Pretty Words: An Enemies To Lovers Rock Star Romance (River Valley Rebels)

by Gabrielle Sands

  As if only now realizing that I may be mad at her, she froze in place. A flush appeared on her cheeks as she tried to figure out how to respond.

  “It’s fine.” Despite my irritation, I was also desperate not to get into another showdown with someone. “I shouldn’t have taken the Molly. But thanks for getting me into the club. It was…illuminating.”

  Her lips twitched. She wrung her hands. “I’m sorry, Ivy. I may have overdone it that night. I wasn’t a good friend, was I?”

  “No, really, don’t worry about it.” I was starting to suspect she was high on something now, and that may have prompted the massive cleaning spree. I began to walk past her.

  “Do you want to come in for a beer or something? I’m almost done tidying up,” she offered with a hopeful voice.

  “I’m good. It’s been a long day. I just want to lie down.”

  I was turning the key in the lock when she called out, “Hey! Did you end up meeting anyone that night? You know, someone to help you forget that fuckboy you broke up with?”

  The door to the apartment swung open, but her question made me pause at the threshold.

  “I think I might have,” I said before finally stepping inside, closing the door, and leaning my back against it.

  There were all these parts to Jamie that I never knew about until now. Parts that called to me, made me think, made me question. Parts that I enjoyed.

  What if Zoey had a point? What if Jamie was the perfect guy for me to sleep with for the first time?

  In my current sober state, it seemed like a far-fetched idea, but that didn’t make it any less tempting. He’d refused to sleep with me when I was high, but was that because he wasn’t attracted to me, or because he didn’t want to do anything while I was in that state? What if I propositioned him when I was sober?

  I nibbled on my lip. The problem was that without the chemical courage, I didn’t know how to go about it. Maybe I just needed to give myself a few more days to think it over.

  Collapsing on my bed, I thought about what Oliver would say if he knew I was lusting over his old bandmate. Of course, it didn’t matter. Not anymore. With each passing day, my addiction was easing.

  A pleasantly cool week passed by, confirming that the heat wave had truly ended. We were now in the second week of October, and all my classes had quizzes or labs due. I was paying more attention in my lectures, and spending my lunch breaks thinking about what I wanted to do after I graduate. One of my professors mentioned a volunteer opportunity at a methadone clinic downtown, and I signed up to help out. Jamie’s words about there being an opportunity to make an impact in addiction research had struck a nerve. I was curious to learn more about the current treatment methods and better understand the struggles people with substance use disorders faced.

  All of this resulted in me putting my intentions regarding Jamie on slow burn. On numerous occasions, I tried to craft a text to him, but it all sounded wrong. How could I explain why I was contacting him again? Hi, Jamie, I’m reaching out because I think you’re hot, and I want to sleep with you. Even saying the words in my head made me feel nauseous with nerves. The old Jamie certainly wouldn’t balk at a casual hookup. The new one? I wasn’t so sure.

  Thursday night, a loud knock sounded on our door, startling Zoey and I from our positions on the sofa. She arched a brow at me. “Expecting anyone?”

  “No,” I said, standing up to check the door. My first guess was our visitor was Mimi. She had never come to our place before, but I couldn’t think of anyone else who would show up uninvited.

  I twisted the door handle and gasped as it swung open to reveal the unexpected visitor. Sophie stood at our doorstep, a suitcase in her left hand, and what looked close to a dozen shopping bags in the right. She wore a trendy washed-out jean jacket, black leggings, a pair of leather boots, and a giant grin.

  “Soph!” I shrieked. “What are you doing here?”

  Zoey cried out in surprise behind me, and something clattered on the floor as she scrambled to get up. “What in the hell?”

  “Delivery from Paris, bitches!” She dropped the bags on the ground and gave us her signature wink. We lunged at her, laughing and hollering with joyful disbelief.

  “You could have warned us,” Zoey blubbered, her face buried in Sophie’s voluminous hair. “I would have gotten your favorite cupcakes.”

