Treat Me (One Night with Sole Regret #8) (22 page)

Shade was not in the mood for her sass. “This is my room. You get out!”

Nikki was more agreeable. She untangled herself from Melanie and stretched her arms over her head, showing off a strip of flat tanned belly at the hem of her tank top. “I guess I got to spend the night in Shade’s bed after all,” she said with a flirty smile.

And maybe Shade would have been better off with Nikki—or someone like her—in his bed. He’d have gotten his rocks off without the complications that came with emotional attachment. But even though Amanda had shredded his heart, he didn’t regret a single moment he’d spent with her. He had loved her.
Still
loved her.

Maybe she’d change her mind about him. Would it be better to pressure her or give her time and space?

What was he thinking? She’d made it perfectly clear that she wasn’t interested.

Oh hell, he didn’t know. When it came to women, he’d never had this problem before. He was usually the one pushing them away, not the other way around. And he knew how fucking annoying it was for him when a woman he didn’t want keep pestering him. It made him dislike her even more. How would he feel if he went after Amanda and her hated grew? Could he tolerate that?

Shade shook his head to clear it.

He didn’t need Amanda in his life. He would not swallow his pride and go after her. Fuck her.

He turned his attention to the undercurrent of drama in the room. Nikki seemed her regular chipper self, but Melanie was definitely out of sorts. Gabe seemed shocked by Nikki’s cheer. A bit puzzled himself, Shade couldn’t help but stare at the dark bruises on Nikki’s throat as she took Gabe’s keycard, patted him on the butt, and left to return to Gabe’s suite to get dressed.

“So what the hell happened?” Shade asked. “Owen said you two returned early from Austin, and there’s obviously something going on with Nikki.”

“I shouldn’t have left her by herself,” Melanie said, dragging a sheet from the bed to wrap around herself. She was wearing a nightgown, and it wasn’t as if Shade had never seen a woman in her nightgown before, but the cover seemed to offer some comfort.

“She hooked up with the wrong guy,” Gabe said. “An MMA fighter who wouldn’t take no for an answer. I tried to kick his ass, but…” He shrugged and pointed to his blackened eyes.

“He did that to her neck?” Shade asked.

“Not just her neck,” Gabe said.

“He fucking raped her!” Melanie shouted. “And no one was here to help her. She was all alone, lost in an unfamiliar city, broken and bruised.”

“Mel, you can’t blame yourself for what happened to Nikki,” Gabe said, pulling her into his arms.

Shade half expected her to pull away, but she didn’t. She melted into him and clung to his waist.

“Then who am I supposed to blame?”

“The fucking prick who hurt her.”

“I wish she would press charges against him,” Melanie said. “How could she let him walk?”

“I think she wants to forget it ever happened,” Gabe said.

“Or she thinks she deserved it,” Shade said. He’d spent enough time with Nikki to know how her mind worked. She had a victim mentality and until she figured out that she was in control of her destiny, life would continue to just happen to her.

“How can you say that? You’re such an asshole,” Melanie said. She shoved off Gabe’s chest so she could flee Shade’s odious presence.

“You really do bring out the worst in women,” Gabe said, shaking his head at Shade before he followed Melanie out of the suite and shut the door with a loud bang.

Shade had to agree with him. He’d turned Tina into a bitter bitch and Amanda into a heartless shrew. They’d both been perfectly wonderful women until they’d tangled with him.

Still fully clothed, he collapsed on the crumpled bed and at long last found the sleep that had eluded him. He felt almost human when he woke several hours later. It was still light out—so he wasn’t late for the show—and soon he realized that it was his rumbling stomach that had woken him. When had he last eaten? Sometime the day before. When he’d grilled burgers and brats for Julie and Amanda, he realized. Thinking of that happy time felt surreal. Had his world really been perfect just yesterday? He felt like he’d lost her a lifetime ago.

Shoving thoughts of Amanda aside—seriously, fuck her—he ordered room service and jumped into the shower while he waited for his food to arrive.

As water cascaded over his head and dripped from his jaw and the tip of his nose, he closed his eyes and tried to chase thoughts of Amanda from his head again. He didn’t want to think about her or picture her floating topless in his pool. He sure as hell didn’t want to continue to lust after her. He’d heard that absence made the heart grow fonder, but he was sure his dick would soon have other ideas. His need for her would diminish with time. Hopefully, real soon. How could he live with a huge achy hole in his chest where his heart had once beat strong and proud?

He was slipping into his leather pants when a knock sounded on the door. “Room service,” a woman called from the corridor.

He tucked his dick against his thigh, careful not to catch his bare skin as he zipped his fly, and went to the door shirtless. The young woman’s friendly smile was immediately replaced by slack-jawed gawking as her gaze roamed his exposed flesh. The dishes on the tray she carried rattled as she slumped against the door frame.

Her eyes lifted to meet his gaze, and he realized he wasn’t wearing his sunglasses. He quickly turned to remedy that oversight and swore the woman gasped the second his backside came into view. Normally he’d have used her obvious attraction to him to his advantage—he was confident that getting the raven-haired beauty naked between the sheets wouldn’t have been a challenge—but he honestly wasn’t in the mood.

“Just set it on the desk,” he said, sliding his shades into place and reaching for his wallet to offer the server a tip. It was apparent that she wanted more than a twenty when her hand touched the small of his back.

“If you’d like some company, it’s time for my dinner break,” she said.

Would he like some company? The image of Amanda laughing while sitting across the table from him entered his thoughts. That was the kind of company he wanted—the easy camaraderie and inside jokes, the warmth that glowed in his chest from being with her, and the knowledge that she liked him for himself and not because he was famous. But he’d been so wrong. So, so wrong. She
didn’t
like him. She had never loved him. She thought he was stupid, and he must be if he thought what they’d had could have amounted to anything. He’d never share those simple moments with her again. So maybe losing himself between the thighs of some other woman—one who would never matter to him—would soothe the ache in his chest that was suddenly climbing his throat and making his eyes sting.

