For the first time since I agreed to this arrangement, my confidence in my ability to make Devon mine was shaken. Maybe it just wasn’t possible.
Chapter 25.Devon
This would not work. I couldn’t live with other people. I wasn’t that type. But Pete had me over a barrel. If I’d actually managed to write some halfway decent songs, then I’d have bargaining power. Hell, I wouldn’t even need a fake girlfriend. Why did I need I need a fake girlfriend anyway?
I took another gulp of my drink. I’d called into a neighbourhood bar on the way home, not wanting to face having my fake girlfriend waiting at home for me. The court case was done and dusted now, so why I did I need a live-in girlfriend?
Didn’t fans love the bad boy image? I’d been a man-whore for years and they’d thought that was great. Live fast, die young. That’s what they wanted. I blamed Tex. He’d started it all with his happily in love shit. Now he’d done it, everyone expected me to do it too. Well, actually, Brownie had married first but no one cares that much about the drummer.
I was pretty sure I had a few good decades of partying and fooling around left in me. Why should I quit that, just because other people wanted it?
The demon sitting on my shoulder whispered a horrible thought into my head though. “What if you did settle down?”
I thought about it for a moment, going home to someone like Daisy. Having a laugh, getting dinner together. Waking up to her smile. Being in her embrace. All that kind of thing.
Those visions turned to dust though. Replaced with other thoughts. She’d be dragged into my rock world, corrupted. Sure, she wasn’t Julie but the temptations would be there. God, what if she turned to drugs too? She seemed all sunshine and light but I’d seen that before too. I’d seen people change overnight.
I couldn’t watch her all the time and there were guys like that creeper at the awards night. All they wanted was the money. My money. They had no scruples.
I never wanted to go home to someone with the life drained out of them. I never wanted to grab them in my arms, praying that it was all going to be okay. They’d be breathing in a moment. It was an overdose but it wasn’t the end. It could be fixed.
Until it couldn’t.
I’d not settle down. I’d never suffer like that again.
“It’s not right,” I said out loud, slamming my glass down on the bar.
“Huh?” The barman turned to me.
“Nothing. Just a refill.”
The bar was empty. It was too early for many drinkers and it wasn’t the kind of place people popped into for drinks after work. It was a shoddy, rundown kind of place. Dark and gloomy. Suited my mood perfectly.
The barman played Leonard Cohen. That suited my mood too. I wonder if he’d ever struggled to write a decent song. I doubted it.
That song we’d done at rehearsal, I felt wrong about it. Maybe I needed that. It was catchy though, I had to admit that. I’d been humming it since leaving the studio. On its own though, it wouldn’t hold up with the rest. It was a change in mood, a change in theme. It stuck out like a sore thumb.
Maybe Julie was sitting there in the afterlife, laughing her head off, having decided she’d not be my muse any more. Bitch. She was a bitch. Had been. I had to admit that.
She’d caused me more pain than any person should. Then she’d died and left me with the burden of guilt. Tex had blamed me for her death. Hell, I even blamed myself but maybe, just maybe, it’d not been my fault. I’d told Tex once that Julie was doomed. He’d punched me for that, and I’d probably deserved it. But it was the honest truth.
Daisy, not doomed. Daisy, full of joy. Daisy, smelt good and radiated warmth. Daisy, not dead.
It wasn’t a choice between Julie and Daisy. Why did I even think that? One was dead, the other my girlfriend in name only.
The barman refilled my glass.
“You look like a man with a world of troubles,” he said.
“That’s the truth.”
I put my money on the bar.
“Hey, aren’t you that guy?”
“Yep, I sure am.” I gave him a half-smile. I was always “that guy”. I bet Tex never got called “that guy”. I bet people knew his name.
“What’s the problem then? I’ve seen you with that chick, the blonde one. The one you just started dating. She’s a hottie. If she were my girlfriend, I’d be at home with her, not sitting in a dive bar, drinking my heart out.”
That’s the kind of advice I didn’t need.
What was it about her? She wasn’t anything flashy, that’s for sure, but a surge of lust filled me just thinking about her.
I had an image of her in her kitchen, dressed in a simple dress and apron. I wasn’t even sure why she wore an apron. She sure wasn’t trying to look sexy but I couldn’t help thinking about how it’d be to bend her over that bench, hike that dress up over her hips and fuck her hard and slow.
I wondered what kind of noises she’d make, all wild with desire but restraining herself. Her fingers would curl around the bench edge, white-knuckled, while she pressed back against me. If I tried, would she resist? She wanted me. That much was obvious. When I asked her if she’d fuck me, she salivated. She’d thought about that many times before.
She’d be wearing white panties, soaked with her wetness. Would I slip them down or just push them aside before I entered her?
God, my cock grew hard at the thought. It pressed hard against the seam of my jeans. I had to think about something else.
“You don’t think she’s kind of chunky?”
“Hell, no. She rocks those curves. Listen, I don’t want to sound creepy or anything but there comes a time in life when you want to settle down. You need someone in your life. You’re not getting any younger, you know.”
