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

by Gabrielle Sands

  “He’d allowed me to get too confident when it was in his interest to keep me feeling low. There was a balance to it. I couldn’t be too down on myself for the sake of the performances that earned us a ton of money, but I also couldn’t go too far in the other direction.

  “At first, he said it was about time I started doing the interviews. Joked it would take a load off his shoulders, and I felt bad for putting all that on him for so long. He agreed to what was going to be the biggest interview of our entire career—our first one with Rolling Stone. It scared me, but I told myself I could do it. Kept telling myself that all the way up until the morning of the big day, when he showed up at my place and admitted that he was worried. The interview was a really big deal, and there was no room for mistakes. He got into my head, made me so fucking anxious, and I just remember feeling as if I couldn’t breathe.”

  Jamie’s shoulders dropped at the memory and I reached over to squeeze his knee. “What an asshole,” I said. “He threw you right into the deep end.”

  “Yeah. I told Oliver maybe I shouldn’t do the interview after all, but he said it was too late. I had to be there. Still, he was sympathetic to my panic, so he suggested we take the edge off by having a few drinks. He made me one, then another when I told him it wasn’t enough. We kept going until we finished the entire bottle. I showed up to the interview wasted. I thought I somehow managed to keep myself together and get through it, but when the story came out a month later, I realized the interviewer knew I was drunk. He painted me in a terrible light, and that’s how the rumors about me being an alcoholic started.

  “They didn’t remain only rumors for very long. The experience left me devastated, and suddenly my coaches became unavailable. I’m sure Oliver arranged for that. Without their support, I began to spiral. I started to freeze up again. Oliver was always there, comforting me and eager to help before we were due to go on, which usually meant pounding back a few drinks. The number of drinks it took kept escalating, and it quickly morphed into a habit. One night I had too much, and Oliver offered me some coke. Said it would increase my energy, make me sharp. So I started doing that, too, and he became my supplier. Even when we weren’t touring, he’d come over and give me whatever he had on hand. He orchestrated my addiction perfectly, tugging on just the right triggers and fears until I felt like I was nothing without the alcohol and drugs.”

  A silence descended. I felt nauseous. Oliver had never been Jamie’s friend. He was his enabler. “Oh my God. He’s insane. He has to be to do something like that to another person.”

  Jamie let out a cold chuckle. “Yeah. That’s why Fox called him a psychopath. And the most fucked-up thing was that for years I thought Oliver was helping me. He was so good at making it seem that way. But eventually, I stopped trusting him. I saw how he treated the women he met on tour, how he liked toying with them. I guess seeing him use his techniques on other people finally made me realize he was doing the same to me. For about a year before I left the band, I knew what was going on, but I still couldn’t bring myself to do anything about it. I felt so weak and powerless. He had his people watching me constantly, even when I was at home. My bodyguards were his spies. My doctors were on his payroll. I didn’t have any friends I could call for help.”

  His gray eyes focused in on me. “You saved me that night. Oliver was pissed at me for trying to warn you away from him, so he tossed me a bunch of drugs and didn’t stick around to monitor me. I mixed stuff I knew would get me really fucked up. I know you just think you called the ambulance, but really, you got me out. Abel, too. He stayed with me and made sure they didn’t pull anything to get me discharged without my consent while I was still going through withdrawal.”

  Bile rose in my throat at the thought of Oliver trying to take advantage of Jamie when he was so vulnerable. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “For not believing you.”

  “You had your reasons,” Jamie said.

  “They were very stupid reasons.” I put my chin on top of my knees. “That tour… I was so protective of my memories of it. I refused to consider things weren’t as they seemed. Those two weeks seemed like the peak of my existence. Oliver’s attention changed me. He made me feel good about myself for the first time in my entire life, and I craved that feeling. Then his fury made me feel lower than any low. I thought getting back into his good graces was the only thing that would fix everything I didn’t like about myself.

