MoreOfYou_LPavlov-eBooks

by Pavlov, Laura

  When he finished the song, he walked off stage with me. “Happy you’re here, baby.”

  “Me too.”

  “Did I embarrass you?”

  “Yes. You always do,” I said before kissing him.

  He jogged back out and his fans greeted him with even more cheers. I wondered if it would be hard for him to leave when this all came to an end. Was he leaving for me, or did he hate this lifestyle as much as I did?

  “Hey, J-bird, sorry we’re late. Got caught in traffic,” Sam said when Luke escorted him over to us.

  “Who the hell are you?” Tia snarled, and I couldn’t help but laugh. This girl was fascinating. I didn’t know if she loved me or hated me. But she certainly didn’t appreciate Sam giving me a hug.

  “This is my best friend, Sam,” I said.

  “I thought Ari was your best friend.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest, giving Sam a once over from head to toe.

  “I’m the girl best friend. He’s the guy best friend,” Ari said with a chuckle.

  “Okay then. Nice to meet you, Sam.” Tia forced a smile, and I introduced her to Cara.

  “Nice to meet you too, I guess?” Sam’s tone was all tease.

  “Sorry about that. Just a little protective over Winslow. Can’t imagine what he’d do if this one ever dumped him.” She flicked her thumb at me, and Sam’s laughter bounced off the walls.

  Tia was an enigma.

  An enigma who went by one name, had an intimidating edge, and an odd friendship with my boyfriend.

  But I liked her.

  I think.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Cruz

  “So, is it true? Are you really leaving Exiled?” Tia said, barging into my room on the tour bus. Who the fuck did this chick think she was?

  “Have you ever heard of knocking?”

  “Don’t deflect. Are you leaving the band? Seriously?” She huffed, pulling out the chair at my desk and dropping down to sit, like she owned the place.

  “Wow. Make yourself at home.” I crossed my arms in front of me and stared at her.

  “Dude. Quit avoiding the question.”

  “Dude. It’s none of your business,” I said, slipping my phone in my back pocket.

  Sure, Tia and I had become friends, and I use the term loosely because I’d known her for all of a month. I didn’t trust her, so I sure as shit wasn’t telling her what I was doing where Exiled was concerned. But I knew exactly where this was coming from. My brother and Bailey were acting like two lovesick teenagers, and I’m sure the asshole opened his big mouth.

  “Dude. It is my business. I came on tour with you. My career is riding on this too, Mr. Rock Star. The world doesn’t only revolve around you.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? What I do with my life has nothing to do with you. This is not your business. Stay out of it,” I said.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? Believe it or not, Winslow, opening for Exiled is my big break. And unfortunately, you are the face of Exiled. People aren’t following any of those other dipshits around. They favor dipshit number one, which is you. And if you leave, this whole ship goes down. Where the hell does that leave me?”

  “Well, thanks for caring. Nobodies’ ship is going down. Do you really think I’d do that to my brother? Or to Adam? Mind your own fucking business, Tia. Keep this to yourself or it’s going to blow up in everyone’s face,” I said.

  She stood up and reached in her back pocket and pulled out a baggy with pills in it, tossed two in her mouth and reached for my water bottle. Yes. Tia liked to help herself to my things. The girl had no boundaries. None. And she was getting on my last fucking nerve. She slammed the water and swallowed whatever the hell she just put in her mouth.

  “Do you really think I’d leak this to the press? This will bring my career to a screeching halt. So, thanks. Those two Vicodin are because of you, asshole.” She dropped back down in the chair.

  Why was this my problem? I wasn’t responsible for anyone else’s career. My goal was to exit the band without hurting my brother and Adam. That’s it.

  “Mom, is that you?” Sarcasm dripped from my voice, because pill-poppers loved to blame other people for their problems.

