The Rockstar’s Girlfriend (B.I.G. Girls Club, Book 1)

by Lillianna Blake

  Hello?

  Do you want to get a drink? What are you doing?

  Nicole. Call me. Not cool.

  I sighed and also realized that I had a gigantic knot in my stomach about talking to Joe. I glanced at the time—9:30. Why wasn’t Joe at practice tonight anyway? I pulled up his number and punched the speaker button as I started the twenty-minute drive back to my place.

  “Hey, where’ve you been?”

  “Hi to you too.”

  Be cool.

  I continued, “What are you doing right now? Wanna come over for a little while?”

  “Why aren’t you answering my question? Where were you tonight, babe?”

  I could hear the irritation in his voice, but I didn’t want to explain anything over the phone.

  “With some new friends. I’ll tell you more when you come over, okay? I really wanna talk to you. Kind of a lot of stuff has happened since last night.” I smiled, hoping it would make my voice sound bright and positive.

  “Oh, I dunno, Nic. I’m pretty tired. What kind of stuff is happening? How ’bout tomorrow?”

  “I can’t tomorrow. I work.”

  “Tomorrow night. We’re rehearsing during the day this week.”

  “I can’t tomorrow night.”

  I’m rehearsing also. So there.

  “Babe, what are you doing tomorrow night? Why are you acting so weird? You’re starting to annoy me now.”

  I’m annoying you? You’re annoying me.

  I sighed and didn’t bother not to do so right into the phone. “Joe, just come over. We need to talk.”

  I waited a few seconds for Joe to answer.

  “Okay. I’ll be over in twenty minutes.”

  And then he clicked off the phone before I had the chance to say goodbye.

  I put my phone back in my purse and focused on some deep breathing exercises that Zara had taught me. I tried to think about how I was feeling in the moment, because my first thought was to go find a drive-through and stuff my face with a couple of cheeseburgers—to stuff my feelings of frustration and apprehension about talking to Joe about all of this great stuff that was happening in my life.

  Why can’t he just be happy for me? Please, just let him be happy for me!

  I was proud of myself for not grabbing for cheeseburgers—for nibbling on a few of the crackers that I’d packed into my purse before the drive downtown earlier that night. It had been a long time since I’d splurged on fast food; I wasn’t about to turn a great night into one of regret and feeling bad about decisions that I was making that affected my health and current weight-loss efforts.

  I knew that it was okay to splurge once in awhile and I did allow myself that, but I just didn’t want it to be as a knee-jerk reaction to something I was feeling. I was trying to be more thoughtful about the food choices I was making these days, and those decisions had really been paying off in positive ways.

  I glanced in the mirror as I waited for another stoplight. I looked good tonight. And I felt good. I had to smile as I thought about so many conversations that I’d had with Zara over the past months about self-esteem and how so much of it had to do with the thoughts in our head.

  Before, I’d always thought that it only had to do with my body weight and whether or not the scale had been cooperating with me that day. Now I knew that it was directly tied to the voices inside my head and which ones I was choosing to listen to.

  I’d only actually lost about five pounds over the past month or so, but standing with the mic tonight among the members of the band, I felt like a rocker princess.

  I smiled as the description struck me. That was my new mantra. I felt it in my core and didn’t think that Zara would mind me borrowing just a bit from her own warrior princess mantra. It was my time to be the rocker princess I was born to be.

  I laughed out loud and decided then and there that regardless of how the conversation went with Joe tonight, I was going to remain strong—to keep my own dreams in front of me for once. And I’d choose to think positive.

  Joe and I hadn’t seen one another for a few days. Maybe he’d surprise me and actually be missing me a little bit—maybe Joe would actually be supportive of all the good news that I had to share with him.

  Maybe Joe would want me to be his rocker princess again.

  Even as I had the thought, a single tear made its way down my cheek.