  “For the past two years, I didn’t try to change the things that bothered me, because it all seemed pointless. It was like he’d made me lose faith in my own autonomy. He held all the power. I can’t believe I thought a guy who forced his dick down my throat was the only one who could fix me.”

  Jamie’s nostrils flared. “He what?” There was a murderous glint in his eyes, and his fingers dug into the sheets.

  “It was the furthest I went with him,” I said quietly. “He was forceful and aggressive. At the time, I convinced myself it was fine, that I was just inexperienced and too sensitive, but now I know it was another red flag I ignored. He didn’t care about me. He was using me all along.”

  Jamie’s hand landed on my knee. “I would have knocked his teeth out today if I’d known he’d done that to you,” he growled.

  I rubbed my biceps. “He’s not worth it. I hope that after today, we never have to talk about him again. He doesn’t deserve another second of our time.”

  Jamie’s eyes still swam with anger, but he nodded. “With the legal case resolved, it’s all over.”

  “How did you win it?”

  He squeezed my knee. “When I got into rehab, I called Oliver and told him I was quitting the band. He said I couldn’t, or I’d never see any royalties on our music again. I hired a lawyer to read over my contract, and that’s when he told me that it listed Oliver as the principal songwriter. He got eighty percent of all our royalties over the years, while I only got twenty. When I quit the band, his father’s record label threatened to illegally withhold any future royalties on top of that.

  “I was so furious. He got me addicted, stole years of my life, and also took the money I’d earned from my songs. So I hired an entire team of lawyers to represent me and swore I’d get every single penny back. It took us some time to build a case, but I had a secret weapon that Oliver didn’t know about. I recorded most of the songs I wrote on my phone during the songwriting process. Whenever I was composing at home, I’d have my phone out so that I could play it back to myself. I kept all those recordings on the cloud, and I used them and the timestamps to prove I was the one who wrote the songs. You should have seen his expression when the jury ruled in my favor. He couldn’t believe I’d outsmarted him.”

  The frown on Jamie’s face melted away. “Do you see now, Ivy? He manipulated me just like he manipulated you. He may have won many battles, but he didn’t win the war. I did. And I know you can, too.”

  I began to cry again, feeling raw and overwhelmed. Jamie rearranged his legs and tugged me to him, wrapping his strong arms around me. My fingers tangled with the fabric of his T-shirt, and I held on to it while I sobbed into his chest.

  “I hate myself,” I blubbered. “Hate how wrong I was about you. I thought I had to be careful not to get too attached to you so quickly. I didn’t want a repeat of what I went through with Oliver. Since we started seeing each other, I’ve noticed changes in myself, positive changes that make me happy, but I kept worrying that it would all go away if we broke up. I kept comparing you to him, as if you were the same.”

  Jamie sighed into my hair. “It makes sense that you’d be cautious. Don’t be so hard on yourself. But for what it’s worth, you’ve been changing me for longer than you know, and those changes have stuck.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It was you who made me decide to finally get clean, Ivy. That very first kiss snapped something in me. I saw the nightmare my life had become, and I wanted to fix it. It took a while for me to find the courage, and I had to wait for the right opportun
ity, but the kiss was the catalyst.”

  A tiny bit of the shame inside my chest became dislodged and disintegrated. “Really?”

  He nudged my chin up. “Yeah.”

  It was good to know that I’d helped Jamie, but I still felt broken. “I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself for being so naive.”

  He moved his face closer to mine. “I’ve spent the past two years trying to forgive myself, and I know how fucking hard it is at times. But it’s a battle worth fighting, because otherwise, we let him win. And he can’t win when it comes to you. I won’t allow it.”

  “It’s not your battle to fight,” I rasped.

  “Don’t you understand?” he asked, his handsome face inches away from mine. “Your battles became my own when I fell in love with you.”

