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That’s why I became someone new.
Chapter One
Sydney
“Hey, sweet cheeks, I’m outta here,” Graham yells through the bathroom door. I finish twisting the towel around my head and stand up, the humidity from my hot shower encasing me.
“Alright, love. See you later tonight.”
I turn the music up loud enough to shake the walls. The upbeat thumping helps drown out the nervous energy. One would think over a year would make things easier. It hasn’t. Rather, it’s built a skyscraper out of my lies. Each day has built another floor, hiding me inside of it. People assume they know me.
They don’t have a clue.
I warm up my voice as I put my false eyelashes on. Nothing but the best for one of the most important nights of my life. Jude Stonewall is coming to the show and I can’t screw it up. Butterflies flutter in my stomach, knowing I’ll be on stage in front of one of the top music producers in Los Angeles. This is the moment I’ve dreamt of since I was a little girl.
At what cost though?
Rushing around my room from dresser to closet, letting the music move me, I grab everything I need to get dressed. I glance at the clock. Graham’s voice echoes in my mind, tonight is not the night to be running late.
One last glimpse in the full-length mirror and I freeze. I’m still not used to seeing the woman staring back. She looks nothing like the woman from a year ago. She’s glamorous, sexy, a star. She’s my shield. I turn away. When I stare too long, I think about the old me and I don’t have time for that. My future hangs on tonight.
I blow out a breath. It’s showtime, Sky.
“Who’s the guy?”
I yelp and jump at the deep masculine voice coming from the teal velvet chair in the corner of the living room. My eyes widen when they meet steel- blue eyes. Max Shaw. One of my dead fiancé’s best friends. I hold my hand over my heart. The beats so hard I’m having a tough time catching my breath. How did he get in? I glance at the front door to make sure I still have one. My lips pucker, annoyed that he finds that funny. He breaks into my home and then laughs at me for being alarmed. Jerk!
“You’ve lost your touch in hiding your jealousy,” I sneer, but instantly regret my words when his laugh falls off his face, hitting a nerve.
“Bitch doesn’t look good on you, Tink.” He pushes his massive frame off the chair and it’s not until then I see Moxi was in his lap. I glare at her. Traitor. Figures the cat who hates everyone, likes him. Max stalks toward me.
I take a couple steps back and shrug, acting aloof. “I guess life has made me a little tougher.” My arms cross over my chest and I stand taller, which still doesn’t compare to the six-foot Hulk size man towering over me. The hard shell I’ve put up around my heart begs to shatter. Begs to be let loose to feel again. But I can’t. The only feelings that will pour out will kill me, and Max being here is already tapping on that fragile shell. His eyes move down my body and back up in a scrutinizing stare.
“Who the hell are you trying to be?”
Anger simmers under my skin. “Asshole doesn’t look good on you,” I say sarcastically. “Oh wait, you’ve always been an asshole.”
“At least I’m not pretending to be something I’m not.” He pulls on my long blonde hair extensions like a five-year-old. “You’ve got more makeup on than a drag-queen.” Despite the accuracy, it stings coming from him. Why do I care?
“Why are you here, Max? If you’re looking to make me feel bad, mission accomplished.” I storm out of the room. I hear his heavy sigh, and then loud footsteps follow.
“Sydney, stop. I’m sorry.”
I pinch my eyes closed and freeze. It’s the first time I’ve heard my real name in almost a year. The foreignness of it surprises me. I spin around, ready for a fight. His eyes soften as he continues to get closer.
Tap, tap, tap.
I fight the tears welling up in my eyes. Asshole Max was easier to deal with. “Max, go home,” I plead, my voice shakes.
“No.” Warm, strong arms wrap around me and I relent, digging my face into his taut chest.
Tap, tap, tap.
“She misses you,” he murmurs into my hair.
Crack.
My heart explodes, raw feelings that I buried long ago, pour out. I grip his shirt to hold on as my sobs rip through me. I miss her too. She’s been my best friend since we were ten. I’m not surprised that he’s here because of her. When I left, my plans were never to make my home here or to stop talking to her. I just needed a break. There was so much that happened all at once; guilt, resentment, and jealousy were destroying me. But it was easier to hide than deal with it. The loss, the heartache, the pain. Everything. I became a shell of my old self, building a new one in its place that included a guarded heart.