  “Don’t worry about that. I’m here for the whole weekend, so we’ll have plenty of time to hit up my favorite spots. Now help me with these bags, they’re mostly gifts for you two. And then, I want to hear about everything I’ve been missing.”

  It turned out that Sophie had come to LA for a job interview at a fashion startup, where she was hoping to intern next semester. She wore a satisfied smirk as we gasped at the news, knowing that if she got the internship, she’d be making our entire year.

  “So we might all live in LA together?” I squealed.

  “Hey, don’t jinx it. Right now, all it is is an opportunity. But I’m as prepped as my mom’s frozen lasagna. I’ve been practicing for the interview for weeks with some of my classmates back in Paris.”

  “Speaking of,” Zoey said, “we need to see all the French hotties.”

  Sophie laughed, “Oh, honey, I don’t know if you’re ready. You might turn into a puddle when you see Francois from my economics class. And anyways, I want you to open your presents before we get into all that.”

  The next half hour was spent digging through the bags and tearing open the delicate tissue paper hiding our goodies from sight.

  “Oh my God, where the hell did you get this? And how did you afford it?” I exclaimed, rushing over to the mirror and lifting a shimmery red minidress up against my body. “This is so beautiful.”

  “One of my classmates, Marcus, is the heir to his family’s luxury conglomerate. He’s been asking me out ever since the beginning of last year. Let’s just say he’s eager to please,” she said with a smirk. “Go, try it on. Zoey, you, too. I want to see you rocking that emerald number.”

  When we came out of our rooms, donning our new dresses, Sophie slow clapped. “Alrighty then. I may have overdone it. The stuff I brought for me to wear looks provincial in comparison.”

  I snorted. “Yeah, right. You’ve never looked provincial a day in your life.”

  “So not to sound ungrateful,” Zoey jumped in, “but what are we going to do with these? I’m sure you get plenty of opportunities to wear this kind of stuff in Paris, but we’re kind of a casual bunch here in LA.”

  “We’re going out this weekend.”

  “Soph, I have the MCAT coming up,” Zoey drew out. “I need to study. Ivy knows, I’ve been a hermit for the past few weeks.”

  I sat down to watch this clash of titans on the sofa. Sophie was a woman of many talents, but there was no way she was going to convince Zoey to go out. If my roommate was anything, she was focused. Not a chance she’d sacrifice her precious weekend of studying.

  “Hon, I’ve got an interview, remember? But this might be the only weekend we have together until the Christmas holidays, and even then, I’m not sure I’ll come home. Francois invited me to his family’s vineyard in Bourgogne, and Marcus has been talking about ringing in the new year on his family’s yacht. Let’s just say, River Valley is looking hella lame in comparison.”

  “But you might be back here in January,” Zoey argued. “We’ll have plenty of time then.”

  “Might. That’s the key word in there. What if I don’t get it? Won’t you regret sitting at home studying while Ivy and I are having the time of our lives? Come on!”

  A frown formed on Zoey’s face and I snorted to myself. While Zoey was undoubtedly the queen of the guilt trip, Sophie may as well have invented the tactic.

  “One night,” Sophie insisted, her eyes widening in a pleading look. “Just one. You don’t even need to drink. I just want the company of my two favorite bitches. How long has it been? How. Long. We’re not getting any younger. When you get into med school, a
nd you’re busy learning and saving lives, you’re going to have even less time for us. This is practically our last chance to make some memories, okay?”

  Zoey groaned, dropping her face into her palms. Sophie shot me a victorious look before shifting her expression back to something that resembled a sad puppy. “So, Zozo? What do you think?”

  Oh Lord. The nickname she’d given Zoey when we were all in elementary school? That was a low blow.

  Zoey lifted her face, peeking over the tips of her fingers at us. “Fine,” she said, drawing out the I. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to regret this, but you’ve got one night. Make it count.”

  Sophie dropped to the sofa, laying her head on my thighs. Her perfectly conditioned blond locks splayed out over my knees. “You got it. While you study, Ivy and I will figure out our plan. Right, Ives?”

  I spent the next little while updating Sophie on my life.

