The Million Dollar Virgin

Chapter Fourteen - Rian

Rian didn't think he would sleep. He didn't think he would do anything. Except maybe obsess about Stevie and whether or not she had a pen in her bedroom, that is. Somehow, though, he managed it. After literally hours of staring at the crack under his door, waiting for the envelope to appear, his eyes must've closed. Because he found himself opening them just as the sun came up, warm and familiar, through his tinted windows. For a second, he even felt the usual comfort he found in his favorite space. Then he remembered.

His gaze drifted to the floor near the door.

There it is.

The manila envelope sat just at the edge. Waiting for him to pick it up. Waiting for him to see how the girl who made his whole body writhe with want had signed her name on a life-altering, dotted line.

Yeah, I'll give you your fucking wish, he thought, his mind far darker than the brightening room.

He tossed his legs across the side of the bed, pushed himself to his feet, and strode toward the envelope. The second his hands closed on it, though, he wanted to tear it into a hundred pieces. Maybe burn it.

Of course, that was an un-fucking-reasonable reaction.

And much less satisfying that what he decided to do. The decision he tried to talk himself out of as he showered. Then again as he tossed on clean clothes. A third time as he moved down the two sets of stairs, then grabbed an apple from the bowl in the kitchen. Yet again as he paused in front of the door that led to his brother's domain with its ultra-modern décor. And a final time as he stopped outside of Stevie's door. None of it worked, though. A confrontation was what his ego demanded, so a confrontation was what he would go after.

He knocked. Once. A tap so hard that his knuckles ached. He didn't bother to wait for an answer. Instead, he flung the door open forcefully and strode through, her name on his lips. It stayed there, though, never quite making it out.

The room was empty. The bed made, the door to the en suite bathroom wide open.

Seriously?

Rian moved quickly, exploring every corner of the room, just to be sure. When he'd satisfied himself that she hadn't hidden herself away somewhere, he stalked out again.

Echo.

As much as he hated to do it – as much as he didn't want to think that either his brother or Stevie would simply walk straight through the contract rules – he knew he had to check.

Yeah, he thought. The contract terms. Keep telling yourself that's what's bothering you about this.

He shoved off the sarcastic voice in his head, but he couldn't do the same with his emotions.

With dread pooling thick in his stomach, and anger firing hotter and hotter in his heart, he strode through the hall. He marched toward the matte-black door that marked Echo's territory. A yellow caution sign – stolen long ago from some warehouse – hung in the center, mocking Rian.

Normally, the over-the-top rocker-ness amused him. Normally, finding a girl wrapped in Echo's black satin bed sheets was nothing more than an expected inconvenience.

Too bad Rian wasn't feeling anything normal at all.

When he reached this door, he didn't knock. He just twisted the handle and flung open the door.

"Where is she?" he growled.

His brother's feet – the only part of him visible from under the mess of a bed – twitched. Then Echo groaned.