Bossy: An Alpha Collection

by Levine, Nina

  “I don’t see a ring on her finger.” Diesel stands firm and I groan on the inside.

  Men!

  I interrupt their dick-slinging back and forth. “I’m with Jett, Diesel, and I certainly don’t need a ring to prove that,” I say with force. He needs to hear this, and he needs to leave us be, because Jett’s getting more worked up every second we stand here.

  Diesel shifts his gaze from Jett to me and asks, “Is he the reason you’re having trouble deciding about the job?”

  Well, shit. Now he’s dumped me in it.

  Jett’s head swings around to face me. “What job is he talking about?”

  I don’t like the way he demands that and my temper begins to unravel as well. Catching Diesel’s attention again, I answer his previous question. “No, he’s got nothing to do with my decision and now if you’ll excuse us, we’ve got something to talk about.” With that, I ignore all of them and stalk outside, hoping Jett will follow me, because we’re about to have a discussion about his jealousy.

  As I step outside onto the footpath, the warm September evening greets me with a whisper of humidity, and I’m thankful I chose a dress tonight over jeans. I turn around to find Jett following close by, the hard set of his jaw revealing his mood. His shift from easy-going Jett to jealous Jett has been swift and it’s brought with it a whole new dimension to our relationship. One I don’t care for.

  “Are you going to tell me what he’s talking about?” he throws at me as soon as he meets me outside, and it just annoys me further. I’d hoped we could discuss this without his bad mood getting in the way.

  “Are you going to back down and let me tell you without having you get the shits at me?”

  His eyes widen and he opens his mouth to say something but clearly realises that’s a bad idea and quickly closes it again. In the end, he simply nods.

  My heart rate has picked up and I’m fighting my own anger now. I try hard to express myself without letting that interfere, but I struggle. “Diesel has offered me a job touring with them for a couple of months, photographing their tour.”

  His face contorts with displeasure. “Diesel the band or Diesel himself?”

  I’m so close to snapping, and I fight like hell to keep myself under control. I don’t like this Jett but I know underneath all this shit is a good man so I try to make him understand he has nothing to worry about. “Diesel the band. I’ve never met Diesel the man until tonight. And I’m not going to take the job so there’s actually no need for this conversation.”

  My words don’t placate him. If anything, he seems to only be getting more worked up. “When were you going to tell me about this?” His voice has taken on a nasty tone and it hurts.

  My resolve to keep my anger in check breaks and I let loose on him. “The other night, actually, but you were wrapped up in your own work problems and I just wanted to let you talk and sort through your stuff so I didn’t tell you. And besides, my decision didn’t involve you, so there wasn’t any great rush to tell you.”

  His eyes widen again and the vein in his neck ticks. “Your decision didn’t involve me? How the fuck can you even say that? I thought we were doing something here - ” he flicks his hand out and points back and forth between us, “ – I thought we were working on an us here, Presley.”

  “We are, but you can’t expect to be able to start bossing me around and telling me what I can and can’t do. That’s never going to happen, Jett. I won’t ever let a man boss me around again.”

  He rakes his hand through his hair. “I’m not fucking bossing you around. I’m just asking to be told what’s going on in your life.”

  “No!” I yell, pointing at him, letting the anger take over completely, “You’re shitty because I was talking to Diesel. You’re shitty because you’re jealous. That’s why you’re here trying to throw your weight around, telling me I have to tell you about shit. I was going to tell you and you just have to trust me on that.” I take a deep breath. “And next time you’re all jealous and wild, you need to calm the fuck down and talk to me rationally because if you’d just remained calm and asked me what he and I were talking about, all of this could have been avoided.”

  “Fuck!” he roars. “I’m not trying to throw my weight around. I just didn’t like being caught off guard like that.”

  “Jett, I don’t deal with jealousy well, so if you’re going to get jealous every time I talk to another male, we’re going to have problems.” I stare at him and wait for his reply. We need to get this under control before we get too far into this relationship and before it becomes a full-blown problem.

  He’s not seeing eye-to-eye with me on this, though, and he stares at me like I’m the one with the problem. “For fuck’s sake, I don’t have an issue with you talking to other men. I’ve told you what I had an issue with and it sure as hell wasn’t that you were talking to Diesel.”

  I raise my brows. “Oh, really? So, I could go back in there and sit with Michael and Diesel, and talk to them for a while, and you would be okay with that?” I can feel the bitch in me coming out, but I can’t stop it.

  “Sure! Be my fucking guest.”

  We stand on the footpath glaring at each other for a good minute or two and then I blow out a long breath. “Fine!” I shout and stalk back inside to get my purse. I’m done with tonight. We’re not getting anywhere, and I need some time out. Just looking at him is making me mad at the moment.

  I pass Michael and Diesel’s table and completely ignore them as I head to ours. The guys all look up as I approach and my mood is obviously written all over my face because they all shrink away from talking to me as I grab my purse. Once I have it, I turn on my heel and almost run into Jett who is standing a few steps behind me, his angry glare focused completely on me.

  “Are you leaving?” he asks, his voice tight, but much more controlled than it was outside.

  “Yes,” I mutter as I push past him.

