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

by Gabrielle Sands

Ivy and I piled into the Porsche around seven pm and hit the road. My eyes kept gravitating to the creamy skin of her bare legs.

  “Keep your eyes on the road,” she chastised with a sly smirk.

  I forced myself to look ahead. She wore a pair of cut-off shorts, a white T-shirt beneath a black blazer, and fiery-red lipstick that made her look downright dangerous. When I saw her emerge from the bathroom, an image of those lips wrapped around my cock flashed inside my head. I tried to convince her Fox wouldn’t be mad if we were a bit late, but she wasn’t having any of it. She didn’t want to make a bad first impression.

  “So what’s your cousin like?” she asked.

  “He’s a smart-ass. Still got his Texas twang, but it’s more muted now than when we were younger. He’s been a hustler all his life, always working on a new business idea. Always something to do with cars. Now, he’s got an auto shop in the city. Sounds like it’s doing well.”

  “Have you always been close?”

  I bit on the inside of my cheek. Maybe I should have told Ivy about our history earlier, but it was still a deeply shameful episode in my life, and I worried about how she’d react.

  “Jamie?” she asked after a prolonged silence.

  Shaking my head, I resolved to be honest. Besides the temporary silence regarding Oliver, I didn’t want to have any secrets between us. “We practically grew up together. My ma and her sister, Fox’s mom, lived in the same town, so I’d see Fox all the time. We were best friends all through high school and college, until I dropped out and joined Ritual Disruption. Our lives suddenly became very different, and we started drifting apart. Then I started drinking, and things between us got more strained, just like they did between my ma and I. Still, I’d see Fox from time to time, until I did something really fucked up. We had a huge falling out, and we’ve only gotten back in touch recently.”

  She turned to me, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see her brows furrowing. “What happened?”

  I let out a long breath. “I pretty much ruined his marriage.”

  Ivy waited for me to continue.

  “I was a different man. I mean, you saw me. I don’t have to explain to you how fucked up I got at times. On our fourth world tour—I was twenty-five—Fox came to see us in New Orleans with his wife, Iris. She and I…” I was suddenly unable to say the words out loud.

  “You slept together?” Ivy’s voice was soft.

  “Yeah,” I admitted. “But it was more than that. I apparently convinced her to leave Fox and go with us on tour. She did, and the next day, when I woke up on the bus beside her, I could barely remember who she was. I can’t remember seducing her or asking her to leave her husband of two years, but I did. In my drunken stupor, I did all those things, and ruined someone’s life. She stuck around for a week, trying to make it work, trying to make me remember the moments we shared, while I just drank and snorted everything I could get my hands on so that I could drown out the shame roaring inside my head.”

  I stopped at a red light, and Ivy’s hand landed on my thigh. We shared a look. She sighed when she saw the expression I wore. “Jamie, it was a mistake. Everyone makes mistakes.”

  “Sometimes, I think the past ten years was all one enormous mistake. There are days when I think back to everything I accomplished with Ritual Disruption, and it all seems so meaningless. People say music can change lives, and I’ve had fans who told me as much, but that influence often feels indirect. Then I look at my life, and the lives of all the people I’ve harmed directly, and I wonder if it evens out or if I just caused a lot of needless pain.”

  The light turned green, and I pressed down on the gas while Ivy sat beside me in silence.

  You finally scared her away. Congratulations.

  Then she spoke. “You can spend your entire life looking back and analyzing past events. It’s like with every passing year, the lens we perceive the world through changes. I get why you’re ashamed of your old self, why you question and regret some of the things you’ve done. But at some point, we have to let go of the past and focus on the only thing that’s real—the present moment.”

  Some of the heaviness lifted. “That’s true. But it’s easier said than done, isn’t it?”

  She nodded. “It’s always going to be a work in progress, I think. Letting go.”

  “What about the future? Should we spend time thinking about that?”

  When I glanced at her, she shifted in her seat. “The future is unpredictable. The more we think about it, the more it takes us out of the present, and I don’t want to be somewhere else when I’m with you. I want to be right here, right now.”

