CRASH & BURN (Rule Breaker) Read Online Free Page B

She heard Jonathan’s voice thank someone. In turn a man answered, saying something about a delivery. The outer door closed and there was no more talk, nor any sound of another person entering the suite.
    Alana walked back to the vanity counter and wiped a hand towel down the mirror, clearing the fog caused by the shower. Opening drawers, she scouted for a comb as her heart rate continued to beat in triple speed. The bathroom had every imaginable necessity and much more. She picked up a bottle filled with pills. Her gaze traveled through the cabinet, overstocked with hair and skin products, stopping briefly to consider the immense assortment of medications—a regular drugstore, complete with prescription drugs for anxiety and sleeplessness like the one in her hand.
    No painkillers or speed, but if her allergies kicked up, she’d be set. She put the bottle back on the shelf. Drugs weren’t her bag. She’d seen too many glamour girls and guys, rolling high on stage, and sure, some singers could hold their own straight or messed up. She was not one of them.
    She clutched a packet with a wide-tooth comb. Brand new. Ripping off the outer plastic wrap, she wondered how Christy had fared last night. Her friend teetered on a perilous edge. Alana had helped her friend pick up the pieces of her life after a bout of men and drugs had taken their toll. Christy had gotten clean. A year so far, and no drugs. None of the members in Orion indulged openly after Christy’s last run-in with drugs. That pricey mess had resulted in a series of missed gigs and cost the band much-needed cash.
    At least Alana had won a concession from every member in Orion last night that, while in Nashville, they’d stay clean and virtually sober. They’d all agreed that boozing, dope, and drugs would hurt their shot at success. This was the line she walked, and sometimes dragged her best friend along, since arriving. The battle-of-the-bands in Nashvegas had an unspoken rule: rock hard—on and off stage.
    She’d worried about Christy and would phone her as soon as she finished getting dressed.
    A double-knock on the bathroom door broke into her thoughts. “I’ve some things for you. Where do you want me to place them?” Jonathan asked, without pushing through the already partially-cracked door.
    Just the sound of his voice had her nipples tightening and she held her breath, wishing he’d appear.
    But he stayed put on the other side of the door. She guessed he didn’t dare enter, not after the last time. His raging anger almost had her begging him to just do it. Fuck her up against the bathroom wall. Two weeks, and she couldn’t see how to get through a single day without coming unglued in Jon’s presence. It’s not as though she could pretend he didn’t exist.
    Alana wrapped a towel around herself and then opened the bathroom door, combing her fingers through her hair. She took in that he was fully dressed. “That was fast. Good on your word.”
    “I guessed on your size and glanced inside your boot for your shoe size. If not a match, there are shops down on the mezzanine level below.”
    She forewent reminding him that those shops, near as they were, more than likely were closed. Still, he handed over a fancy, heavy-as-hell shopping bag stuffed to the brim. “Looks like there’s a whole lot more than just one outfit in here. Thanks. Is this considered a recoupable cost?”
    He raised an eyebrow. “Are you kidding?”
    “I’m serious. I can’t spend money from the band’s royalties on my own personal items. How is that fair?”
    “I meant that no, these aren’t expenses I’m charging against your royalties. How much of a dick do you think I am? Never mind. Don’t answer that one. Whatever you find in that bag to your liking, consider it a gift.”
    “I didn’t mean to imply…it’s just that we’ve had a few rough breaks over the last year.” She glimpsed some of the contents within the open bag, admiring the expensive clothing