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"You see? That's my point. I'm not a fuck once to get it out of my system kind of girl. I get that's what you are used to, but that's not me." I say, thinking back on my conversation with the band about Katarina. "Sure, it would probably be incredible. You could probably make me feel things that I didn't even know I could feel. But at the end of the night, I would regret it. I would regret letting myself get so caught up in the elusive Ryan Knox that I compromised who I am. Plus, we have to deal with each other for the next three months. Do you really want to be stuck with your one-night stand for the rest of the tour? I sure as hell don't."
He stares at me, completely stunned. He opens his mouth to speak but shuts it quickly.
"Now, if you don't mind, I am going to bed now. We have a big day tomorrow. Thank you for walking me to my room." My voice is confident now, all traces of uncertainty long gone.
I turn on my heel and begin to walk into the room, but his hand catches mine, and he pulls me into his body. My heart stops, and when I look up at him, there is something different about the way he is looking back at me.
"You're different than most women. You know that?" he says in a hushed tone. "I know you think you've just put me in my place, but all you've done is make me want you more."
"W-what?" I stammer, instantly hating that I can't form a coherent sentence. Hating his effect on me. I’m dwarfed by his massive frame, and suddenly all that confidence from seconds ago is gone.
His breathing has become more rapid, and I can feel his heart hammering against his chest.
"I'm not trying to play hard to get, Ryan. I'm serious. I meant what I said." I try again to regain my composure, but my body is betraying me with every second I am in his arms.
"I know, that's exactly what is driving me fucking crazy right now." His grip on me loosens, and he tilts my chin up so that I have to face him again. "I'll respect it, but that doesn't mean I'll like it."
Still unsure of what to say, I nod. When he finally releases me, the loss of contact causes physical discomfort. Even though I know I'm doing the right thing, it feels so damn wrong. All I want to do right now is say, "fuck it" and pull him into my room. I want to let him do unspeakable things to me, to make me come over and over again until the regret doesn't even matter anymore.
It does matter, though. I know that if I give in, it will be me who ends up getting hurt when he drops me like a bad habit the next day. It would be me that hurts every day after that when I have to work with him and pretend nothing happened.
"Goodnight, Juliet," he says as he walks away from my doorway and towards his own.
"Goodnight, Ryan," I reply, almost in a whisper.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ryan
Part of me wonders if it’s the sharp sting of rejection making my head spin with thoughts of her, but deep down, I know that isn’t true. Juliet Warren has consumed me, body and soul since the first time she opened her pretty pink mouth backstage.
Every word, every movement, every single thing about her has me so fucking wound up I’m surprised I haven’t spontaneously combusted.
“I won’t fuck you.”
Her words play on a loop in my mind as I pace the length of my suite.
I told her I would respect that, and I will. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t fucking suck.
It isn’t like her reasons aren’t valid.
She does work for me, and mixing business and pleasure is a pile of shit no one should be eager to step in.
She’s also right about her professional reputation.
If word ever got out about our little tryst in the sheets, she could be fired. Or blacklisted. Or both.
You don’t exactly have the best reputation with women, either.
I roll my eyes at the voice in the back of my mind reminding me that I haven’t always treated the ladies in my life the best, especially the ones I’ve met since the band got big.
No matter how badly I want her, I know it’s wrong. But that doesn’t do much to appease the need. All it does is fuel my fire, and me? Well, I like a challenge.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Juliet
The next morning was a blur. If I thought everything that had come before was a rush, it was nothing compared to this. The band nailed their press interviews, and when the horde of screaming fans chanted their names, they generously stopped to sign hundreds of autographs. It was incredible to see them be so adoring towards their fans, doting on them, and indulging their every request. When I previously thought of rock bands, it wasn’t the kindness I saw in front of me. Even the… well, weirder fans, like when a grown ass man asked Ryan to sign his bicep so he could get it tattooed on the next day.
