Page 17 of Before You Fell

Jett does not smile. “Have you?”

“Are you checking on me or judging me?”

“Both.”

I huff a laugh that doesn’t quite make it out properly. “Helpful.”

“You know what happened last time, Wills.”

My stomach tightens. I’m aware that my body sometimes forgets it needs food and rest instead of being a machine for lyrics, deadlines, and men with God complexes.

“I’m fine, Jett.”

“That wasn’t the question.”

“Well it’s the only answer you’re going to get.”

His eyes stay on me, steady and far too gentle for a room this ugly. “Willow.”

I hate the way he says my name in his quiet voice because it sounds too much like concern. I would rather be a bitch than a wound with eyeliner on.

“I ate earlier,” I lie.

Jett holds my gaze for another moment, long enough for me to realize he knows it’s bullshit.

Damon ruins the moment with perfect timing and a five-thousand-dollar suit.

“Willow.”

I look up.

His smile is so polished I’m sure he practices it in a mirror between profit margins and soulless phone calls. “Can I borrow you for a moment?”

I already have a notion of what he wants. It is always the same thing with him.

“Sure,” I say.

He guides me away from the chairs, away from the guys and their little collection of backstage hookups with lip gloss and eye-liner. His hand barely touches my elbow, but somehow it still makes me feel handled.

That’s Damon for you. He never grabs, just directs. Men in power love making control look polite.

Near the wall of black road cases, he turns to me. “The label wants the new album moving faster.”

I stare at him.

“They want demos,” he adds.

“They always want demos.”

“They want pain, Willow.” His mouth tightens. “The show tonight proved what we already knew. The darker material is connecting. Phoenix bleeding your lyrics all over that stage is moving numbers everywhere. The audience wants more of that raw, intimate damage.”

Raw, intimate damage.

God, only Damon could make heartbreak sound like a quarterly report.

Damon’s eyes narrow slightly.

“We need to capitalize on the moment. You are brilliant, Willow. Truly.” His voice stays smooth, which somehow makes it worse. “But brilliance does nothing for anyone if it sits locked inside your notebook.”