  Chapter 11

  I saw Joe parking his truck just as I made the turn onto my street. I watched him get out and take a last puff of his cigarette before he noticed me pulling in across the street. My breath caught just a bit, as it sometimes did when I hadn’t seen him in awhile. Joe was totally my type—that perfect mix of bad boy and ruggedness. He smiled slightly, but if I were good at reading body language, I’d think that he didn’t seem so happy to be there. I took a deep breath and opened my car door.

  Joe crossed the street toward me, leaning in to give me a quick kiss on the lips.

  “Hi, babe.”

  “Hi.” I looked at him and smiled. Think positively, Nicole. “Thanks for coming over.”

  He nodded and I saw his eyes taking me in. “You haven’t worn that jacket in a while. Where were you?”

  I’d dug my leather jacket out at the last minute tonight before leaving to meet the band. I’d had to dig in my closet, and finally found it tucked away at the very back. It did fit me, but barely. I’d purchased it after gaining quite a bit of weight—to replace the one I used to wear to all the clubs with Joe. It would look better when I lost another twenty pounds, but I’d worn it tonight anyway—because I thought it would help me channel my rocker vibe. I smiled at the thought and the recent memory of singing with Kaz and the band.

  I started walking toward my apartment and Joe followed.

  “Come on in. Let’s sit down.”

  I swore I saw Joe scowl, but I wasn’t going to let it affect me.

  “Do you wanna beer?”

  Joe nodded his head and sat down on one end of the sofa.

  I grabbed two beers out of the fridge and joined him on the couch.

  “So what’s up with you? You’re acting weird—way weird,” said Joe, taking a big swig of his beer.

  “Nothing’s up, really—I mean, it’s all good, all things I’ve been wanting to tell you.”

  “Go on.”

  “So you know that I went to the karaoke bar with Zara last night.”

  I had invited Joe and he’d declined as I figured he would. Joe wasn’t really into mediocre music events at small bars—his words, not mine.

  He nodded his head. “Yeah.”

  “Well, somehow Zara and the others convinced me to get up on stage to sing.” I looked at him carefully. “You know it’s been a while for me, so of course I was nervous and everything. It was a small miracle that I actually made it up there, but I did.”

  “Okay. And?”

  “And I was really good, Joe. Everyone loved it. And I’d forgotten how wonderful it felt to sing on stage like that.”

  I tried to read his face—to see if his expression was changing at all. Nothing.

  “Okay. I don’t get it. I mean, you know that you can sing, babe. What’s so surprising about that?”

  “When is the last time you heard me sing? Have you ever really listened to me sing?”

  I really wanted to know the answer.

  “Now you’re being silly. Of course I’ve heard you sing. You sing in the car all the time.”

  This wasn’t even a true statement. I rarely sang in the car any more—at least not when Joe was around. For some reason his statement and this new thought in my head made me angry all of a sudden—angrier than I meant to be feeling during this conversation.

  “I don’t—sing in the car. I don’t sing around you at all. And how come we’ve never sung together?”

  I couldn’t really blame him for the confused look on his face. I was coming at him full force with something that we’d never really discussed before.

  “Nicol
e, what are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about the fact that I used to sing in a band and then for some reason, I quit everything to be your girlfriend.”

  I hadn’t wanted to cry, but there was no stopping the tears now. I reached into my purse for a tissue and waited for Joe to make some sort of move toward comforting me. He never had been good with tears. Some guys were just uncomfortable around a lot of emotion, and Joe was definitely one of those guys. He had little patience for my tears, really.

  “Babe. I never asked you to give up anything. I don’t even know what you’re talking about or why you seem so angry with me all of a sudden.”

  I took a deep breath, willing myself to calm down.

  “Maybe you didn’t, but it’s how I felt at the time. And now, remembering it all, it just feels like I gave up a lot for you—for us. And I dunno. I just feel like you never really appreciated the fact that I had—that I have—some talent also. It—it just doesn’t feel good to me.”