  “Save your rich boy issues for someone who buys that shit. Your mommy likes the narcs, I get it. Play your violin somewhere else, Winslow. I grew up with it too, and right now Vicodin happens to be my favorite coping mechanism. So, get the hell over it. Tell me what’s going on, or I’m going to follow you around day and night and haunt your nightmares.”

  “Jesus. It’s not going to affect you. The label has it under control. They’re looking at two guys right now to take my place. If this gets out, I’ll fucking know it was you, and I’ll get your ass fired.”

  “If I were you, I’d suspect Dex way before I’d worry about me. He’s a devious little shit. I’m a pain in the ass, but I shoot straight. I’m not going to the press, that’s the last thing I’d do.”

  “Dex won’t leak it because it would hurt Exiled if it came out now. Keeping it under wraps until we release a statement with the name of the guy taking over is our best shot at a smooth transition. He won’t do anything to hurt himself,” I said, running a hand over my face.

  “So, when is this going down?” she asked.

  For some odd reason, I believed Tia wouldn’t go to the press with this. Not only because it would hurt her as well, but because she wasn’t a malicious person. At least she hadn’t been yet. And it would hurt my brother, and I doubted her sister would appreciate that.

  “Not for a few months. I gave them a year, and they convinced me to wait until the end of summer. Jade will come on tour with us those last few months, so I agreed to the extension.”

  Tia and her band had their own piece of shit tour bus, but they were constantly in ours when we traveled during the day because apparently their bus smelled like dirty feet. They slept on their own bus but refused to sit on it when they were awake, for whatever reason.

  “Are you quitting for Jade?” she asked.

  The girl was as direct as me. She didn’t hold back.

  “Has anyone ever told you that you’re fucking nosy?” I said.

  “Yes. Many people have. I just don’t give a fuck.”

  I laughed. “No. I’m not leaving for Jade. I never wanted to do this. I agreed to come on tour for a year, and I’ve done my part. I’m even staying a few extra months through the summer. I want to finish school and figure out what the hell I want to do with my life. Not that it’s any of your business.”

  “You really want to leave all this?” She put her hands out at her side and chuckled.

  “I can’t wait. I’m sick of traveling. Sick of Dex. Sick of people being in my business every fucking time I step outside. And I’m sick of being away from my girl. End of story.”

  “You’re a classic psych case, you know that, right?” she said.

  I let out a long breath. I really wasn’t in the mood to be psycho-analyzed by Tia, with no fucking last name, who’d spent less time in this business than I had and wanted to be famous as much as Dex did.

  “Okay, ol’ wise one. Let’s hear it.”

  She leaned back in the chair, extended her legs, crossed her feet at the ankles and propped them on my desk. I glared at her, but she ignored me.

  “Relax, Winslow. It’s a tour bus, not the Four Seasons. This is what I think—since you asked.” She chuckled before continuing. “You’re a rich boy with mommy and daddy issues. You probably lived in a big mansion, surrounded by lots of people, yet it was unbearably lonely. So, you want the white picket fence, and the lame-ass minivan with lots of seating for all your nerdy little kids. They’ll probably be preppy little fuckers with plaid shirts and high-waisted cargo pants, they’ll play golf and polo, maybe ride horses—you’ll marry Jade who will be the perfe
ct mother and doctor, and you’ll do that whole annoying bedtime routine where it takes you two hours to put your over-indulged children to sleep because you have to read them fourteen bedtime stories or they won’t be educated enough to attend Princeton in the future—” She paused. Thank fucking Christ, because I don’t know how much more I could take. Unfortunately, I laughed. Because she was odd as hell, and a little bit crazy.

  “Yeah, you had me at lonely childhood, and then the train left the station.”

  “You know what I mean. You want the dream of a normal, boring life. You’re overcompensating for your lack of normalcy as a child. Typical Millennial. But guess what, buddy. Most people want what you have. The grass is always greener, you know. Maybe you should just convince Jade to jump ship and come this way instead. You could have a couple little snotty kids running around the tour bus. Kids love that shit.”

