Rock Star Romance Ultimate Volume 2

by Mankin, Michelle

  “Where’s the car?”

  “In the parking garage.”

  “No flat, huh?”

  “No.”

  “So you lied to me to get me here.” She shrugs. “Don’t you think you should have given me a fucking heads up, Mads? Fuck.”

  She nods toward Tallia. “You gonna say hi to her?”

  I turn and do my best to act unaffected as I give her a nod. “Tales.”

  “Hi,” she whispers, her lower lip popping out a bit.

  I look away before I can’t. “So why am I here?” I ask Madison.

  “Geesh, you don’t have to be a fucking assh—”

  “Madison, don’t,” Tally says sadly.

  I look back at her.

  “We need to talk.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m kind of not in a place to talk right now.” I stare right at her pouty, little lips, remembering the last thing I said to her about them. I think of her dad, hoping it keeps the impending erection at bay.

  “I need to tell you something,” she says, looking down at her hands. She’s wringing the hell out of them, and quite frankly, I’m nervous.

  “You pregnant?”

  She smiles and shakes her head. She then lets out a cute as hell, nervous, little chuckle and looks up at me.

  Emerald City has a storm brewing, and it ain’t just a sprinkle.

  I pull a barstool up and sit.

  “First, promise me you won’t hate me. Even if you do, tell me you don’t so I don’t have to live my life thinking any worse of myself than I already do,” she says as the first tear falls.

  “Keep talking, Tales, because right now, I’m ready to rip his fucking head off.”

  “Memphis, you asshole, she isn’t fucking anyone.”

  I don’t look at Madison. Quite frankly, I wish she would walk away and leave me alone with Tales. Whatever she says to push me away is gonna hurt, and I don’t need the little queen to see that shit.

  “Tales, she need to be here?” She nods. “Okay, so you need her for moral support? Just spill it, would ya?”

  “I caught Dad in bed with someone when he visited me in Chicago.”

  “Right, our dad’s a low life cheat. I get it.”

  “I caught my dad kissing someone right before I left for Julliard,” Tales whispers.

  “Seriously? Your dad was fucking around, too? Tales, if that’s what this is about...if you’re worried all men are fucking scum, I can promise you—”

  “It was your father,” she whispers.

  “The person I caught Dad with in Chicago was Tally’s father.”

  I feel like I have just been punched in the gut. Like the blonde kid in the movie with the green lighted sword—Luke, that’s his name—when he found out that fucked up black, robot-looking, evil thing was his father. Yeah, I know how the poor son-of-a-bitch felt.

  “This is a joke, right?” It has to be. “This is a prank. This is—” I stop when Tales grabs my hand and shakes her head.

  “I am sorry for what I did by not telling you.”

  I pull my hand back and stare at her. She’s not fucking around.

  I look at Mads. “You caught them playing hide the fucking salami?”

  Tales giggles, and I whip my head around to glare at her.

  “Sorry, it’s just—” Then the storm hits. “I should have told her. I should have told you.”

  “But you didn’t, because you wanted the fucking fantasy, just like every other fucking chick I’ve fucked.” I stand up and throw a hundred on the bar. “I’m out.”

  I leave, feeling sick to my stomach, pissed off, I wanna destroy something! Then I feel a tug on my hand. Just by a touch, I know it’s her.

  “Don’t walk away from me until I have given you the entire truth. If you’re going to hate me, you’re going to do it forever, but don’t you walk—”

  I turn, tug her arm, and then walk as quickly as I can to the entrance. People are starting to look, and I don’t need that shit. Don’t want it either. I wanna be left alone to process this, this fucking mess.

  Outside, I give the valet my ticket.

  “Give me just a minute, sir,” he tells me.

  “No, he’s staying for dinner with his sister. Call me a cab.”

  My fucking jaw drops at her audacity.

  “You think you get to tell me what to do, Tales?”

  She shakes her head vigorously. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I am to you. I do know she’s your sister, and she always will be, and …” She stops and grabs my hand. “Two minutes, that’s all.”