  Her hazel eyes met mine, and my stomach turned. A sense of shimmering wonder filled my chest, and electricity crackled under my skin. I knew it then. I was falling in love with her. She smiled and squeezed my leg, and that dimple appeared again.

  We parked in front of the Thai restaurant and climbed out of the car. Fox’s truck was already in the lot. Inside, a lucky cat waved his left paw at us while we waited for the hostess to take us to our table.

  Fox got up from his seat when he saw us approaching, and he moved to shake my hand. “Good to see you, J.” His attention shifted to Ivy. “This your date?”

  “Ivy,” she said, extending her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  He ticked up one of his brows, looking between us as if trying to figure something out. Some insecure part of me was sure he was trying to approximate the age difference.

  They shook hands, and he stepped away to reveal a petite woman standing behind him.

  “This is Reina, my girlfriend,” he introduced us. Reina had long blond hair that cascaded down the front of her black dress. She looked sharp, as if she’d come here straight from the office, and I noticed a laptop bag hanging from the back of her chair that appeared to support my hypothesis. She greeted Ivy and I warmly, and we all sat down.

  “I met Reina at the auto shop. She came in to get her car fixed, and the rest is history, as they say,” Fox told us after we ordered.

  Reina chuckled. “You missed the part where I had to ask you out twice before you agreed on a date.”

  “She was trying to tell me how to fix her car,” he said with a shrug. “Let’s just say it got my hackles up before I realized that’s exactly the kind of woman I need in my life.”

  “What about you two? How did you meet?” Reina asked.

  Ivy and I looked at each other. Her mouth curled up. “Do we start at the very messy beginning? Or the equally messy mid-point?”

  “Oh boy. I can already tell this is going to be good.” Reina chuckled, shooting Fox an amused look.

  We decided to start right from that dressing room on tour. Ivy took the lead on telling the story, but she skipped over a lot of the details that would paint me in a negative light. I noticed she avoided making any reference to Oliver, which was probably for the best. Fox was likely to offer his opinion on my old bandmate if his name came up, even though I’d told him right from the beginning not to say a word about what was going on with us to anyone.

  “Would you like something else to drink?” the waitress asked after dropping off our food.

  “Another Thai iced tea, please,” I ordered.

  Reina caught my gaze. “Fox told me you’re two years sober. I’m going on five years now.”

  “Good for you.” I gave her a sympathetic smile. “I hear it gets easier with every year.”

  She nodded. “I think so. And having the right support network goes a long way, too. It got a hell of a lot easier when I cut off people who weren’t interested in supporting my recovery.”

  “Damn right,” Fox said gruffly. “You know a thing or two about that, right, J? That fucker should rot in hell for what he did to you. Fuckin’ psychopath. Can’t wait to see you serve him what he deserves on Monday.”

  My back snapped straight. “I don’t—”

  “Who are you talking about?” Reina asked Fox, unaware of the panic filling my body. I turned to Ivy
, watching for her reaction, but from the side, it was impossible to read her face. She sat very still, the chopsticks in her hand hovering over her plate.

  “His old bandmate, Oliver,” Fox answered while chewing on his food. “He messed J up. From the drugs—”

  What the hell was he doing? “Fox,” I barked out. “It’s not a great topic for dinner conversation.”

  Ivy twisted her head slowly in my direction, a shallow wrinkle between her brows, and I could see Fox’s words had rattled her. Fuck.

  “Shit, my bad, Jamie.” Fox sniffed. An awkward silence descended until Reina cleared her throat and asked Ivy about her major at UCLA.

  While they talked, I got up to go to the bathroom, and Fox followed me.

  “Sorry about that,” he said when we were around the corner. “I thought you would have told her everything by now. You two seem so comfortable with each other.”

  “We’ve only been seeing each other for a few weeks,” I said. “And there’s some history between them that’s still a sore point.”

  Fox frowned. “For real? She knows him?”