  “You just might be clinically insane. I’m good. But thanks for the advice. No one’s having kids or buying minivans. This just isn’t what I want to do with my life. But you’ll be fine. Exiled will go on, and I’m sure they’ll keep your annoying ass around. For what it’s worth, you’re a kickass opening act,” I said.

  She put the back of her hand to her forehead. “Winslow, did you just give me a compliment? Be still my beating heart.”

  “Fuck off. The therapy session is over, and I need to call my girl.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Don’t you have your big interview with Rock the Band tomorrow? Is that why we’re rushing to New York?”

  “Yes. And the fact that we have a show there,” I said.

  “Well, don’t slip up and tell the legendary rock magazine that you’re leaving all this to pursue your education. Groupies and fans frown upon that shit.” She stood up and walked toward the door.

  “You’ll keep this between us?” I reiterated the importance of keeping it quiet.

  “Of course, I will. This isn’t a secret I’m dying to tell.”

  The closer it got, the more difficult it would be to keep it quiet. I couldn’t wait to put this behind me and move on with my life.

  Riley Lawson was a legendary reporter for Rock the Band. She’d interviewed every big rock star over the last decade. We were meeting her downtown at a studio for the photo shoot and the interview would follow. Luke had been a nervous wreck all morning, because depending on how it went, it could make or break our future in a lot of ways. Rock the Band had launched newcomers to superstardom, and it had painted ugly pictures of bands that were on top of the world.

  “Dex, I’m not fucking around. You need to think before you speak. No one is to bring up Cruz leaving this band, do you understand me? We control his exit right now, and that’s how I want to keep it. Do not bring up your dispute with Adam, or with anyone in this band. We clear?”

  “Christ, Dude. Relax. I got it,” Dex said, running a hand through his long, wavy hair.

  “No problem. We’ve got this,” Adam said, dropping to sit on the couch in our hotel suite.

  “Okay. We’re taking the bus. They may want to snap some pictures of you guys on the tour bus. We’ll see when we get there.” Luke called the driver and told him to pull up out front.

  When we arrived, we were taken back to hair and makeup and pulled into different rooms. I tried not to be annoyed. I sent a text to Jade while I sat in the chair.

  Me ~ They’re making us pretty for the photo shoot. Apparently, my hair and face need some work.

  More Jade ~ You don’t need any work. They probably just have to do that, so they don’t offend Dex because he needs some help.

  Me ~ Touche. How are you feeling?

  More Jade ~ So much better. Can’t wait for Spring Break. I miss you so much.

  Me ~ Miss you more.

  More Jade ~ Has Tia kept quiet about you leaving the band?

  Me ~ Yeah. Haven’t heard anything and I think if she were going to leak it, she would have done so by now. She doesn’t seem like the type to do it.

  More Jade ~ I agree. I can’t wait till this is all behind us.

  Me ~ Me too.

  More Jade ~ Facetime me after the interview. Can’t wait to see the photos.

  Me ~ Can’t wait to see you. Six days. Five hours. Twenty-seven minutes. But who’s counting.

  More Jade ~ Hahahaha I am! Class is starting. Love you.

  Me ~ Love you more.

  “Are you texting your girlfriend?” the chick rubbing some kind of hair product into my hair asked.

  “Yeah. Sorry.” I set my phone down on the counter in front of me.

  The room was small, and she and another girl were crammed in here with me.

  “Don’t be sorry. Just curious. I’m Christy and this is Niki. I do the hair and she does the face,” Christy said with a laugh.

  “Please tell me you aren’t putting makeup on me.” I quirked a brow and waited.

  “Well, the camera doesn’t capture you with the same vibrancy as we see in real life. So, you need to really exaggerate the makeup because it’s not as strong through the camera. The light changes the way it looks. Basically, we’re just trying to make you look as good as you do in person, but in a photograph,” Niki said, and her face burned red.

