Page 18 of Unleashed By Eden

This is my turf, asshole. You don’t get to waltz in and throw me off my game.

Except he already has.

I set the tray on the bar a little too hard, sending a few bubbles leaping. Then I beeline for him.

“Why are you here?” I hiss, breaking Eden’s number one rule by keeping my eyes locked on his instead of dropping them like I’m supposed to.

His smile hits me first, and it’s so fucking bright it’s like I’ve just lit up his entire evening. It’s dangerous.

“I don’t like how we left things the other night.”

We didn’t leave anything. I left, actually. Left him surrounded by his fans and his ego and went back to my actual job and my date, who did not deserve to be hijacked by Carter Fucking Ashford. He turned one perfectly good work night into a mess.

“What?!” I whisper-shout. “I don’t care, Carter.”

“Well . . . I do.”

I should care, too. We’re about to spend ten months tripping over each other across continents, and the smart move would be to find some kind of neutral ground so we can at least tolerate breathing the same air.

Right now, I don’t have it in me.

“Carter, I’m working, okay? I can’t do this here.” I sigh, pushing out years of bullshit in one breath.

“Fine.” His gaze flicks around and lands on an available chair in the middle of the club. “I want you to serve me.”

The words get fucked dance on the tip of my tongue until I spot Madame Anna making her rounds.

He doesn’t look back to see if I’m following, just heads for the chair, knowing full well I don’t have a choice. I trail after him, my steps full of stomp and sulk, too annoyed to get it together.

He drops into the chair, reclining like a king getting comfortable, his eyes locking straight onto mine.

“Kneel.”

My chin lifts on instinct, teeth grinding.

This fucker has me exactly where he wants me.

Carter spreads his knees, making room, and I slowly lower myself between them. Every muscle in my body protests even as my brain reminds me that this is literally what I get paid to do. I keep my eyes on his, refusing to look down, refusing to give him that deference. Eden rules be damned.

It’s a staring contest now, a quiet little war over who flinches first. And it sure as fuck won’t be me. That infuriating mouth of his slides up at the corner. I want to slap it off his face and devour his lips at the same time.

His eyes flash with satisfaction.

“I’m leaving the day after tomorrow,” he says. “Performing tomorrow night, and I won’t be back for at least a year, probably more. I want to make things right before I go.” The smugness is gone from his face, wiped clean.

Years. He’s had years to make it right if he really cared or was even remotely cut up over it. Years to think about me just once while he was busy becoming the world’s biggest obsession.

“So?” I say, all attitude.

“Come to the show tomorrow night? I’ll leave you backstage passes, and we can hang out afterward. Talk.”

“No.”

He huffs out a breath, not quite a laugh. “Can I get your number at least?”

“No.”

“I can just get it from Liam, you know.”