  I ran a hand over my chin. “Yeah. She’s the sister of a guy in Bleeding Moonlight, a band who toured with us on that last tour. Ivy joined for two weeks, and she and Oliver had a thing. I don’t think they’ve seen each other since, but there’s still something there. I don’t know exactly what, because we’ve agreed not to talk about him. Before we started seeing each other, he was our biggest point of contention. She didn’t believe me when I told her what a manipulative bastard he is.”

  “You know, telling her the full story will probably make it easier for her to let go,” Fox said, leaning against the wall. “She seems like a sweet girl. No way she’d care about that asshole if she knew what he did to you. From the shitty contract to the bullshit with the drugs. Why not have the conversation?”

  He had a point. She was with me, not him. For the past few weeks, she’d been waking up in my bed, not his. I had all the leverage, but I was still afraid.

  We finished dinner, said our goodbyes to Fox and Reina, and got into my car to drive back. The whole ride, Ivy chewed on her nails, staring out of the window. I could tell her thoughts were someplace else. Was she thinking about him?

  18

  IVY

  After Jamie dropped me off at my apartment after dinner, I locked myself inside my room and pulled up Oliver’s last message from a few days ago.

  “Are you ignoring me, beautiful? Have I made you upset? I’m sorry if I did. It’s so hard being away from you.”

  I didn’t block his number the night after I first slept with Jamie, but I also didn’t reply.

  I didn’t belong to him. But I still couldn’t bring myself to tell him that.

  There was no rational explanation for why. I’d tried to figure it out, to look inside myself and examine my feelings, but I came up with nothing. I knew I didn’t love him anymore, but I still felt…something when he messaged me.

  I told myself there was no harm in it if I didn’t respond. I’d almost managed to convince myself, until I heard Fox’s words.

  Why had he called Oliver a psychopath? And what was Jamie going to do to him on Monday?

  My heart squeezed at the thought of Jamie. The things happening between us terrified me and thrilled me in equal proportions. Some days, I’d allow myself to enjoy it, and others, all I could think about was how I was losing myself so very quickly again. Hadn’t the experience with Oliver taught me anything? It was foolish to fall this fast and hard.

  But then Zoey’s words would ring inside my head. A great love was supposed to make you feel powerful. And with Jamie, that’s how I felt.

  I wasn’t in love with him. Not yet. But I also saw no point in denying that I was heading there at breakneck speed, and it had only been three weeks since I’d slept with him for the first time.

  That first night, when I got home, I told myself nothing bad would come out of seeing him again. We had fun together, so why wouldn’t I keep going? But within the span of a few days, it wasn’t just fun. It was intense. And although it was different from how I felt toward Oliver, I wondered if it was two sides of the same coin.

  I’d idolized Oliver. I’d let him define me. I’d obsessed over his every detail.

  And Jamie? I thought about him constantly, but I saw him for who he was. The strengths and the flaws of his character. He wasn’t perfect, but he was authentic. Thoughtful. Kind. Sexy. He didn’t try to change me, but I’d begun to change anyway. I was more confident, more passionate, more alive. It all sounded amazing, but what if it was just an illusion? Would I go right back to the same old Ivy when he was no longer around?

  I didn’t want to be defined by the men in my life. I wanted to be my own maker.

  The fact that this particular thought wouldn’t have crossed my mind before I met Jamie didn’t go unnoticed.

  “You’re going back to his place again?” Zoey asked me the next evening when she saw I was getting dressed. She was sprawled across the sofa with a book. “You just came back last night. Should I be asking Sophie to move in with me next semester? At the rate things are going, you’re going to be moving in together in a few weeks.”

  “Oh, relax,” I waved her off. “We’re just having fun together.”

  She laughed under her breath. “You are so in denial. And so far gone over this guy.”

  Stuffing my arms into a thin cardigan, I tried to muster up a convincing glare, but her expression told me she saw right through me.

  “Seriously, Ives. Are you going to ignore the fact that he’s the first guy you’ve dated for real since the man who shall not be named? It’s kind of a big deal.”