  Joe was quiet beside me and I could guess that he wasn’t sure what to make of all this—what to make of me. I’d been a pretty mellow girlfriend for most of the time that we’d been together, so he wasn’t used to having to handle me when I was unhappy. I usually saved that for venting to my girlfriends. But I don’t think that had done me—done us—any favors in our relationship.

  “Nicole, I really don’t appreciate that you had me come over here to get yelled at about God knows what—I’m tired and none of this is making any sense right now.” He stood up from the sofa.

  Don’t leave.

  I’d approached the conversation all wrong, and now Joe was going to leave without my really telling him anything important.

  “Wait. I’m sorry. For the outburst, I mean.” I stood up also, placing my hand on his shoulder. “Please sit down. I promise that all of this is going to make more sense. I do have some things I need to talk to you about.”

  He looked more than a little skeptical as he sat back down on the coach.

  I sat back also, trying to gather my next words in my head before blurting them all out wrong again.

  Chapter 12

  Joe took a swig of his beer and sat looking at me, waiting for me to continue.

  “So, last night when we were leaving the bar, a guy came up to me—up to us. He liked my voice and wanted to know if I’d be interested in hearing his band rehearse. He said that they’d been looking for a female lead.”

  Something flicked across Joe’s face and I saw the tension in his neck. He wasn’t used to other guys talking to me. It was him that always got all of the attention when we were out in a club together.

  “So that’s where I was tonight—at their rehearsal downtown. They have a great sound, actually. I think you’d like them.”

  As I stopped to take a breath, I realized that my heart was beating faster than normal. Please be supportive. I waited for Joe to say something but he was taking his sweet time.

  “So what exactly are you saying? That you’ve suddenly realized that you want to be in a band?”

  Are you even listening to me?

  “I’m saying that I realize that it’s something that I’ve always wanted—something that I gave up four years ago.”

  Saying the words out loud made me realize just how badly I did want this. I wanted to have a career in music and it always should have been my career—or maybe saying that I wanted a career in music was setting a lofty goal, but I knew that I wanted to be singing again.

  “Joe, I was good—back then, I mean.”

  For some reason it was important to me that he acknowledge this fact, and so far he seemed to be giving no indication that he considered me talented at all. It really stung, if I was being honest with myself. It wasn’t a shocking realization, but it hurt nonetheless.

  “So, how are you going to manage all of this? With your schedule, I mean? We barely see one another as it these days.”

  “I haven’t figured everything out yet. I know it will be busy, but I’m sure we—I can make it work. I’m not even saying that it’s going to happen with Kaz—with the band, but I just wanted you to know that it’s something that’s important to me.”

  Now was the point at which my awesome boyfriend should say something super supportive to me.

  “Okay, well, we’ll see, I guess. I mean, I’d hope that it’s not going to affect you coming to my shows—the tour that we have scheduled.” He was looking at me carefully. “Nicole, I really need for you to be there with me.”

  What about what I need? What about how you barely pay any attention to me when I’m there anyway?

  “I know. I’ll want to be there too.” I said the words quietly.

  Maybe you’ll be coming to my shows one day.

  We both stood up at the same time and I reached for his hands to put them around my waist. We’d had almost zero physical contact recently and I missed having that closeness with him.

  Joe kissed me on the forehead and I felt his hands on my rear.

  “So, now you’re gonna have to really work on losing this, babe.”

  Instantly, my eyes filled with tears as I pulled away from him.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Oh, don’t cry. Come on. It’s not like you don’t know it’s true. If you’re really wanting to perform, then you’re gonna have to start thinking about your image and how you’re gonna be perceived on stage. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “I think that’s a really lousy thing to say. Yeah, I wanna lose some weight—you know I do—but it has nothing to do with my ability to perform. I don’t think anyone in the bar last night was bothered by my size.” The look on Joe’s face was making me angrier. “God, Joe. You act like I’m a freak. I’m really not bigger than a lot of real woman, ya know.”