  When she pulls hard at my hand, I decide to hear her out, just hear what she has to say. I want to know the what she thinks will make me hate her.

  Once we’re around the building and in the alley, she turns and looks at me. “After I saw them”—my stomach turns—“I kind of got angry and, I guess, confused, too, just like you right now. I … I’m sorry. I don’t know how to say this. I mean, so what, right?” She drops my hand and throws hers in the air. “God, I am so selfish. I—”

  Nope, I can’t do this right now. “I need to leave.”

  “No! No, you don’t.” There is panic in her voice, and she is fisting her hair in her hands.

  I hold back from comforting her because I don’t know how to process all of this.

  “Mads … Mads knew and didn’t tell, because she was so afraid you’d lose focus on tour. She was afraid your mother would fall apart, but Memphis, she fell apart. Mads fell apart, and she is still falling.” She slaps her hands on her thighs and starts pacing back and forth. “None of this is fair, and she needs you, and you’re gonna need her, too.”

  She spins on her heels and looks at me. “And you starting a tour...I mean, all press is supposed to be good press, but can you handle it, or will you have to prove your sexuality for all of the country?” She squeezes her eyes closed. “Not that it’s any of my business, but please don’t do that to yourself.”

  She takes in a deep breath. “I didn’t know who to talk to. I couldn’t talk to Mads, and I sure as hell couldn’t talk to my mom, still can’t. So I just shoved it down deep and let it soak. And, well”—she covers her face—“I got mad that I would never be able to think or even hope that maybe someday you would kiss me again for real and not just because you were drunk. I fantasized about that kiss for years, Memphis, and it just wasn’t fair. God, I must sound so stupid to you.” She resumes her pacing. “So I slept with Jones.”

  Hearing her say the name of some guy she banged pisses me off.

  “I slept with him because I knew, at seven ten p.m. on Sunday night, my father would call.”

  I have no idea what the fuck that has to do with anything. I look at her as she peers up at me, Emerald City hidden behind a curtain of dark brown locks.

  “I told Jones to answer my phone, and he did, and then...Well, then my father flipped, and I didn’t deny what a sinner I was, because I didn’t care. I didn’t care, because everything he said to me was a lie. And then do you know what happened, Memphis?”

  God, the need to comfort her is overwhelming. “I think so, Tales.”

  “He died. He died a week later of a heart attack because of me.”

  “He didn’t die because of you.”

  “Did so.” She starts pacing again. “So I’m a terrible person. Even worse, because then I agreed to a vacation, knowing damn well you’d be there, and I basically prayed you and I would...you know.”

  I needed a better fucking explanation to what she was talking about. Was it was revenge, was it the fucking fantasy? “Because I’m getting famous. Because I’m a bunch of chicks’ fantasy, because—”

  “Because you’ve been mine since the day you pushed Johnny Stone down when he was picking on me, then just kept walking. Because you always did things like that. You were merciless at times, but I always made myself think it was because maybe, just maybe, I was your fantasy, too. I know how stupid that sounds, but you were nice to me. You didn’t judge me; you stuck
up for me. When everyone else picked on my clothes, you complimented them. You watched cartoons with me and Madison. You still call my T-shirts vintage and make them seem cool, but they are not, Memphis. They’re hand-me-downs or thrift store finds. Did you know that the only clothes I have ever worn that were new are my underwear?”

  I shake my head no in answer.

  “In my very lonely childhood, you were ever-present. You were my fantasy first, so yes, yes, I knew. Hell, I even pretended I didn’t know you were going to be there so Madison didn’t see through me, because she has a tendency to do that, you know.”

  I nod.

  “But when you came out with those two girls, all I could think about was my mother and how disappointed she would be in me, and I don’t like to disappoint people; did you know that? Did you know that, Memphis?”

  “Yeah, Tales, I knew that.” Even as a kid, being the better dancer between her and Mads, she stepped aside and let Mads play lead in every little backyard production they ever gave my mom. Same thing with her parents, Tally toed the line. She was the perfect kid.

