After a while, the lines began to blur between when we were ourselves and when we were pretending. The whole thing totally snuck up on me. One minute, we were just posing for the press together, the next minute she’s moving into my flat and cooking me dinner. The whole thing was so bizarre, so unsettling.
Mary started to think that we were an actual couple. She started talking about marriage, and babies, and the whole thing. I felt like I was trapped in a speeding bus headed toward a cliff, with no driver in sight. She was spinning out of control, and the publicity for the band was getting completely overwhelming, and I was drinking and getting as high all the time just to try to forget about it all...
I knew that I had to get out, but I had no idea what to do about Mary. She was unreachable in this little fantasy world of hers. You know how you’re not supposed to wake someone up who’s sleepwalking? That how things got with her. I was afraid that if I shattered her fantasy, then she’d lose it completely. Even more so than she already had.
“So what did you do?” I asked.
“I choreographed a breakup,” he said, smiling sadly, “I started to speak up about how unhappy I was with the direction of the band, and I let those conflicts become our conflicts. She took all of my criticism personally, and started to hate me for it. Eventually, she quit the band of her own volition. She just walked away from everything we had all built together. I was expecting the label to be angry, but as soon as she left, people started to like us more. So they just left her by the side of the road, all because I was uncomfortable with the way things had gone. She’s done nothing but blow through her savings since, and it’s all my fault.
When she showed up at the hotel, I just...panicked. I thought she was going to chew me out, or tell me how I’d ruined her life. But when she started getting all clingy...I don’t know. I just decided to let her. I didn’t see any other way. I’ve ruined this woman’s life, Alex. I couldn’t very well just turn her away. She’s my responsibility, I suppose. Or at least that’s the way it feels.
“But don’t you see,” I whispered, letting my hands fall onto Jackson’s shoulders, “She’s not your responsibility, Jackson. It would have been far worse for you to have led her on, thinking you cared about her. You...don’t care about her, do you? Romantically, I mean?”
“No,” Jackson said, “No, I don’t.”
“You carry the weight of these lives on your shoulders,” I said, trailing fingers down his strong jaw line. He pressed his body lightly against mine, and I felt my head spin dizzily. “Your mother...Mary...all these people that you think you’ve wronged. But Jackson, none of it is your fault. You can’t try to support the entire world on your back. You’re not a god, despite what some of your fans might say. You’re a man. You’re a...wonderful man.”
“Alex,” Jackson breathed, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, “That’s all I want to be. That’s how I feel when we’re together. Like I’m just a man, put here to be with a woman. One woman, in particular.”
He pulled me closer to him, and I gasped as I felt the hard bulge in the front of his jeans. I looked up into his eyes, knowing that I would lose myself there. That eager, hot wetness was swelling between my legs, the very center of me aching to feel him. For one fleeting moment I entertained the possibility of running away, of pushing him aside and returning to my seat. I could have ended it then, refused to get caught up in this person’s web of lies and betrayal. I could resist his body, learn to be satisfied with someone else...
Oh, who are you kidding, I thought to myself, and kissed Jackson hard on the mouth. He met my lips with gusto, pulling me so hard against him that for a second it was hard to breathe—or perhaps that was just the excitement. His lips moved down to my throat, my neck, covering every inch of my skin with his tantalizing attention. I buried my fingers in his dark curls and smiled as his scruff brushed roughly against my collarbones. I realized, with a pulse of anticipation, that I was backed up against the bed. If I just happened to fall backwards...
But Jackson was way ahead of me. He lay me down on the bed before him, spreading me out limb by limb. It was so hard not to cry out as he pressed down on top of me, that insistent rod of flesh pounding against me. He was kissing my chest now, holding down my shoulders so that I couldn’t move away from him—not like I’d ever want to. He tugged down the neckline of my little black dress, freeing my breasts from their confines. I bit my lip as he took first one nipple and then he next into his mouth, sucking and biting and flicking with that expert tongue of his. I was sopping for him, ready to feel him slip inside of me again. But Jackson had other plans of his own.