  “Why don’t we ask your neighbor to get us in again?” Sophie asked when I finished telling her about my latest clubbing experience. Her disappointment regarding our decidedly tame existence in one of the most exciting cities on earth was palpable. “And really, how did I not know that both of you are such homebodies? How the hell did this happen?”

  “We’re not homebodies. We’re just not into the whole party scene. Whenever we chat over FaceTime, you have enough crazy stories for the three of us combined, and anyway, you saw how focused Zoey is on the MCAT.”

  “Okay, and what’s your excuse?”

  “You know me.” I sighed. “I’ve always been introverted.”

  Sophie scrunched her nose, skeptical. “Excuses, excuses. I mean, c’mon, you were fine going on that tour, which by the way, is still crazier than anything I have ever experienced.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but she didn’t let me.

  “Back to the topic at hand. Your neighbor?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “Did you somehow miss the part where she gave me drugs and ditched? I don’t trust her. Honestly, I think she might be a dealer.”

  Sophie stood up and walked to the kitchen, pulling out a glass from one of the cabinets. “She might be our best bet,” she said as she filled it with water. “If we were in Paris, we’d already be on three different guest lists. You really need to come visit.”

  The word “guest list” jigged a memory. That morning at Jamie’s… He’d offered to do exactly what Sophie wanted. He’d said he could get us on a list.

  A grin teased at my lips as I grabbed my phone and found his contact. This was the perfect excuse to get in touch with him again.

  Sophie raised a brow at my expression. “What?”

  “I know how to get us in somewhere.”

  15

  IVY

  Five minutes after I’d shot off that text, Jamie responded, saying he was happy to help, and that’s how I ended up with a crew of six people pre-drinking at the apartment on Saturday.

  Besides Zoey, Sophie, and I, there were two of Sophie’s friends from camp that I hadn’t met before—Erica and Shel—and Zoey’s lab partner from Biology—Morgan—who’d come by our place a few times.

  “I got champagne,” Sophie announced, pulling out a bottle from our fridge. She had done a booze run earlier. I had no idea how she’d managed to buy it. “Your favorite, right, Ives? How fucking bougie of you.”

  I’d never told them why I liked champagne. It wasn’t the taste of the aggressively bubbly liquid that appealed to me. It was simply the drink that most reminded me of Oliver.

  “Let’s start with something else,” I said, giving her a nonchalant smile. “Save the good stuff for later.”

  We made a few gin and tonics and cracked open a bottle of wine but Zoey and I drank only enough to avoid protests from the others. Her reasons for staying sober were obvious. Mine were almost entirely anchored on a desire to not make a fool of myself in front of Jamie.

  He’d agreed to meet us outside the club to make sure we got in without any issues and to say hello to a friend that managed the place. I kept checking the time on my phone, growing increasingly more restless as the minutes ticked closer to when we were due to leave.

  “All good, Ivy?” Zoey asked while I was putting some finishing touches to my makeup in my room. “We haven’t really talked about you asking Jamie to arrange this whole thing. How do you feel about it?”

  Putting a layer of light lipgloss on my lips, I shrugged at the mirror. “He’s our best bet for making this evening work. Plus, we’ve made peace. It’s fine.”

  She gave me a curious look, leaning her shoulder against the wall by the mirror. “Why do I sense there’s something you’re not telling me? Does this have anything to do with step one of your plan for moving on from Oliver?”

  I hadn’t told Zoey about coming to terms with my attraction to Jamie, or the fact that in the past two weeks, I’d been giving her suggestion about him very serious consideration. Given I hadn’t had the time to do anything about seeing him again, it had seemed pointless to get into it. But now that we were about to meet him… My friend always managed to read me a little too well. “Maybe. I’ve been thinking about what you said about him.”

  Her mouth formed an O. “No way. You’re really considering hooking up with Jamie?”

  “Maybe,” I repeated. “You think it’s a bad idea?”

  “No! I’m just kind of surprised by the fact that you’re about to dole out some poetic justice to Oliver. How insane would it be if you and Jamie ended up together?”