  “We haven’t put a label on it yet,” I mumbled.

  “Okay. Sure. But labels aside, you must really like him if you can’t stand to spend more than a day apart,” she retorted.

  I rolled my eyes at her and left to catch my Uber.

  Walking up Jamie’s driveway, I tried to let go of my anxious thoughts from the night before. He’d called me in the morning, asking if I could come over, and I suspected it was because he wanted company before whatever was happening tomorrow. He sounded stressed and distracted. Something was weighing on him, and I was torn between wanting to ask about tomorrow and just being there for him.

  I rang the doorbell, and moments later, the door swung open to reveal Jamie dressed in a loose tank top and a pair of sweatpants that hung low on his hips. My gaze lingered on his muscular arms before sweeping up to his face. What I saw there made my heart skip.

  “Come here,” he said gruffly, his voice sending electricity right down to my core. There was something dark in his eyes, something that told me he needed me right now, and my body moved to obey without a conscious thought on my part.

  He pulled me into his broad chest, the door slammed behind me, and then I was pressed against it, his lips crushing against mine, and his body lined up with every part of my own.

  The tension he was carrying released bit by bit as he kissed me with an intensity that tasted a lot like desperation. He slipped his hand under my shirt, and I arched my back, opening myself up to him. He was hard against me, not just his cock, but his entire body, pressing, pressing, pressing, as if his final destination was some place beneath my skin.

  He pulled back and I moaned his name.

  “Ivy,” he said in a hoarse voice. “I want you so badly, I can barely speak. Let’s not speak. Let me stay between your legs until I forget the day, the year, the fucking planet we’re on.”

  “Yes,” I said, a dazed grin on my face.

  He carried me to the bedroom and tossed me on the bed as if I were a rag doll. I tore at my clothes, then his hands were helping me, and soon, I was naked, and he was moving his lips over my breasts.

  I tangled my fingers in his hair as he moved lower, kissing my pubic mound, prying my center open with his fingers, and finally swirling his tongue around my clit. My eyelids fluttered. “Oh God.”

&n
bsp; He pushed two of his fingers inside of me, curling and rubbing against my G-spot so proficiently that I was there within a minute. I thrashed around his fingers, fighting against him while he held my hips in place.

  When I opened my eyes, he met me with a hard look. “I’m not done,” he said very seriously and brought his tongue to me again.

  I was a babbling, incoherent mess by the time he finally got his fill. I thought I’d come at least three times, but I couldn’t be sure. He’d barely given me enough time to settle back down, and my highs blended into one long period of pure ecstasy that made my experience on Molly pale in comparison.

  He fell on his back beside me on the bed, and I clambered up onto his lap. “Jamie, what the hell was that?” I panted. “You destroyed me.”

  Finally, his intensity broke, and he gave me a satisfied grin. His hands landed on my hips, squeezing them affectionately. “Don’t worry, I’ll piece you back together.”

  Blood thrummed inside my veins. That’s what you’ve been doing all along, I thought. Piecing me together. He just didn’t know how badly I’d been broken prior to him coming back into my life.

  I slid farther down, moving until my mouth was in line with his dick. Then I looked up. “I want you to come in my mouth.”

  He sat up on his elbows. “Are you sure?”

  After that one experience with Oliver, I had developed an aversion to the act. I’d never let Jack do it, and when Jamie asked me if he could when we first started hooking up, I’d said no to him as well. He had been utterly respectful of that boundary and never given a hint of any disappointment, but now, something inside of me wanted to give it another try.

  I nodded and lowered down on him, letting my teeth lightly graze along the underside of his cock. He let out a low moan. “Have I ever told you how fucking gorgeous you look with your mouth wrapped around my cock?”

  A shiver ran through me, and I tilted my head up to meet his gaze. He was watching me through half-lidded eyes with a mesmerized expression, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. At times, I’d notice him looking at me that way when we were doing nothing in particular, and he’d turn away, something in him shying away at being caught.