Treyton (A Savage Beasts Rock Star Romance Book 2)
Page 3
I pulled out a bag of M&M’s and my tablet. I slipped off my shoes and tucked my legs beneath me. I’d been reading a book and was dying to find out how the unlikely couple would get their happy ending. But I made it no more than a chapter before my eyelids betrayed me.
Somewhere between sleep and dreaming, I heard the engine whir to life and the plane move forward, shaking as it lifted off the ground.
“You’re snoring, Brie.”
My eyes cracked open and darkness surrounded me. The whirring of the jet filled my ears. I blinked multiple times before focusing on Trey seated beside me. “What are you doing?”
“Sitting next to you.”
“Why?”
“I was getting lonely back there.”
My nose scrunched. “The redhead didn’t scratch that itch?”
Laughter burst out of him. “Scratch that itch? Did you really just say that?”
“Yup.”
He cleared his throat before his voice lowered. “You want all the gory details?”
“Not really. Why are you sitting here?”
“I was hoping to finish our conversation from the hotel.”
“What conversation?”
He smirked. “You know. Belly button ring. Booty shorts.”
My eyes flashed around uncomfortably, but everyone was asleep or wore headphones.
“What’s wrong? You don’t want anyone hearing…” An evil glint shone in his eyes as his voice grew louder. “You have a belly button ring?”
I elbowed him hard.
He just laughed harder. “What? I’m not lying.”
I glared at him, hoping that conveyed my level of annoyance with him.
“I think you’re scared people will think we’re friends,” he said as his laughter subsided.
“We’re not friends.”
“Yeah, but why is that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because your STD-ridden-self can’t keep his dick out of every female he encounters.”
“Untrue. Never had an STD because I wear condoms and get checked religiously. And, my dick hasn’t been in every female because it’s never been in you.”
I rolled my eyes. “Obviously.”
He dragged his teeth over his bottom lip, clicking his tongue ring to the back of his teeth. “Careful, Brie. I love a challenge.”
“And I have a boyfriend.”
“See, you keep saying that, but I don’t think I believe you.”
“Why would I lie?”
He shrugged as he reached over and grabbed my bag of M&M’s that still sat in my lap. “To keep you off limits?”
I scoffed. “To who?”
“Anyone.” He popped a few M&M’s into his mouth.
“I assure you he exists.”
“Then tell me about him.”
Were we really going to do this? “He’s an accountant.”
“Sounds boring.”
“It’s safe.”
“Safe’s boring.”
“Yeah. I should date a rock star.”
“It’d be a lot more interesting.”
I rolled my eyes.
“How long have you been with him?”
“A year.”
Trey searched my left hand, seemingly for an engagement ring.
“We’re not engaged.”
“Why not?”
I shrugged, knowing the truth but smart enough not to confide in him that we were all but a text away from being over. “We’re both busy.”
“Sounds like an excuse.”
I closed my eyes, the conversation exhausting me for more reasons than one. “Is there a point to all these questions?”
He shrugged. “Just want to know more about you.”
“Why?”
“Because it occurred to me that I don’t really know you,” he said.
For the first time ever, I agreed with Treyton Collins. We didn’t know each other. Not at all.
“Let’s make an agreement,” he continued.
“Oh, this is gonna be good. Please tell me it has something to do with you staying out of trouble for the rest of the tour.”
Amusement flashed across his features. “There’s no way I can promise that.”
“Of course, you can’t.”
He heaved a sigh. “Fine. I’ll try. Take it or leave it?”
“What’s the agreement?” I asked, knowing better than to agree to anything without hearing the terms.
His lips slipped into a cocky grin. “I want you to tell me something new about you every day.”
My brows inverted. “Why?”
“Because I told you. I don’t know much about you and I wanna change that.”
I thought for a moment. There had to be more to it. Because knowing Trey, there was always more to it. But, if we were being civil to each other and playing nice, the likelihood of him screwing up may decrease. “On one condition.”
A slow smile pulled up the left side of his mouth. “What’s that?”
“You tell me something about you every day.”
His smile grew, hitting me deep inside.
He’d never smiled at me. Cursed at me? Yes. Glared at me? Absolutely. But smiled? Never.
He held out his hand to shake. “Deal.”
“I’m not shaking your hand.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t know where it’s been.”
His shoulders shook with laughter. “I think you’re scared the electricity between us will intensify.”
My face scrunched. “Electricity?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t feel it.”
“Oh, I feel something. But it’s more like bile rising up the back of my throat.”
“And the bitch is back.”
I snapped my fingers. “Just like that.”
His eyes narrowed and he stared at me for a long time. “She never stays away for long, does she?” he asked, but we both knew it wasn’t a question. When the game face faltered, the bitch returned every time. “I’m gonna find out why that is,” he assured me as he stood from his seat and handed me back my bag of M&M’s. “Oh, and just so you know, I don’t sleep with every girl you see me with.”
