it possible for a human being to be so swooningly exquisite? He really was Mr. Rockstar Chic.
Staffan’s eyes found hers, the emotions swirling in it making her swallow.
Well, make that Mr. Angry Rockstar Chic.
“I can explain,” she said in a small voice.
“Really?” he drawled out. It was all Staffan could manage since every part of him was itching to smash Carson’s face. And what the fuck was Donovan Bradley doing here? What the fuck had he walked into – a goddamn ménage a trois?
“We were just talking.
She stammered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know---I was looking, and then I saw…” She stopped speaking, realizing she wasn’t making any sense at all.
The other man Alan was with didn’t look like a dancer, with dorky glasses and a rather scrawny build. He looked more like a cute grad school student, someone who absolutely had no business traveling with a European rockstar on tour.
Seeing her staring, he offered her his hand. “Hi. I’m Donovan,” he said with a slightly strained smile.
They shook hands. “I’m...”
“Sapphire March,” Alan muttered. “The girl with the worst kind of luck---”
“Alan!” Donovan snapped when he saw the look of hurt flash over Sapphire’s face.
Alan had the grace to look shamefaced. Running an agitated hand through his hair, he muttered, “Sorry, Sapphire.”
“It is true anyway.”
Alan looked even guiltier. “Dammit, Sapphire, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean it.” He gestured to Donovan. “I’m just…what we have, who we are, it’s a secret.”
She nodded, having already deduced the same thing for herself the moment she saw the two kissing in the dark. “I promise I won’t tell.” She paused. “But please---don’t tell Staffan the truth about me either?”
Alan’s eyebrows shot up. “You mean he doesn’t know who you are?”
She had to smile. “Don’t sound so surprised, Alan. Being a Senator’s daughter doesn’t make me famous.”
“But you’re also Steel and Silver March’s kid sister.”
“Their very boring sister, who used to be the black sheep of the entire March clan.”
Alan flushed. At that moment, he remembered with uncomfortably vivid clarity how life had been like for Saffi back when they were kids. No one had wanted to talk to her because they hadn’t wanted to look stupid next to Saffi, who had completed high school when she was 12 and college at 16.
Back then, the most popular girl in their circle, Vania Coolidge, had loved humiliating Saffi. And all of them had stood by because it had been easier to do that. Saffi had made it harder for them to help her, with her eccentricities.
His lips twitched when he remembered the first words she said. “Murderous mackerel, Sapphire?”
She smiled sheepishly. “Yes, I still think of fish when I’m overly emotional or whatever.”
Alan tried not to look too guilty at her words. He had indirectly been one of the reasons why Saffi had been so “emotional” in those days. Even at a young age, Saffi had been already lovely, too, inside and out. Everything about her was the opposite of what rich kids were supposed to be. She had never held a grudge against any of them, not even after what happened during their graduation ball, with Saffi as the guest of honor---Alan shuddered. It still qualified as the most horrible night of his life.
A loud pounding on the door made them jump in surprise.
“What the---” Donovan exclaimed.
“Are you fucking in there, H?”
Saffi squeaked in shock.
Knowing he only had seconds to spare, Alan hissed, “Remember your promise!”
“I promise. And you promise, too.”
Alan nodded. “I keep my word, Sapphire.”
Her eyes widened at the name he used. “Alan! Don’t call me---” She ended up shrieking instead when the door smashed open. Rather, Staffan had kicked it open. He came in, looking beautiful and furious in a three-piece suit. How was it possible for a human being to be so swooningly exquisite? He really was Mr. Rockstar Chic.
Staffan’s eyes found hers, the emotions swirling in it making her swallow.
Well, make that Mr. Angry Rockstar Chic.
“I can explain,” she said in a small voice.
“Really?” he drawled out. It was all Staffan could manage since every part of him was itching to smash Carson’s face. And what the fuck was Donovan Bradley doing here? What the fuck had he walked into – a goddamn ménage a trois?
“We were just talking.
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