With a wicked smile, he pulled away from me and stepped onto the floor, crouching there. He grabbed hold of my hips and yanked me toward the edge of the bed. In an instant, he’d removed my soaked-through panties and tossed them aside. I couldn’t help but spread my knees for him, opening myself for him to see. He groaned as he took it the sight of me, ready and wet and throbbing for him. I waited for him to loosen his belt, to climb back on top of me. But instead, he placed his hands on my tender inner thighs and pushed my legs open even further. Almost reverently, he brought his mouth to meet me.
The cabin twirled around my head as I felt his lips close around my sensitive flesh, flicking and twirling it with his warm, wet tongue. I grabbed handfuls of the bed’s comforter, twisting the fabric in my shaking fingers. Jackson flattened his tongue against my folds, running it from the bottom of my slit to the very top. Each lick, each pass went a little deeper, probed a little farther, until I was writhing about with utter abandon. I’d never once been so taken care of, this way, I didn’t know what to do with it. I could feel the hot pressure of orgasm welling up inside of me, I knew that I couldn’t last much longer.
I felt two of Jackson’s strong, thick fingers slide into the silky wetness of my pussy. And just as he flexed those fingers inside of me, he gave that hard, aching nub a master flick and sent me straight over the edge. I came into his waiting, beautiful hands, arching my back against the bed. It took every ounce of willpower in my body not to scream out in utter bliss, but somehow I managed.
As the wild pangs of pleasure began to pass through me, the world started to come back into focus. Jackson was sitting beside me on the edge of the bed, smiling like a school boy. I was sprawled out on the mussed-up comforter, breathing like I’d just run a mile. I didn’t know whether to be shocked, elated, or full of dread at what this would mean down the line. I couldn't manage to be anything more than a puddle, at the moment.
“Well,” I panted, “I think that’s enough interview material for me to work with for the time being.”
“Good,” Jackson said, “I’m glad it was to your satisfaction.
I picked myself up off the bed and straightened myself up, hoping that my makeup hadn’t gotten too smudged during our encounter. I gathered my notebook and realized that it was blank.
“Hold on,” I said, “We can’t go out there without having actually done any kind of interview.”
“Ah. You’re right,” Jackson said from his perch on the bed. “Very well. Ask me some questions then, Lois.”
“Let’s see...” I began, ignoring the Lois jab, “When did you first start playing music?”
“I’ve always played music,” he answered simply.
“But when did you know that you wanted a career in music?” I pressed.
“I don’t think that’s even been a conscious thought for me,” he said, “This is just the way that it happened, I guess.”
“Pearls of wisdom,” I said, rolling my eyes. “That’s enough for now. Let’s get back out there before the press scrapes up another story about us.”
“Good idea,” Jackson said, “But Alex...Do you feel better now? About having Mary around for just a bit? It means nothing to me, but I feel like this is all she has. I don’t want to shatter her, and she’s basically harmless. What do you say? Do you mind playing along for just a bit?”
I did mind.
Quite a bit. But how could I say that to Jackson? The situation with Mary seemed far more complicated than I could even comprehend. I couldn’t stand the girl, to be sure, and she seemed like she had something terrible up her sleeve...but it wasn’t my call.
“Do whatever you think is right,” I said, “I’ll support you.”
“Thank you, Alex,” Jackson said, giving me a kiss on the cheek. “You really are the raddest.”
“I really am,” I smiled back.
We scurried out of the back room and hurried toward our seats, trying to look casual. The group pretended not to notice as we reentered—everyone besides Mary, that is.
“That was quite a lengthy interview,” she said coldly, looking back and forth between me and Jackson.
“Well,” I said, “An entire life is a pretty big thing to cover. We had to start at the womb, after all. Apparently that’s when Jackson’s musical genius kicked in.”