  “Then I couldn’t stop myself. I couldn’t, because my fantasy—the Memphis who was always my knight in black leather and ink—said things to me that, even though I didn’t know I wanted to hear them, affected me.”

  “Tales—”

  “Please don’t say anything. Just kiss me or push me against a wall or let me go down on my knees for you again, because I don’t wanna think. I want to feel.” She steps forward and grabs my shirt. I see her mustering up courage before she pushes herself up on her tiptoes and leans in.

  “Can’t kiss you, Tales.” I step back regretfully.

  “Then let me kiss you,” her eyes and voice plead in unison.

  “No, I can’t allow that, either.” Someday I will laugh at this, but not now.

  She nods. “I understand. I do. I understand. I mean...” She turns her back to me, and I hate it. I want to see her eyes.

  I grab her hand. “Look at me, Tales.”

  “I don’t need you to make this okay for me. I just need you to be okay and accept my apology. I need you to soar.”

  “Turn the fuck around,” I growl. “I won’t soar alone, and I sure as fuck can’t do it with you right this minute.”

  She does, very slowly, asking with a whisper, “Can you forgive me?”

  “Tell me what you want from me.”

  “To forgive me.”

  “Done, but I need time to process it all. What else?”

  She shakes her head, her face flushed red.

  “Need time for that, too.”

  “I understand. Be happy, okay? Be happy and be safe.”

  “Tell me, Tales.” I see it in her face, I just need to hear it and I really need her to say it.

  “I did.”

  “Fuck that. Tell me the truth about us, Tales. At the very least, tell me the truth about what you want from me.”

  “Fine!” She slaps the tears now falling down her face. “I want you to trust me and know I would never avoid telling you the truth again. And not just for you, for me, too, because it hurts right here.” She holds her hand over her chest. “I wish I had kept you a fantasy because it hurts too much right here.” She hits her chest harder now.

  “Don’t do that, Tales. Jesus.” I grab both her hands in one of mine.

  “I love you. I love you, and I want to be with you, and—”

  “Don’t you say that shit to me right now,” I snap at her, and she looks scared. “Fuck!” Forever Steel equals forever fucked right now. Dammit!

  “Sorry, but I had to tell you, or if you’ll let me, I’ll show you.” She has just opened up completely to me, and I can do fuck-not about it.

  “Can’t let that happen now, either.”

  She nods and sniffs loudly. “Okay. I’m sorry. I just—”

  I take her hand and shove it down the front of my pants. “Feel this, Tales, but be nice.” I push her hand farther in, and she gasps.

  “What happened to you? Do you have a—”

  “I liked it, so I put a fucking ring on it.”

  “What?” She almost laughs the nervous laugh I enjoy so much.

  I pull her hand away. “It’s a dolphin”—I almost smirk—“topped with a prince. Google it then call me in about four to six weeks and tell me what you told me a few seconds ago.

  “Fuck fuckity fuck!” I turn to walk away and stop. “Go eat dinner with my sister!” I bark “Fuck, Tales, I have to get out of here.” I turn back and kiss her. Can’t help myself, but it’s quick. “Don’t ever keep shit from me again.”

  “I won’t, not ever.”

  Damn right you won’t, I think. “Tales?”

  “Yes?”

  She is smiling, and I know she expects me to say the words back, but that’s not going to happen right now. I have got to be pissed, or I’ll never have the upper hand.

  “Next time you see me, you’ll be on your knees, and I’m gonna be so backed up you’re gonna have to chew my come before you swallow it.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  * * *

  SCHEDULED

  Tallia

  I googled dolphin and prince as soon as I got home from dinner with Madison, which was a couple of hours later. We had a lot to talk about.

  Offensive!

  Intimidating!

  Interesting...

  And...

  Intriguing.

  Madison sends me a text three days later. Memphis doesn’t.

  It’s a partial tour schedule.

  I swallow hard and have to sit down as I read over it, then send back a text.