  “Well, you’re a lot bigger than when I met you. That’s what I know. And you’re definitely a lot bigger than any of the female musicians I know.”

  Now I just really wanted him to leave.

  “Look, I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I’m just thinking that if anything good comes out of this new thing you wanna try, then maybe it will be the fact that it’s another motivation for you to lose the weight. God knows that making me happy hasn’t been a good enough reason for you to want to do it.

  No, Joe. I don’t think that making you happy is going to have anything to do with my losing weight. I should hope not, anyway.

  I wiped the tears away with my hand and walked toward the door.

  “I think you should go. I really thought that you’d have something supportive to say about all this. I’d hoped that you would, but really, Joe—I don’t need you cutting me down right now—about my weight or anything.”

  I’ve done that enough to myself as it is.

  “Oh, stop, Nicole. I’m not cutting you down. I’m just being realistic.”

  He walked toward the door and leaned over to give me a quick kiss on the cheek. “You know I love you.”

  I really want to believe it.

  “Yeah, well, you have a funny way of showing it.”

  He looked at me for a moment before placing his hands on either side of my face, a gesture that I’d always loved—back in the days when he was much more romantic.

  “I do—love you. Say you love me too.”

  He was grinning—trying to be playful with me. And it was almost working. If we could just rewind the last ten minutes of conversation, I’d probably be trying to lure him upstairs right now. But what was said, was said—and I still wanted him gone so that I could go curl up in a ball and cry.

  “Say it.” He laughed and I made an attempt at a smile—I didn’t want him to leave with things on such a bad note.

  “I love you.”

  We kissed once on the lips and then I watched him walk across the street to his truck, trying to catch my breath as the tears fell fast and furious.

  Chapter 13

  I glanced at the time on the microwave as I dumped the remaining beer fro
m my bottle into the sink. It was ten forty-five—too late to call most people, but I knew that Zara was a bit of a night owl these days. I’d send her a text first, asking her if she was awake—if she could talk.

  And if she’s not available, I’m going to order a big fat pizza.

  Within seconds, I received a text back.

  Yes, I’m up and I want to hear about your night. Exciting! Call me!

  Her words reminded me of all the good things that I had to tell her—along with the nightmare with Joe that had just occurred. It was good for me to remember that the night had actually been pretty amazing. I shouldn’t let Joe totally destroy everything good that was happening to me right now. Zara would be sure to point that out to me.

  I texted her back as I checked to be certain that I didn’t have one single bottle of wine anywhere in my apartment. No such luck. No alcohol tonight. And no pizza. I smiled despite my jumbled feelings.

  K, one sec.

  I settled back on my sofa with a big glass of water and pulled Zara’s number up on my phone.

  “So, tell me everything. How was it? How’d you do? Did you love it?”

  I laughed. “Hi to you too.”

  “Sorry, I’ve been dying to hear how everything went. So spill it.”

  I let myself remember the conversation with Joe as I recounted to Zara everything about how I’d felt singing with the band in the warehouse and the ballads that Kaz had written that somehow seemed perfectly suited for my voice.

  “Wow, that sounds really great. So can I assume that you’re in? As in joining the band officially?”

  “No. No, I wouldn’t say that.”

  The conversation with Joe was now back in the forefront of my thoughts.

  “Okay. So, how did you leave things with Kaz?”

  “Oh, he invited me to come to rehearsals all week. They meet in the evenings. Most nights I can make it, if not running a little late coming straight from an afternoon work shift, but it’s definitely doable.”

  “I almost can’t believe how perfect this is.”

  “What’s that?”

  Zara’s almost constant positivity was really something to be marveled at. I know it was why so many people were drawn to her and why her coaching business had really started to take off. She was excellent at helping others to see the good in nearly every situation. I knew that I needed to tell her about the rest of my evening. I wanted to hear her take on everything, and I was counting on her to help me put it all into perspective.