  My lips parted, and my pulse began to race. Seeing the earnest expression on Jamie’s face made hope surge inside my chest. The past few weeks flashed behind my eyes—images of us sprawled on the grass in his backyard, cooking together in his kitchen, laughing at some stupid comedy on TV. Memories of his lips pressed against mine, his hands caressing every part of me, his smiles and his laughs. All those moments added up to something greater than the individual parts. They added up to two people falling in love.

  He swallowed. “I was attracted to you from the moment we met, but I think it was during that walk on the beach that I started to realize it was more than that. I looked at you, and something just felt so right. On the drive home, I was the happiest I’d felt in years. Despite knowing I would probably not see you again, the connection between us prickled at the back of my head for days after. And then you texted about the club, and I told myself it meant nothing, that I deserved nothing. But you made it clear you were interested in me. Every time I saw you, I felt the connection between us grow stronger. On the drive to the dinner with Fox, I knew. I knew that I loved you.

  “There were so many things unsaid between us, so many dark corners we hadn’t explored, but I knew we would one day. I knew I had to fight for you. I don’t care about what happened in your past and I don’t care about the mistakes you made even after we were already together. All I care about is being with you. Right here. Right now.”

  My bottom lip trembled as fear and shame receded at last and made space for something else. He’d discovered he was in love with me on that drive, and I? Right in this very moment. With all of our past wounds and secrets out on display, with full understanding of who each of us was. We were an imperfect work in progress but the potential for something beautiful was there all along. As I gazed into Jamie’s gray eyes, I thought I saw flashes of all his old self within. The insecure teenager, the passionate musician, the struggling addict, and finally, the man he was today. The man I loved.

  “I love you,” I said, snaking my hands around his neck and tugging him closer. He tipped his forehead forward, but his eyes remained fixed on me. “You are so kind, so damn good. I want to be with you, Jamie. I want that with my entire being.”

  He pushed his fingers into my hair. “I don’t think there are words to describe how happy that makes me.”

  “Then don’t use words,” I whispered against his lips.

  He pressed his mouth against mine, and I whimpered as the lingering tension around us finally released. Jamie didn’t break the kiss as he lowered me down on the bed and covered my body with his.

  His weight was exquisitely heavy, but my conscience was light. It was just the two of us now, bare of secrets, lies, and old ghosts. I dragged my hands down his back before I dipped them under his shirt, needing to feel his skin against mine. He moved his lips to the side of my neck and let out a rumbling groan when I dug my fingers into his back.

  Our clothing fell to the floor. In the darkness of the room, his tattoos seemed to move on his arms. He twined his fingers with mine and pressed our clasped hands above my head, catching a nipple with his mouth. I bucked under him as he sucked and sucked, teasing me with his lips and tongue. He rolled his hips, letting me feel how hard he was, how eager, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, tugging him over to the side.

  He yielded to my touch, flipping me to sit across his muscular thighs. I kissed a trail from his hip bones to his lips as I crawled up his body. “Right here,” I whispered as I lowered myself onto his hard, thick cock with one smooth movement.

  Jamie groaned. “Right now.”

  I bore down on him until he filled me completely. I wanted to melt into him, to lose our boundaries until only one whole remained. He panted beneath me and guided my hips with his big hands, moving me on top of him just the way he liked. Our gazes remained locked, and even in the dim light, I could see the raw emotion swimming in his eyes.

  He sat up quickly, holding me steady in his lap, and brought his lips to my ear. “I’m yours, Ivy. Every fucking part of me.”

  When my thighs started to quiver, he reached for my clit. I gasped as the pleasure intensified and forced myself to move faster. I wanted to see him break apart at the same time as me. His jaw tensed, and he let out a strangled groan. “Fuck. Oh God.”

  “Come with me, Jamie,” I whispered.

  He swore and leaned back on one arm to thrust his hips in time with my movement. Heat spread outwards from my center, my muscles clenched around him, and the tight coil inside me unravelled. I came with his name on my lips. He tossed his head back and jerked inside me as he rode his own release.