  “I have no idea what that means, so I’ll just have to trust you. The other guys better be getting this done too.”

  “They are. But they wanted the most attention to go on the cover model.” Christy chuckled.

  I sat forward. My hair looked exactly the same, messy and unruly, but it stayed in place, so I guess they knew how to make it do that.

  “The band is going to be on the cover,” I said, unsure if I misheard her.

  “Oh, really? They told us you were going to be on the cover. They said the band would have a few photos inside with the interview. But maybe we heard wrong?” Niki said, and she and Christy exchanged a look in the mirror.

  They took me out to the studio after putting me in a black tailored button-up and a pair of dark fitted jeans. There were a slew of people positioning me where they wanted me and telling me to look every which way while they snapped what had to be thousands of photos. The photographer’s name was Mig and he must be a big deal because everyone did what he said. The good news was that Mig didn’t ask me to smile all that much, so my natural, pissed off face seemed to meet his approval.

  “Can we do a few without your shirt? I know you’ve got some impressive ink, and I want to have a few to offer the art director. I think that makes for a more interesting cover,” Mig asked.

  “Sure.” I took off my shirt and Christy came out of nowhere to grab it.

  He had me lie down, sit up and even took a few of me standing. “Holy shit, these are gorgeous. The tat over your heart is magnificent. What’s the meaning there?”

  He continued to shoot pictures while he spoke, so I assumed he didn’t care if I answered while he shot some more photos. “Jade’s my girlfriend. Just a way to keep her with me even when we’re apart.”

  “Fucking beautiful, man.”

  “Thanks,” I said with a laugh. He was passionate, and I admired anyone who took their job that serious.

  “Of course, your shirt is off,” Lennon said, and he bellowed out in laughter when he, Adam and Dex walked in the room.

  “Hey. Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful,” I said, flipping him the bird.

  “Fuck, you photograph well,” Mig gushed as he continued to take shots. “Alright, let’s get you guys in here. Take some group shots.”

  “Here’s your shirt back,” Christy said, handing me the button up.

  “Thank Christ. I’m a little pale right now, so a shirtless photo shoot is not in the cards,” Adam said, and we all laughed.

  Mig snapped pictures for the next thirty minutes, and I was over it. Riley met us in the conference room where we sat around a large table. She was a petite wo
man with shoulder-length black hair. She wore jeans with a white button-up and a blazer.

  “So, tell me how you all met,” she said, setting her phone down to record our conversation.

  “These assholes all knew one another, and then they discovered my talent. The missing piece,” Dex said, with a shit-eating grin across his face. I made a conscious decision not to roll my eyes in front of her.

  “Cruz and I are brothers, so obviously we’ve known one another since birth,” Lennon said with a laugh, before continuing. “Cruz and Adam were best friends growing up, so Adam and I started playing together and sort of forced my brother to sing in the band because neither of us could hold a tune. And then we met Dex in high school and Exiled was formed.”

  “Who chose the name?” she asked.

  “I did. You know, at the time it really fit. Probably still does. We were always getting into trouble at school. We definitely pushed the envelope when we were young, so the name sort of picked us,” Adam said.

  “I like that,” Riley said, staring at me and waiting for me to chime in. She hadn’t asked me anything specific and Adam and Lennon had answered the questions well.

  “So, you sort of forced Cruz to sing in the band? He didn’t want to?” she asked.

  My brother looked over at me and smiled. My chest squeezed. Why the fuck did the kid always make me soft. I hated it.

  “I wasn’t a great singer, but I was better than these assholes,” I said with a laugh.

  “And then you came into your own and found your talent?” Riley said.

  “I wouldn’t say that. I still don’t think I’m all that strong of a singer. I’m average at best. But I write good lyrics, and these guys kind of mask my lack of singing talent with their music.” I took a swig of water, anxious for a smoke. It had been a long day and I was in need of some nicotine.