His response pisses me off, so I hang up.

Her phone rings immediately.

“This is Sonya,” she answers like whoever’s ringing her doesn’t know who they called.

“Yes, he’s still”—she pauses and looks at me, then turns to face the wall—“fucked up.”

I know immediately it’s Memphis.

“Well, I was supposed to be there and—” She pauses, and I strain my ears to listen. “I understand. No, it’s fine. I’ll email Tally the updates on the performers. I worked on some more numbers during the flight.” She stops again. “See you then.”

She hangs up, and her head hangs low. Then she takes in a deep breath and turns to me. “They are heading straight to the radio station to meet with the DJ who went over the audition tapes. They prefer you stay here.”

“I prefer that, too.”

She looks at me like I’m stupid. “You do know that most of these local acts have followings.”

I nod. “That’s great.”

The elevator door opens, and I push myself off the wall and motion for her to go ahead of me. “Ladies first.”

She gives me a frustrated glance and storms out.

At a door, she slides the key through the slot and opens it, and I follow her in.

“Wow,” she whispers and looks back at me. “Do you always travel like this?”

I look around the suite. There are cream-colored walls and a dark, hardwood floor. Straight ahead is a dining room table, the wood matching the floor, and the chairs are upholstered cream with the same dark wood trim. To the left is a sitting area. Past it are double doors opening to a king-sized bedroom. To the right of the dining room is a small kitchenette, a bathroom, and another set of double doors leading to another bedroom. Straight ahead is a wall of windows leading out to a large patio overlooking the river.

“No,” I answer. “It’s a little much.”

“Nice, though.” She walks to the kitchenette where she grabs two glasses and fills them with water from the sink. She turns and walks toward me. “You hungry?”

I take the glass of water she offers before asking, “You bipolar?”

“You’re kidding me? I am being nice.” She starts to walk away, and I grab her elbow.

“Thank you for the drink, Sonya.”

She turns to look back at me.

“But in the elevator, you were pissed. Outside, you were borderline rude—”

“I didn’t—”

“In the cab, you were nice. The plane … Well, one minute bitch, the next hot and bothered—”

“You have some nerve, Finn Be—”

“Then you were pretty fucking cool getting me out of there. Stand there and get pissed all you want, but it’s a legitimate fucking question. Do you have a mental health issue that would better explain the epic fucking mood swings?”

“I don’t have a mental health issue! You, however, have an innate ability to make me crazy! You got on the plane high, all but undressed me with your eyes, stole my sucker right out of my mouth, took pills, and couldn’t even walk, so I had to help you. In the cab, I was nice; you’re right. Then we get here, and you all but fall out of the damn thing. And I have to check us in because you’re all messed up.” Her hands flail in the air. “Then I can’t find you, and I worry that you’re out there, either lying on the damn cement or wandered off somewhere like a child.” She stops and looks at me like I am going to fight back.

Instead, I say nothing. I want her to keep going.

“Nothing? You have nothing to say?” Her hands slam down on her hips.

“I have a lot I could say, Sonya, but why bother? I’m tired. There are a couple beds in here. I’m gonna pick one, climb in it, and you’re going to do some self-reflection and get over this little foot stomping tantrum and come at me like an adult with some fucking truth or leave me the hell alone. You are pushing the wrong fucking man,” I say as I walk toward the bedroom on the left.

“Is that a threat?” she asks.

I keep walking. “No. Not a fucking threat. Figure out the reason your panties are damp every time you’re around me. Probably when you’re not and just thinking about me and what I do to you physically and emotionally. Then one of two things needs to happen.” I stop and turn around, and I swear she’s so angry she’s almost purple.

I pull off my shirt, kick off my shoes, drop my jeans, kick them off, turn, and climb in bed. “You either step up or step off.”

“You’re an ass!” I can’t help screaming as Finn climbs in bed completely nude and unashamed. Not that he has any reason to be ashamed, but well … “And a-a—”

He sits up and the blanket drops, exposing his very, very nice chest as he fluffs his pillow before looking at me, “Asleep in five unless you have other plans.”

“Like smothering you with a pillow?”

His eyebrow arches. “Told ya.”

“Told me what?” I literally stomp and then am mocked and rewarded with that damn grin.

“You’re either gonna fuck me or kill me.” He lies back and throws his hand over his face. “When you and your … other personalities figure it out, let me know, would ya? This shit is getting old, and I have other options.”

“Other options?” I clench my fists, hoping my nails pushing into my skin will make me less explosive.

“Yeah. Told you I wanted to fuck you.” He yawns, which further irritates me. “Told you I’d only fuck you, and you lost your mind. Find it and climb in, or shut it down, Sonya. I need some sleep.”

“So you’re telling me, if I don’t fuck you, you’d just take—” I stop immediately when he springs up out of bed and starts storming at me.

I can’t move as he swoops me up, too shocked to fight. He marches into the bedroom and drops me on the bed. As he leans over me, the intensity in his eyes scares me and warms me at the same time. The closer he comes, the more I retreat until I am lying on the bed.

He sighs, closing his eyes. His head dips and his forehead touches mine, his hair falling in my face.

“I’m in a bad place right now, but there is no fucking reason for you to look at me like I’m terrifying you.”

“But you are,” I whisper.

He groans, pushes himself up, and rolls to his side. “I need sleep, Sonya. I need sleep and peace. Give me at least one of those things, and I won’t ask for anything else.”

My heart is beating against my chest. I’m sure it’s going to tear through it. I hold my hand over it, making sure it doesn’t happen.

He rolls over so he can get under the covers, and I look over once he’s settled to see he is looking at me as if waiting for an answer.

When I can’t give him one, he lies back.

“I’m sorry I stole your sucker.”

I shake my head. “Sleep, Finn.”

He yawns again. “Will I wake up to another battle?”

“No,” I answer.

“Thank you.”

After a few silent moments, I dare to look over. His face rests peacefully against the stark white pillowcase; his long, thick, jet-black lashes fan under his eyes exquisitely; and his hair is in his eyes.

My finger aches to push it away; my lips beg to kiss the tightly trimmed beard covering his cheek. My heart hurts because I want so badly to hold him against my chest and apologize while soothing my need to hold something close and tight like I used to with Noah.

I know better than to act, though. I know better than to allow myself to feel drawn to him. It can only end badly, but I can’t stop. It won’t go away. He won’t let it.

I was so stupid for coming here, so stupid for agreeing to this, wanting this.

I know enough through the journal to know he is like two different men. Her dark and her light. As confusing as her ramblings were, I could now understand better.

I give in to temptation and push the hair off his face, and he lets out a deep breath then takes in a slow one. I kiss my finger and toy with the idea of touching it to his plump pink lips, like I did to Noah before I fell asleep each night while he lay sleeping peacefully asleep.