  That’s amazing! He deserves this and so much more. Is his hand okay? Is he healing well? Is he resting? That schedule looks grueling.

  She doesn’t respond. I look at the phone for a good two hours, waiting.

  There’s a knock at the door, and I open it.

  “Tales?” the deliveryman with a huge basket full of white Gerber daisies asks.

  I nod and smile. I even laugh as I take them.

  “Thank you so much.” Then I hug him. Why? I have no idea.

  “You do know they’re not from me, don’t you?” He looks confused.

  “Yes, yes, of course I do. Sorry.” I shut the door because he starts to look at me funny, and not funny as in ha, ha. Funny as in creepy.

  I carry them to the table, set them down, and grab the card.

  It reads:

  - Heads, you stop worrying. Tails, keep that shit up. It makes me happy. Either way, Tales wins- MB

  My mom comes in and sees the flowers and looks at me suspiciously.

  “They’re beautiful, right?” I ask.

  “Yes. Who are they from?”

  “MB, so it’s either Madison or Memphis.”

  “Memphis Black?” She looks at me strangely, and I nod. “Be careful, Tallia. He lives in a much different world, honey.”

  A week passes, and the dance tour company hands out the travel schedule as we leave rehearsal. It’s more than seventy-five percent West Coast cities. My knee-jerk reaction is to take a picture of it and text it to Madison, but right now, I have thirteen seven-year-olds who love ballet stretching and waiting for their class to start. They make my day brighter for sure. They actually make three days a week brighter, and they are my absolute favorite class to teach.

  The hour flies by and ends with a circle, all holding hands, all smiling, and all ready and excited for the next day.

  The last part of my day is my least favorite class, but it pays well. It’s also three days a week, and an adult aerobic-dance class.

  Nine hours of dance today, and I am exhausted. Exhaustion is something I welcome with open arms, though.

  I walk out and punch the code to lock up for the night.

  “Tallia?”

  I look back to see where the raspy voice is coming from and see a blonde woman. She’s beautiful, standing in front of a black town car.

  “Can I help you?”

>   “I sure hope so. I’ve been watching you for the past couple days. Two of my dancers take your class. You’re phenomenal.” She steps forward and extends her hand; I shake it.

  “Thank you.”

  “One of my dancers fell and fractured her ankle during a practice last week. They mentioned you may be a perfect match to do a gig for a month, more if we mesh.”

  “Sounds intriguing, but I am already part of a dance team, and we’re touring for three months.”

  “I’m not gonna beat around the bush here, but I do my homework. I know what they pay, and I can double it.”

  I look at her skeptically. “Nothing illegal?”

  She smiles, which puts me at ease. “This isn’t normal for me. I don’t go looking for the talent, but when they talked you up, I had to make an exception. One month, double pay. Google me: I manage a band. When you see who I am, I know you’ll want in. It’s a good gig.” She hands me a card. “Give Jane a call; I need a decision tomorrow. If you don’t want in, I need to find someone fast.”

  I take the card. “Thank you.”

  “Double the pay, five hour days, and a fifteen hundred dollar bonus”—she looks down at my beat-up dance shoes hanging from my gym bag —“and I’ll throw in a decent pair of shoes.”

  I start to walk away.

  “Tallia?”

  “Yes,” I say, turning around.

  “I don’t need this getting out. There are people who love to talk shit about me, and I require anyone who works for me to sign a confidentiality agreement.”

  “Understood.”

  I finally make it home, thinking how nice it would be to buy a car and avoid the train. I normally don’t mind, but the three days a week that are long days kill me.

  Mom is asleep. She has a long weekend planned with her church group. She seems happy now. She is smiling again, spreading sunshine.

  I hear a light knock on the door as I smell the flowers. I walk over and look through the peephole.

  My heart skips a beat and then another. He looks beautiful … And now he’s running his hands through his hair and turning around.

  Quickly, I unlock the chain then the deadbolt, and I open the door.

  “Hey,” I say, trying not to act like I am over-the-moon to see him. He turns around.