  “I’ll take you home,” he says as I walk away.

  “I’m fine.” I just need to be on my own and he’s not making this easy now. Damn him and his manners. Even when he’s angry with me, his manners are still there. Who the hell does that?

  I keep walking, not even sure if he’s still with me or not, hoping he isn’t, but as my feet hit the footpath, his voice sounds from behind. “Presley!”

  Sighing, I stop and turn to face him. “I can get a taxi, Jett.”

  I don’t know what he was expecting, but I don’t think it was that. He stares at me for a moment before finally nodding, the set of his jaw hard again. His gaze shifts to the road where there’s a taxi waiting and he moves to it, opens the door for me, and then closes it once I’m in. We don’t say another word and as the taxi pulls away from the curb, I realise this was our first fight.

  Shit.

  14

  Jett

  The first thought that hits me as I wake up the next morning is that I’m going to need copious amounts of water and headache pills to get through the day. My head throbs, and my gut feels ill from the mother of all hangovers I’m experiencing. My second thought is that I fucked up big time with Presley last night and once I get this hangover under control, I need to find her and sort that shit out.

  I stumble out of bed and head into the bathroom for a shower. I’m almost naked when my phone rings. Hoping it’s Presley, I grab for it, but am disappointed to see it’s Doug. “Hey, man, what’s up?” I ask.

  “Jett, the market’s taken another dive, and I think you should convert what’s left of your shares into cash holdings and bonds.”

  My gut drops at his words and if I didn’t feel sick before, I feel really fucking ill now. “How much did it drop this time?”

  “You’ve lost another fifteen percent,” he says, his voice sombre.

  My mind is spinning, trying to think straight. Between the headache and this news, I can hardly begin to make a decision let alone even think about it. “So you recommend that now? Getting rid of the shares?”

&n
bsp; “Yeah, now I do. The market is fucked at the moment. It might not take any more hits, but you just never know. You need to go into preservation mode, my friend.”

  “Do it.” I know I need to make a quick decision and seems as though my mind isn’t at full speed today, I decide to trust him. He’s never led me astray to date.

  “I’m on it,” he says, and we hang up.

  I lean my hands against the edge of the vanity and stare at my reflection in the mirror.

  This will be okay.

  I will fix this.

  West looks up as I enter the recording studio just over an hour later. He grins and raises his brows. “How’s the head?”

  “Almost under control,” I reply, looking around for Van. I ran into Hunter outside but am yet to see Van. “Where’s Van?”

  West shrugs. “No idea, but you’re early. I wasn’t expecting either of you for another hour or so.”

  I pull out my phone. “I’m gonna call him and see if he’s on his way.”

  He frowns. “Fuck, don’t start something with him so early in the day.”

  Looking up at him, I ask, “What?”

  “You two agreed on a time for today so don’t call him and harass him to come early. And what’s gotten into you?”

  “Nothing’s gotten into me,” I mutter, the pain in my head racheting up again.

  “Something clearly has, because you’re here early for once, and you want to get Van here so we can get going. And I didn’t think you even wanted to make this album.”

  “I’ve changed my mind. I do want to make this album, and I want to get this shit done fast.”

  I’ve clearly confused West because he’s almost gaping at me. “What the fuck happened to make you do a complete flip on this?”

  Agitation prickles my skin, and I shove my fingers through my hair. “My shares have taken a hit; a fucking huge hit. I’m bleeding cash, West. I need this to get done.” We’ve always been honest with each other so I lay it out for him.

  His eyes bulge. “Fuck, sorry man.”

  “Yeah. Me too, but it’s done and I can only move forward from here.”

  Van strolls in, interrupting our conversation, and we both turn to him. Dark sunglasses cover his eyes and he looks as trashed as I feel. “I’m here, assholes. My head’s killing like a motherfucker so if we could work on something that doesn’t involve loud noise that would be fucking awesome,” he grumbles as he drops onto the couch in the corner.

  “I feel ya, man,” I agree, and we nod at each other.

  “Why did we think it was a good idea to drink that much shit last night?” Van asks.

  The couch looks inviting so I sit next to him and lay my head back. Fuck, it’s heaven. “Because you were being a dickhead and giving me grief about this goddamn fucking sound of ours.”

  After Presley left, Van and I had continued our argument into the early hours of the morning, consuming a shitload of alcohol in the process.

  “And you were a dick to your girlfriend. That’s right; it’s all coming back to me now.” He turns his head to look at me. “Have you heard from her?”

  “No.”

  He sucks in a breath. “Fuck. You gonna get onto that?”

  “Yeah, but not until later when I can actually form a sentence. That conversation needs me at my best.”

  “I tend to agree with you on that.”

  Hunter’s joined us and is standing in front of where Van and I are sitting. “Did I just hear right? Did you two assholes just agree on something?”

  “Fuck off,” Van snaps at him as he removes his sunglasses and levels a glare on him.

  Hunter ignores him. “Are we getting to work or are you two gonna sit around and bitch like girls all day?”

  “Fuck off,” I echo Van’s sentiments and pull myself up out of the couch. Looking around the room, I ask, “What have we got?”