Shade turned, took the young woman by the upper arms, and gazed into her eyes. Her breath caught and her body immediately went soft and submissive.

He could practically hear her thoughts.
Oh God, this is going to happen. I’m going to fuck Shade Silverton. I can’t wait to tell all my friends and my future grandchildren.
It was obvious she knew who he was and that was why she was offering herself as
company
.

He turned her toward the door and gave her a little shove so that she couldn’t mistake his disinterest. “Show yourself out,” he said, his voice taking on an authoritative edge. “And put out the Do Not Disturb sign. I’m not in the mood to be bothered by the help.”

She practically sprinted to the door, and just before she slammed it, she shouted, “You’re an asshole.”

Her words had no effect on his feelings. She wasn’t the first woman to call him that and he knew she wouldn’t be the last. Shade knew he was an asshole. It made his life a whole lot easier.

As she hadn’t followed his instructions, he went to the door and hung the Do Not Disturb sign. After closing the door, he flopped into the chair at the desk and uncovered his plate. Maybe his mood would lighten if he ate. Something needed to blow away the dark cloud brewing over his head. Sex was obviously out of the question.

While he shoveled rice into his mouth, his cellphone chimed when a new text message was delivered. His first thought was that it was from Amanda, so he scrambled after the device. The message and a whole string of others he’d missed either while sleeping or in the shower weren’t from Amanda. They were from Tina. His heart sank with disappointment, and he blew out a long breath before having his phone read the messages to him.

“I know I should call you to have this conversation,” the robotic tone of the app read aloud, “but I’m afraid I’ll lose my nerve, so here goes.

“What I said last night about still being in love with you, it’s true. I do still love you. I never stopped loving you. That was never the problem in our marriage. The problem was I couldn’t trust you.”

Shade rolled his eyes. She hadn’t even tried to trust him.

“I’ve been thinking maybe we should start over . . .”

Shade dropped his fork.
What?

“. . . and try to be a family again, you and me and Julie. I think we can make it work. Julie needs a stable environment.”

He did agree with that.

“And wouldn’t it be nice to come home to a loving wife and a happy home and see your daughter as often as you’d like? I know that’s what you want.”

It was exactly what he wanted. Strange how Tina recognized his need so clearly. He just didn’t want
her
to be that loving wife. Or the not so loving wife.

“Just think about it. Okay?”

He didn’t have to think about it. He didn’t want to be involved with Tina again. As much as it pained him, he was deeply in love with her heartbreaker of a sister. He lifted his phone and thumbed in a short reply:
No way in hell.
But he didn’t send it. He deleted it before tossing his phone on the bed so he didn’t have to look at it.

Why couldn’t he have what he really wanted?

Why couldn’t he have Amanda?

He glanced at his phone, wondering if it would do any good to call her. Maybe if he got his GED, she’d decide he wasn’t a complete idiot and consider him an equal. Or maybe Tina was the best he could hope for. She said she still loved him—that was something, wasn’t it? Amanda had never said the words. Obviously because she didn’t feel the way he felt.

Shade pushed his nearly untouched food aside and stood to pull on a shirt. He couldn’t stand to sit there alone trapped in his thoughts another moment. He needed to be surrounded by people he could depend on and who wouldn’t make him feel lower than a slug’s slime trail. He needed to be with the members of his band—his true friends. Or better yet, his fans.

After knocking on a few doors, he discovered that he was the only one staying at the hotel who hadn’t yet left for the venue. Had they tried to rouse him or didn’t they care that he was struggling?

No, that wasn’t fair. They didn’t know he was troubled. How could they if he didn’t show his distress around them?

Shade found a ride and smiled as the limo drove past the venue. The show wouldn’t start for hours, yet Sole Regret fans were already congregating outside the stadium and jockeying to be the first to enter so they could get prime general admission floor space close to the stage. Thousands—hell,
millions—
of people paid their hard-earned money to watch him perform. What did he care that some schoolteacher didn’t want to have anything to do with him? Fuck her.

Shade tapped on the window that separated him from the driver. The glass slid down. “Stop right here and let me out,” he said.

“Here?” The driver glanced anxiously at the black-wearing, tattooed, rough-looking crowd trying to peer through the tinted glass of the limo. “But—”

“Stop.”

As soon as the car stopped, he opened the door before the press of bodies could trap him inside. It occurred to him that he’d busted Adam’s balls for pulling a similar stunt a few days earlier. Crowds could quickly get out of control; Shade knew that. They also stroked his deflated ego; Shade needed that. He realized too late that he should have contacted his security team for assistance
before
he’d stepped out of the car. But he could command an entire stadium full of badass metal heads to jump and they fucking jumped, so how different could this situation be?

Once the crowd figured out that he planned to stay for a while and that he was genuinely interested in giving all of them some personal attention, they stopped trying to flatten him against the side of the car. Women wanted him, men wanted to be him, and not a single fan made him feel like he wasn’t good enough. Their excitement and adulation lifted his spirits into the stratosphere—made him feel like a god. And he loved them for it. He’d been right, not that he was surprised. Shade was the persona he needed to cling to in order to feel good about himself. Jacob could go fuck himself.

Seeing as that loser got dumped every time he fell in love, masturbation
was
his best option.

Shade’s phone vibrated in his pocket with the delivery of a text. His heart raced with anticipation. Amanda?

He scowled. Why was that his first thought every time he got a text? Fuck her.