My brows dipped, caught off guard by his revelation.
“What’s the good in giving it up that easily? Leaving them wanting more is so much more satisfying.” And, without another word, he walked down the aisle toward the back of the plane, leaving me and my preconceived notions alone.
CHAPTER FIVE
Brielle
“I can’t understand why you’re still fucking there,” my father barked through the phone.
I said nothing as I paced the floor of my Japanese hotel room, knowing not to speak when he was fired up.
“I need you back here. We’ve got a new client who needs help.”
My head flinched back. “Who’s the client?”
“An up-and-coming rapper. Flow House with a Z.”
“Flow Houz?”
“You heard of him?”
“Nope. Why does he need help? What’d he do?”
“Gun charges.”
I closed my eyes as my head dropped back, trying to think of a way to spin gun charges. “Where was he carrying the weapon?”
“Irene’s emailing you all the information right now.”
“I’ll get working on it as soon as I get it.”
“I’m serious, Brielle. You need to get your ass back here. Savage Beasts is a well-oiled machine at this point. You can handle them from the office.”
I wanted to tell him that I needed the break. That working for him had caused me unnecessary anxiety. That Keith and I were missing something in our relationship that I thought I’d figure out continents away. That—
“Brielle,” my father growled, interrupting my thoughts. “I’m not asking.”
Of course he wasn’t. He wasn’t the type of man to ever ask for anything. It was his way or the highway. The dead air on the other side of the call confirmed that.
I lowered myself down onto the edge of the bed and heaved a deep breath. He’d been right about one thing. Savage Beasts was a well-oiled machine. But didn’t he realize I was part of the reason why they functioned so well? Why their reputation never got tainted in the press?
* * *
“I can’t play the violin.”
I glanced up from where I sat on a chaise lounge in the hotel lobby in Tokyo. I’d been making calls and working on my press release for Flow Houz while waiting for my car to arrive to take me to the arena.
Trey stood in front of me in his usual concert attire: torn jeans and a sleeveless black T-shirt purposely showing his tatted-up left arm. The shading in his tattoos accentuated each ridge in his bicep. I was slowly learning that the music notes, drumsticks, piano keys and eagles, all interwoven with dark lightning bolts and symbols, were a true representation of Trey.
“Why are you telling me this?” I asked.
“Our deal.”
I’d almost forgotten I’d made a deal with the devil. “Why don’t you play the violin?” I asked, not really in the mood to do this with him. I had work to do and a father who was up my ass.
He shrugged. “I never liked the sound of them.”
“They’re making a comeback, you know?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Drums are my passion now.”
“I would’ve thought piano was. You play like you were born to do it.”
His eyes widened. “Holy shit.”
“What?”
“I think you just gave me a compliment.”
“It definitely wasn’t a compliment,” I assured him.
“Oh, yes it was.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever, Trey.”
With a smug grin, he crossed his arms across his chest, giving me a better view of his biceps. Playing the drums had undoubtedly made them bigger. “Your turn,” he prompted.
My eyes snapped up from his arms to his eyes. “I can’t play the violin either.”
“Lame.”
My head retracted. “Why?”
“You totally copped my fact and it has nothing to do with you.”
“I can’t play the violin,” I clarified.
“Yeah, but these facts have to be something that says something about you. Who is Brie Patrick?”
My eyes scanned the lobby, focusing in on the golden Buddha with the small pool of water in front of it filled with shiny coins tourists had tossed in hoping to make their wishes come true. Currently, I wished I knew how to answer Trey’s question.
Who was Brie Patrick if not the bossy publicist who got things done? The last carefree Brie I could remember was in college, having the time of her life with her friends, hooking up with frat guys and just enjoying life. Those were the last good memories I could recall. Since then it’s been work, trying futilely to make my father proud, trying to salvage a failing relationship, and being a bitch so people respected me. God, I was a walking cliché.
“I’ll tell you what,” Trey said.
My eyes flashed back to him as his words pulled me from the truth.
“I’ll count that one for today, but moving forward I want something good. Something you don’t tell other people.”
“Why?”
He smirked, the only answer I’d get as he backed away from me and crossed the lobby to the bank of elevators.
“Ms. Patrick?” a man called.
I swung around.
A young Asian man in a dark suit greeted me. “I’ve got your car out front.”
I nodded, glancing back to the elevators, but Trey had already disappeared.
I pushed myself to my feet and followed my driver outside to the waiting car. The rainy season in Japan had just ended, so the stickiness in the air clung to my business suit. I slipped into the backseat and pulled out my phone, checking my email as we drove through the bustling streets to the concert venue.
When we arrived, I entered through the back door, flashing my neck lanyard with my credentials at the security guard. I made my way to the backstage area. Food and drinks were plenty and the sofas were set up in a square. That way the band would be together preshow and not separate. It was important to Z to create a family vibe. I often wondered why family was so important to him. And why he never discussed his past or family. But if you were in Z’s presence for more than a few minutes, you knew those questions were off limits, and with him, what you got was what he determined you got.