  I snorted. “Trust me, I’m not looking to date. And I’m not doing this to piss off Oliver. Given that he and Jamie are clearly not on good terms, I don’t anticipate Oliver ever finding out. I sure won’t be the one telling him anything.”

  “So you’re doing this because you actually like Jamie.”

  “I’m attracted to him,” I admitted, “but if anything ends up happening—which it very well might not—it will be completely casual. Just a hookup, nothing more.”

  Zoey rolled her eyes. “You never know what might happen.”

  “With our history? No freaking way.” Zoey was getting way ahead of the situation. I still wasn’t confident Jamie was even a little into me. Sure, there was that incident on the dance floor, but that was two weeks ago. For all I knew, he’d started seeing someone by now.

  “Oh, hand that to me,” she said, snatching the blush I was holding from my palm. “While you remind yourself of all the reasons why it could never work, I’m going to fix your face. You’ve got a rock star to seduce tonight.”

  Twenty minutes later, we were piling into two Ubers, ready to hit the road.

  “What’s this place called again?” Sophie asked, her voice louder than usual. We remembered to open the champagne after we’d called the cars, and Sophie had practically chugged half of the bottle.

  “Eden,” I answered, sending a text to Jamie to let him know we were on our way. His response came quickly—a thumbs-up emoji.

  I didn’t have much of a plan. It’s not like I’d done this successfully before. My last admittedly sloppy attempt at seduction had ended with Jack leaving me alone in a botanical garden. Still, nervous excitement spread through my belly at the thought of seeing Jamie again. I’d just have to wing it.

  We pulled up in front of a nondescript wooden door with not a sign in sight. For a moment, I thought maybe I’d gotten the address wrong.

  Then, a familiar silhouette moved into the light of a single elegant sconce hanging over the door. I exhaled in relief. “Let’s get out.”

  Climbing out of the car first, I walked toward Jamie, my feet unsteady in a pair of heels I wasn’t used to wearing. As I got closer, my breath caught in my throat. I wasn’t expecting him to look like that.

  Jamie was a feast for the eyes, and I’d arrived absolutely starved. I couldn’t get enough of him. He wore fitted black jeans and a simple light-blue button-up with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. The precise tailoring of his clothes highlighted his muscular phys
ique to perfection. Whoever had made that shirt for him deserved a lifetime achievement award. His jacket was slung over his shoulder. He looked like he’d just walked off the set of one of those moody cologne commercials. Effortlessly sophisticated. Brutally sexy.

  He turned his head in my direction, and as if on cue, my heart began to pound against my ribs. I needed to calm down, because my reaction to him felt way too intense for someone I was just hoping to sleep with once.

  The moment he saw me, his gray eyes turned a shade darker, and his gaze lingered on my legs before coming back up to my face.

  “Hi,” I said, stopping in front of him.

  “Hey, Ivy,” he said in his velvety voice, and I felt it right inside of me. I was pretty sure I was already wet.

  “Thanks for doing this.” I smiled.

  “No problem.”

  “Hi! I’m Sophie.” My friend came up to Jamie and stuck out her hand. I’d filled her in on what’d happened between him and I. As expected, her reaction was mercenary. Look, I’ve never met the guy. My dislike of him was completely secondhand. If you two are cool now, and he can give us a fun time, I’m ready to be his new best friend.

  Zoey was next. “I’m Zoey, Ivy’s roommate.”

  Jamie dropped Sophie’s hand and shook Zoey’s. “Nice to meet you.”

  The rest of our party all seemed a little stunned as he introduced himself to them. The girls didn’t strike me as metal heads, so I was sure it wasn’t because they recognized him from his days in Ritual Disruption. He was just the kind of hot that made you forget how to string words together. When I caught Shel obviously checking out his ass, I glared at her.

  “You ready to go inside?” Jamie asked, directing the question at me. His lips curled into a grin.

  I nodded and stepped closer to him. “Lead the way.”

  He rapped three sure knocks against the door. A tiny speakeasy window swung open—it had completely blended into the wood when it was closed—and an eye peeked out. “Password.”