“Sounds about right to me,” Mary cooed, wrapping her arms around Jackson’s as he took his seat. “My baby is the best of the best.”
I have to agree with you there, I thought, sitting down heavily as we sped ever closer to Dublin. I spent the rest of the flight in a haze of blissful release, hoping that no one could read the truth on my face. This whole being-a-professional thing was really off to a great start. It hadn’t even been a day, and I’d already succumbed to Jackson’s charms. Again. I wondered if there would ever come a point where I’d be able to say “no” to him. I supposed that if he truly lied to me, betrayed me, I would have to say goodbye. If I knew that he didn’t actually care about me, I would walk away in a heartbeat. As I watched Mary play with his hair through the gap in the airplane seats, I hoped that such a moment wouldn’t be heading my way anytime soon.
Chapter Eleven
We finally landed in Dublin, after a trip that seemed much longer than it actually was. Everyone rose to gather their things and tumbled out of the jet like a litter of excited puppies. Mary kept her arm linked firmly with Jackson’s as we disembarked, and I tried to remind myself that he was just doing her a favor, that it was all just an act. With even with that knowledge, the sight of Jackson with another woman on his arm was driving me up the wall. And I wasn’t even the kind of woman who wanted to be on anyone’s arm! I knew how ridiculous it was to feel protective over a rock star. He probably had millions of fans, many of them women, who fancied Jackson their exclusive property. If this wasn’t going to happen between us, I needed to get over the jealousy thing that was plaguing my mind.
But what I realized, as I climbed into the back of a cab with Sadie, Eddie, and a spare amp, was that it wasn’t the rock star that I was feeling protective about—it was the man. It didn’t bother me that women around the world wanted Jax Brent, because the Jax Brent they knew was just a construct. The real Jackson, the one I’d met in that empty, quiet hotel room, was someone I wanted all to myself. As long as I could keep that authentic version as my own, I could handle the rest of it easily.
The second hotel awaited us, just as grand as the first, but the party spirit was set aside as the band got ready for their first show in Ireland. Rather than playing arenas here, the guys had decided to line up a series of smaller venues, to give their fans a more intimate experience. Forums and blogs had been raving about this move since they announced it—everyone wanted to get close to the guys of Carnal Knowledge, especially Mr. Jackson Brent. And I couldn’t say I blamed them. After all, I’d wanted nothing more than an intimate evening with him, as well.
When everyone was styled and set, the whole lot of us set out into the night. The air was heavy, and full of the sounds of bustling Dublin. I could just make out the streets as we sped by toward the venue, but I looked forward to exploring the country while we were there. I let myself picture me and Jackson, walking along some rocky shoreline, hanging onto each other and discussing our future plans as we looked out across the crisp, rippling sea...
“Are you OK?” Sadie asked, interrupting my fantasy.
“What? Oh, yeah! I’m great,” I said, with a big, honest smile.
Sadie traded glances with Britt and Annabelle, who were squeezed against the door. “I thought that you might be a little...upset.”
“Why?” I asked, “Everything’s perfectly—”
“Why?!” Britt exclaimed, “Because the love of Jackson’s life just wandered back into the picture and ripped him out from under you! Or on top of you. I don’t know what you guys prefer.”
“Trust me,” I said, cutting her off at the pass, “I’m not worried about Mary.”
“Why not?” Annabelle asked, “She’s plenty to worry about.”
“Let’s just say that I have a feeling everything will be just fine,” I said, smiling.
Annabelle gave me a dark look. “I have to say, Alex, I don’t share that feeling. And I’m very good about feelings, you know. I wouldn’t get your hopes up, just yet.”
“Yeah, OK,” I said, waving away her nay saying.
“At least she’s admitted she’s in love with him, finally,” Sadie put in. “Admitting the problem is the first step to overcoming it.”
“I don’t have a problem” I said, exasperated. “I have a...crush. That’s all. Just a crush.”
“Bullshit, just a crush,” Sadie said. “I know love when I see it, Lois. And you are in deep.”