  “I wrote a song this morning,” Van says, surprising the hell out of all of us.

  “Jesus, with that hangover?” West murmurs.

  “Show me,” I demand, because I know that magic flows when Van’s worked up like he has been lately.

  He pulls out a crumpled piece of paper and hands me the lyrics while he reaches for his guitar. A minute later he’s playing us the song I know will be the first single from our album. And the kicker is that he’s managed to combine our signature sound with the new sound he’s so keen to try.

  We work for thirteen hours straight and finally call it quits just after nine that night. We’ve recorded Van’s new song as well as another one we’ve been working on for a few days. It’s been a long day, but for the first time in ages it feels like we’re finally getting somewhere with this album.

  I head out to my car and call Claudia as I turn on the engine.

  “Have you got a song for me yet?” she asks. I always send her our music while we’re recording because she’s usually spot on with her assessment of it.

  “I have two for you. I’ll send them tomorrow.” I put the car in reverse and pull out of the car park.

  “Are you happy with them?”

  “I think so.”

  “Why the hesitation? That’s not like you?”

  “We’re trying out a new sound so I’m not completely convinced. That’s why I really want your opinion,” I say as I head out of The Valley towards Presley’s place. I haven’t spoken with her all day and I’m at the point where I need her. Fuck making a phone call, I need to see her and touch her.

  “Wow, a new sound. I think it’s a great idea.”

  “Yeah, but we need to get it right, so we don’t turn fans off.”

  “What are you doing now? Wanna come over?”

  “I can’t. I’m on my way to see Presley. I’ve got stuff to fix with her after we had a fight last night.” Claudia knows about Presley and although she hasn’t met her yet, she’s happy I finally have a girlfriend. She’s been on my case to stop screwing around for years.

  “Shit, Jett, you had a fight last night and you haven’t sorted that out yet? If I was Presley, I’d be even madder at you by now. Have you at least spoken with her today?”

  “No,” I admit, “I’ve been busy working all day.”

  She sighs. “You really have no clue how this relationship stuff works, do you?”

  “Fuck, Claudia, I’ve got shit going on with a lot of things at the moment. Presley knows that.”

  “Oh God, you need to pick up your game, big brother. I’ve seen the photos of Presley you sent me and she’s hot. If you don’t look after that relationship, another guy’s gonna come along and show her what she’s missing.”

  Irritation crawls through me, and I slam my hand on the steering wheel. “Fuck, you think I don’t know that? I’m doing the best I can.” The idea of another man even thinking about Presley causes my jealousy to spike. And I fucking hate it as much as Presley does but I’m helpless to stop it. The woman has me all tied up in knots.

  “I suggest you hang up, speed up, and hope like hell she’ll listen to what you have to say to her.”

  “I’m going. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Good luck, ‘cause I think you’re gonna need it,” she says just before ending the call.

  I do as she suggested and press my foot harder to the pedal. Presley’s place is less than ten minutes away, but ten minutes feels like too long after that phone call.

  Fuck.

  When I pull into her car park, the knots in my stomach are worse. I never worry over stuff like this so this is another new feeling for me, and again, I’m not fucking liking it. Damn Claudia and her advice.

  I park the car and jog up to the front door of her apartment building. She doesn’t answer when I buzz her apartment to be let in so I press it again and wait. Still no answer so I pull out my phone and call her. I’m just about to hang up when she answers.

  “Jett, it’s late, and I’m not in the mood to talk to you now.”

  Yep, she’s pissed. Fuck, Claudia was right.

>   “Well, I’m in the mood to talk to you. We need to clear the air after last night.”

  “I’m not sure we would clear the air if we spoke now. Let’s leave it until tomorrow.”

  “No, I don’t want to wait until then.” My voice is forceful; I need to see her.

  She’s silent for a beat and then she gives me a break. “You’re not going to leave, are you?”

  “No.”

  Silence again, and then, “Fine.” And the door buzzes open.

  A couple of minutes later, I’m at her door where she’s standing with it open, waiting for me. Her face shows no sign of happiness to see me but I don’t let that stop me. By the end of our conversation she’ll have come around. I’ll make sure of it.

  “I missed you today,” I say, willing her to believe me.

  “Yeah, my phone records would prove that.” Her tone is ice cold but I plough on.

  “Can I come in?”

  She holds her arm out to let me in but doesn’t say anything. I resist the urge to take her in my arms because I figure that won’t go down well with the mood she’s in, so I walk past her and into her living room. She joins me a moment later, but keeps her distance, and waits silently for me to talk. Her shoulders are tense and there’s no sign of a smile anywhere.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t call you today. I’ve been working since eight this morning and didn’t get a chance.”

  Her eyes don’t leave mine but there’s so much tension in her gaze that I’m not sure what she’s thinking or whether my words are getting through. She surprises me when she finally speaks. “Well, I could have called you so I’m not holding it against you.”

  She might not be holding that against me, but she’s sure as hell not backing down from being upset with me. “So I take it if you’re not upset I didn’t call, you’re still angry from last night?”

  “I never said I wasn’t upset you didn’t call. I simply said I couldn’t hold it against you. There’s a difference, Jett.”