  We lay in bed until the sun began to rise. I was pressed up to Jamie’s side, my arm thrown around his waist, our legs tangled together.

  “I don’t want to move for the rest of the day,” I told him, pressing a kiss to his chest. “I don’t want to get dressed.”

  “Then we won’t,” he said, the smile clear in his voice. “We can lie here and talk. You can tell me why you never told me I was your first.”

  I propped myself up on one elbow to check his expression. He didn’t seem angry, just curious. I traced a line down his chest with my index finger. “I wanted you so badly, it was like being drunk on lust. I was throbbing the entire time between you leaving the club and me coming to your place the next day.” I couldn’t hold back the laugh at the satisfied expression on his face. “I needed to have you,” I said more seriously. “And I wanted to own the moment I finally did it. I was taking my autonomy back and going after what I wanted. What if I told you and you said no? Maybe I was being selfish, but I didn’t want anyone making that decision for me. And if you knew and still agreed to sleep with me, I was worried you’d behave differently. I just wanted it to be real. I didn’t want you to hold anything back.”

  “It was real,” he said, his voice low. “And I’m glad you did what felt right to you.”

  He meant that. It made me want to wrap myself around him and never let go. I’d found someone whose soul spoke to mine, someone who would always allow me to be my own person. Jamie would never try to change me, but he’d support me through every transformation with his fierce love and acceptance. The world felt impossibly big and open with him by my side.

  Settling back down, I closed my eyes, but a moment later, Jamie rolled on top of me, holding his body up on his elbows as he met my gaze.

  His lips brushed against mine. “Angel?”

  “Yeah?” I asked, smiling.

  “It will always be real between us.”

  Epilogue

  IVY

  Zoey’s suitcase rattled on the floor in our living room as she tried to stuff inside double the volume it was designed to accommodate.

  “I can’t believe you convinced your parents to come out to LA for Christmas,” she complained as she plopped on top of the lid, squishing it down with her ass. “My folks would never do that. What am I supposed to do in River Valley for two weeks without you there?”

  I glanced up at her from the dining table where I was making the place cards for Christmas Eve tomorrow. “The iconic Christmas garden tours, obviously. You always loved those.”

  “Maybe when I was ten. Th
at place has lost its magic. Last time my family went, the cafeteria smelled weird,” she said, scrunching her nose. “And I won’t even get my annual Christmas holiday hug from Cole. It’s really a tragedy.”

  The balled-up piece of paper I threw bounced against her head. “You creep. All the sudden, I’m glad he’s spending Christmas far from your lecherous eyes,” I said, shaking my head.

  Bleeding Moonlight was in the middle of recording an album in a recording studio in Paris and had decided to stay there for the holidays. That was half the reason my parents agreed to come to LA. The other half was the opportunity to meet my boyfriend.

  “They’ve got enough eye candy in France without stealing our own. So have you warned Jamie that your mom will most likely demand a live performance?” Zoey asked, wrestling with the zipper.

  Nial’s place card was finished, and my cursive didn’t look half bad. “I think he’ll be up for it. He’s got a lot of new material he’s been playing for me.”

  “Is he going to release anything?” my friend asked as she finally got the suitcase to close. “Crap, I think I forgot my favorite pair of leggings.” She ducked into her bedroom.

  I grabbed another blank card. This one was going to be for Jamie’s mom, Marie, and I was determined to make it perfect.

  “Not sure,” I said when she returned, leggings in hand. “I don’t know if he wants to do that. For now, he says he’s just writing all of the songs for me.”

  Zoey stopped folding. “Seriously? Jesus, that’s so romantic. I’d be making gagging noises if I didn’t live for that kind of shit.”

  Laughing, I waved her off, but my thoughts jumped to Jamie playing me one of his songs in the morning, both of us naked in bed. When he did things like that, I lost my ability to breathe, let alone speak. On those days, we wouldn’t get out of bed to have breakfast until at least one pm.