“How’s it look?” BJ asked as he stepped backstage, his eyes assessing the area.
“Everything looks in order.” I dropped down onto one of the sofas.
“You look tired. Why don’t you head back to the hotel after meet and greets?” BJ suggested. “I’ve got it covered.”
I scoffed.
“I’m serious. You’re not used to this life. It seems like it’s taking a toll.”
“In other words, I look like shit?” I said.
His hands shot up. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
He huffed, and the way he avoided my eyes as he did it told me I was missing something.
“Spill it,” I said. “Did someone say something about me being here?”
He stared across the space between us, saying nothing.
“Who was it? Z? Aubrey?”
He shook his head.
My eyes splayed. “Treyton?”
He shook his head again. “None of them. Though, they’re all pretty surprised you lasted this long.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re used to ordering them around from your cushy office in LA. The road isn’t for everyone.”
“And?”
“And, we may have made some wagers on how long you’d stay.”
My mouth opened. “Sons of bitches.”
He snickered.
“And?”
“And, Treyton’s the last man standing.”
My brows inverted. “Which means?”
“Which means he said a month and a half. That gives you two more weeks.”
My heart began to thump hard in my chest. Was that why he was being nice to me? Was that why he was trying to strike up a friendship? To get me to stay longer so he could win some bet? “What’s he get if he wins?”
BJ shook his head, his lips remaining zipped.
“You told me this much. Why not tell me everything?”
He shook his head.
“How long did you think I’d last?”
He tucked his lips, hiding a smile.
“Tell me.”
“A week.”
“A week?”
He shrugged. “Like I said. The road isn’t for everyone.”
I scoffed, more pissed than annoyed. I hated knowing I was part of something I knew nothing about. I hated that I was the butt of everyone’s joke. I hated that Trey had played me.
* * *
The show ended and the guys made their way backstage. I was pissed at every last one of them for betting on my ability to be on the road. Aubrey greeted Z and they took off, likely back to the hotel. Camden, Marcus, and Trey grabbed drinks and sat on the sofas. I watched them laugh. The sound ate away at my sanity. Were they laughing at me? Were they laughing every time they saw me, surprised I was still there?
Movement near the door caught my attention. BJ ushered female fans backstage wearing tight Savage Beasts T-shirts. Their faces lit up once they spotted the guys on the sofas. The guys, looking equally excited, scooted over and made room for the girls to sit beside them or on the arms of the sofas. I wondered if they’d be able to communicate with the fans without an interpreter. Internally, I held up my hands. Not my problem.
I had a whole new view of groupies now. I’d always believed Trey was sleeping with every last one of them. Now I knew he wasn’t, and I couldn’t quite wrap my head around the notion since it’s what I believed to be the case for five years. Even still, I wasn’t hanging around to see if tonight was the night he did.
CHAPTER SIX
Brielle
The following morning, I grabbed coffee and a muffin from the continental breakfast spread in the hotel and made my way toward the elevators to head back to my room. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Z and Aubrey walking toward the entrance wearing backpacks, their smiles fixed on one another. Camden and Marcus followed a few feet behind. And BJ behind them. Once BJ spotted me, fear swept across his features.
“Hey,” I said, my eyes questioning what was going on. I was the one in charge of scheduling appearances so I could control PR that came from those appearances, and they definitely didn’t have one.
BJ begrudgingly walked toward me. “Hey.”
“Did we have something today I didn’t know about?”
He shook his head, clearly trying to avoid eye contact like he had the previous night. “Z
just…well, he had an idea for uhhh…for like a team bonding thing.”
I cocked my head, obviously not understanding since I was part of the team.
“It’s nothing you’d be into anyway,” BJ quickly added.
My grip on my plate and coffee tightened. “In other words, I wasn’t invited.”
“No, it’s just—”
“It’s fine. I knew Z wasn’t going to get over what I did. I just thought
I was slowly becoming part of the team again.” I felt myself starting to get upset, but I straightened my spine and donned my bored face. “Whatever.”
“Brielle. You wouldn’t be into rafting anyway. Your glasses would get wet.”
I scoffed, knowing they weren’t even prescription glasses. “Have fun.” I walked around him and stopped at the elevators. With my plate in my hand, I jammed my finger into the button more pissed than I realized.
The elevator pinged and the doors split apart. Trey stood inside, wearing a backpack. “‘Sup, Brie?”
The sight of him so nonchalant twisted a knot in my stomach. Was he really going to act like
it was fine to exclude me? Better yet, was he really going to pretend he hadn’t bet on me leaving in two more weeks?
“Sup, Brie?” I asked. “Really?”
He stepped out of the elevator, but held his hand there to stop the doors from closing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”