I turned away from them, feigning indifference. Was I really that obvious? If they could see that I was in love with Jackson, and by then I was fully ready to admit to myself that it was love, could other people see it too? Could the other band mates see it? Could the media see it? Could Mary see it? A chill ran through me as I considered what she might do if she felt like her place beside Jackson was being threatened. She seemed capable of anything.
Those blogs and tabloid images all rushed back to me. I’d been targeted by the press just for standing next to Jackson. What if we actually did become a couple? Would I be tracked down by reporters for the rest of my life? Picked apart by style blogs and hated by Jackson’s fans? Would my family and friends get drawn into it as well? The thought of my parents getting harassed by paparazzi did not sit well with me. It was an enormous thing I was planning to take on, being the right hand girl of a rock star. But I knew that Jackson was worth it.
We arrived at the venue and hurried in through the back door, past the ever-present legion of screaming fans. The first concert space was an old church that had been turned into a music hall. After the riotous chaos of the arena in London, this place seemed downright quaint. Sadie took me by the hand and led me through the dark backstage area. How she managed to always know where she was going, I couldn’t guess. She and the other girls were simply built for this kind of life. I sort of envied them for it.
The four of us made our way into the wings, standing just off stage as we had before the last concert. I was pleased beyond measure that the girls had accepted me. Even in my preppy getup and my hair slicked straight, they seemed to want me around. I wondered if I could actually adopt their way of life, traveling around with the band, blowing in the wind like they did. Could I pull myself out of New York by the roots and follow Jackson wherever he went around the world?
It was a tempting thought, to live without any responsibilities. But I knew in my heart that I’d grow to resent him if I did that. I had a career of my own to think of, and a family, and a future. And though I wanted more than anything for Jackson to be a part of that future, there would have to be some kind of compromise between us. Neither could give up an entire world for the other. But how could we make our two separate lives fit into one?
I pushed my worries out of my mind as the audience started to file into the space. There were probably two hundred open seats in the hall, and I was rather amazed when people started to sit down. This was certainly nothing like the first concert I had seen.
“They’re doing an unplugged session,” Sadie explained to me, “All acoustic covers and stuff, none of the heavier bits.”
> “Got it,” I said, smiling as the crowd began to buzz with anticipation.
“You’d better get a handle on your music vocabulary,” said a sweet voice behind me, “You don’t want to sound like a total fucking moron in that story of yours, do you?”
I turned to find Mary standing in the shadows behind me, her arms crossed tightly against her small chest. The fact that she’d managed to release Jackson’s arm from her vice-like grip was astonishing.
“So glad you could join us over here, Mary,” I said, trying to kill her with kindness, “We wouldn’t want to miss out on your expert commentary.”
Her hand shot out and gripped my arm tightly. The other girls made to restrain her, but I waved them away. I could handle this venomous toothpick on my own. Mary yanked me out of earshot and brought my face very close to hers.
“I told you to stay away from him,” she growled.
“I know,” I said, wincing as her nails bit into my skin, “I am.”
“You’re a filthy liar,” she spat.
“Mary, nothing—”
“I could smell you on him,” she said, her voice deathly low, “I could smell you all over his mouth after your little interview, you dirty slut. Do you treat all your subjects with such affection? No wonder you’re landing the big stories now, if you sleep your way to the impressive bylines.”
“That’s enough,” I said, “I’ve had just about enough of you. I don’t know what imaginary contest you see us in, but we’re not competing for anything, OK? Just get off my fucking back and quit acting like a paranoid lunatic! Enough is enough, Mary.”
“I will be the one to say when enough is enough, Alexa,” she sneered, “And trust me. I haven’t even gotten started yet.” She released my arm and slunk back to the other side of the stage. I watched her disappear into the blackness, rubbing the spot on my arm where her nails had left red little half moons. I didn’t know what she had in mind, but I knew I wasn’t going to like it.
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