As soon as she closed the door, she heard his footsteps carrying him to the spot outside of the guest room. “Mel. Let me in.”
“No.” She worked to modulate her voice. “It’s okay.”
Something full, like his forehead, bumped the door.
“Everything is fine. I’m just ready for bed.”
“Everything isn’t fine, Mel.”
“It is. I promise.”
A few seconds ticked by. “I’m sorry I couldn’t . . . that I don’t know how to share that with you. If I could be with anyone when it happens, it would be you.”
Melody’s throat was too tight to respond. Feeling painfully exposed, she climbed into bed and wrapped herself in the covers, burying her face in the pillow. What had just happened? Had her orgasm turned him off? Had she been too eager? Had she come across as desperate? That last one made her cringe into the pillow.
A few seconds later, Beat’s heavy footsteps carried him back to his bedroom, the door shutting with a note of frustration, leaving them separated by more than one kind of wall.
Chapter Fifteen
December 16
Beat paced in front of his apartment door. 5:50 a.m. and Melody still hadn’t come out of the guest room. He could hear her moving around in there. What was her plan? Walk out at six on the dot so they would be on camera and not have to talk about what happened last night?
He’d approached the door once already with the intention of knocking, so they could have a face-to-face discussion without the glowing red light blinking two feet away and Danielle’s pen scratching on her clipboard. But what the hell could he say to make the situation better? He needed to figure it out, because they had eight more days in close quarters—and he really should be less grateful and turned on thinking about that. Hours spent together in the back of a dark SUV. And later tonight, more chances to be alone.
More chances to fuck up this friendship he was valuing more by the minute.
A quiet cough on the other side of Melody’s door made his pulse skip, followed by the sound of her uncapping lipstick, if he wasn’t mistaken. God, then he couldn’t think of anything but her mouth. Kissing Melody was like a welcome home party in a place he’d never be lucky enough to call his home. It was trespassing. He’d had no right teasing open those lips so wide or sweeping his tongue that deep. Getting his hips good and notched between her thighs, so she could push down and pulse and get him so goddamn horny he’d nearly lost his grip on control.
That had never happened. Not once.
Beat always finished alone. The pleasure was measured and drawn out for maximum suffering, but he never stayed for the end. That was done on his own time. Being vulnerable like that with someone? No. He didn’t trust anyone enough. But . . . he’d never faced anyone like Melody. That darkening of her cheekbones and the stutter of her breath, the uncontrollable trembling. The trust she seemed to have in him. Their bond that was so tangible, it almost didn’t make sense. He’d felt the signs of her release straight through his pants and she’d almost ended him, then and there.
He’d hurt her feelings by backing off, withholding himself, which was the absolute last thing he would ever do intentionally. Why did he have to be so magnetized to someone he had the ability to hurt?
They needed to talk now.
This standoff was no good.
If he had to go the entire day without knowing where they stood, he was going to do something ill-advised, like give into frustration and hash it out in front of a worldwide audience.
Beat squared his shoulders and started to cross the apartment toward the guest room. Before he could take a single step, though, a knock sounded on the door.
He raked a hand through his hair. “Of course, you’re early—” He broke off when he opened the door. Because instead of finding Danielle and Joseph, his blackmailer was leaning against the doorjamb. Ice formed an immediate layer on Beat’s skin, his heart slingshotting up into his throat. Apart from shock, he had one thought and one thought only.
Keep him away from Melody.
“What are you doing here?” Beat asked, pushing him out into the hallway and closing the door behind him. “How did you get up here?”
“How else? Candy bars. Thanks to the live stream, the secret is out.”
“We agreed you would never come here.”
The man’s smug smile didn’t slip one iota. “You haven’t been answering your phone,” he drawled. “How else am I supposed to reach you?”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Oh, I’ve heard. Everyone has. Your little project is all anyone can talk about.”
“Did you come here to congratulate me?” Beat asked. “After all, I wouldn’t be doing the show if it wasn’t for you.”
“Bullshit, Beat. I know the amount of cash Ovations rakes in every year in donations. It’s a matter of public record. You didn’t need to participate in some reality show to pay me.”
“I don’t use the foundation money to shut you up. I use my own.” Beat leaned in and got in the drummer’s face. “The Ovations money goes toward scholarships for talented people. Not opportunists disguising themselves as artists.”
That smile turned brittle. “I’d tread carefully if I were you.”
“You’re not me. We’re nothing alike, thank God.”
“Personality-wise? Maybe.” He stroked his chin. “Genetically? That’s another story.”
All at once, Beat felt like he’d been box jumping for an hour straight.
Melody was in the apartment and he wanted this slimeball a million miles away from her. Away from his family. Unfortunately, he wasn’t done with Fletcher Carr yet. He might never be, if he wanted to keep the secret of his paternity right here. Between the two of them. Where it couldn’t hurt anyone or drag his mother’s name through the mud.
“Real heartwarming scene last night, the whole family gathered for your mother’s annual ego trip. Your”—he performed air quotes—“father still has the wool pulled over his eyes when it comes to your mother. If only he knew.”
“Get out,” Beat clipped. “Get out of the building and don’t come here again. Whether I have to secure a loan or we make this gig happen, I’ll have the money by Christmas, as agreed upon. There is no reason for you to keep contacting me.”
“Isn’t there?” The blackmailer stepped into Beat’s space and his skin shrunk in around his bones. “One of these days, you’re going to think about getting brave, maybe letting the truth come out. I think these little visits from me remind you exactly how little you want people to know that I’m your real father. Not the man everyone thinks it is. Not the man who thinks your mother was faithful from the day they met.”
A ring tightened around his jugular. “I said, get out.”
Beat’s blackmailer sauntered backward with a skin-crawling laugh. “Have fun with Trina—that crazy bitch.” He spun toward the staircase and threw open the door. “I’ll be watching with a bowl of popcorn.”
The blanket of silence after the stairwell door snicked shut was deafening. Instinct begged Beat to go back inside the apartment, knock on the guest room door, and tell Melody everything. The relief of having her on his side would be incredible. He could almost feel the burden toppling off his shoulders. But it would land right on top of hers—and he couldn’t do that. Not after he’d already brought Wreck the Halls to her doorstep. Not after last night, when he’d hurt her by backing off at the last second. Melody was a rare, perfect bright spot in his life and if he piled too much of his shit on top of her, he’d dull that luminous glow.