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He needed to get off this train of thought. It wasn’t helpful to her at all. And hadn’t that been his entire goal in getting her out of that situation? To help?
“You think you’re done hurling?” he asked, changing the subject.
She snickered. “Yeah. It wasn’t what I’d had to drink so much as…” Her voice faded out and he glanced at her. She took a breath and cleared her throat. “I throw up when I get overly emotional. It’s a fatal flaw,” she tried to joke.
He studied her for a beat, debating what to share.
“I have panic attacks when I kidnap people,” he said soberly.
Her resulting smile made most of what he’d gone through worth it.
The last lingering worries he had been clinging to, drifted away.
She was safe and she was okay.
That was enough.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
CHAPTER TWO
STATE OF THE ART
ZARA
Outwardly she was fine.
Quiet, but fine.
Inside, her head was a mess. A tangle of thoughts and feelings and so very many regrets.
Right now, she should be playing lemon mouth at the bar with her peers.
She should be proud of her win. Happy, celebratory, grateful. Those were the things she should be feeling. But those things were overshadowed by Logan’s bullshit. Again.
Any other time, any other night, any other place, and she’d still be there. Right by his side, quietly begging him to keep his voice down and agreeing to go home early.
It had been their first public appearance in months. After a lengthy and private separation, she’d agreed to try one more time. She’d deferred to his security instead of her own.She’d worn the dress he liked best; she’d kept her red-carpet comments to a minimum so he wouldn’t feel left out. Trying to prove she wasn’t what he accused her of. She could compromise. It didn’t have to be her way all the time.
And in return, he’d mocked her for her wins. Implied she’d performed sexual favors to get them and then laughed because that couldn’t be true. She was so bad at sex that it was comical. He had been joking. He was always joking.
He’d pointed out every woman who was more beautiful than her, every artist thatshouldhave won in her category. He grumbled about the entire thing being rigged.
But she’d held her head high, put on her best smile, and tried to tune out his negative remarks.
Until she couldn’t.
He said the Album of the Year was partially his since he helped her write it. He’d said it in front of important people. People she respected and who she wanted to respect her.
The rest of it twisted into a blur of anger and confusion. She remembered yelling but she couldn’t remember what she’d said.
And then all the swirling and confusion stopped when someone had grabbed her hand.
She knew his name now. Asa.
“I got you,” he’d said. His hand warm around hers, his dark eyes sure and confident.
Her stomach had already twisted itself into knots and she needed to get somewhere to be alone until it passed. Somewhere safe.