Why was everyone determined to tell me how old I was getting? It didn’t help matters one bit. And why did they assume I needed to settle down? Maybe the problem was that I was way too settled. Settled didn’t make for good songs.
“No one wants a song about happiness and rainbows. They want the angst and the agony. They want my heart sprawled out and my soul bleeding. I have to give them that but I’m empty. There’s nothing left in the tank.”
“Dude, has anyone ever told you to lighten up a bit? There are plenty of good rock songs about happy times. It doesn’t have to be all blackness.”
I pounded my glass down again. Enough of this shit. I wasn’t sitting in this bar for life or career advice. I just wanted to get quietly wasted.
“Listen, one of us here is a famous rock star and one of us isn’t. Maybe you should think about that before handing out advice.”
The barman folded his arms.
“Well, one of us is being paid to be here and one is brooding over a glass of cheap whiskey. Maybe you should think about that.”
I stood up to leave. This guy was getting on my nerves. He was way too mouthy.
“I’m only drinking cheap whiskey because you don’t stock the good stuff,” I said as I left.
Chapter 26.Daisy
I needed to talk to someone, so I called Meadow.
“I thought you’d forgotten about me, with your rock star girlfriend life. Got all these fancy new friends now.”
“God, no. It’s not like that at all. I’ve got no friends. Things are not as great as they seem.”
I hated myself for the way I’d treated Meadow but I’d not been able to explain things to her. I could talk about this though.
“I’m just knocking off work,” she said. “I’ll meet you, if you like. You don’t sound good.”
I gave her the address and she turned up as fast as she could.
When she got here though, I wasn’t sure where to start. She wandered around, fascinated by the apartment.
“You live with a rock star. Not just any rock star but your dream rock star. Wow, Daisy, you’ve really made it. You’ve dreamed of this since you were 13 years old. You should be grinning like a crazy thing, not all slumped over and down
in the dumps.”
“It’s not all golden, you know.”
“Hey, these are the new cushions you bought. I know that because I follow your Instagram.”
That was meant as a dig.
I opened a bottle of wine. I hoped that was okay and it wasn’t some super expensive wine that I’d have to pay for. But this was my home too now, surely.
I had no idea where to even start with things, so I told her about the social media stuff.
“Have you seen how many followers I have now?”
“On what? Instagram? Twitter?”
“On everything. It’s crazy. I’ve given up answering every message now. I just can’t keep up with it all. It’s a lot of work and now people are saying I’m stuck up. But it’s not that at all. Still, it’s pretty awesome. I never imagined so many people would be interested in me.”
She kind of grimaced.
“Don’t get too carried away with things. People can be mighty fickle. And it’s not you they’re interested in. It’s Devon.” She picked up her glass and took a sip. “Wow, this is some nice wine.”
I thought she’d be happier about me being a social media star. I’d never had attention like that in my life. I’d even had some fashion company contact me, asking if they could sponsor me. Like, offered me money and free clothes just for wearing their stuff in selfies. It seemed weird but people actually made money doing that kind of thing.
As we drank, I told her about the photo I’d found.
“You knew he had someone in his past though. All those songs. All that misery.”
I sighed. “Yeah, I knew in a kind of vague, undefined way. I mean the man is definitely no saint. It’s just, after seeing the photo, she’s become more real. Not just real but she’s Tex’s sister. Was his sister. It’s not just some random woman we’re talking about here. She’s like family to him, a constant in his life. It seems so much harder to compete with.”
Meadow rubbed my arm. “Well, you have one real advantage. You’re alive. That means a whole heap in this world.”
“You think that’s an advantage? How do I compete with a memory? She’s probably taken on all kinds of epic proportions in his mind. She’s perfect and I’m only too real.”
“Well, if he doesn’t love you for the real person you are, he doesn’t deserve you. Trust me, I know you have this image of him being your ideal man but if he cares more about his ex than you, ditch him. It’s not like you need this guy. He’s just a man after all.”
Meadow talked sense but there was this whole other level that I couldn’t begin to explain. Like having a contract to be his girlfriend and that he’d not ever decided to date me in the first place. All that kind of messy stuff.
“I don’t know if I can walk away,” I said. That’s as much as I could say.
“You can always walk away,” Meadow replied. “It’s not like you are tied to him for life. It’s always an option.”
Chapter 27.Devon
I stumbled along the street. The rain had cleared but the road was wet enough to reflect the glowing neon of the signs around me. This city wasn’t very big but it had stuff going on. I should drink to that, maybe.
Oops, nearly fell over.
The whole damn world confused me. I’d gone to a second bar but I didn’t enjoy drinking like I once had. There was a hollowness in my insides. Something missing. Fun! That’s what was missing. Maybe, if I drank more, the fun would come back.
But the whiskey sat heavy on me. My eyelids did too. Sleep was the best thing for it. Sleep, then maybe, just maybe, I’d be able to fix this mess. The world was not the happy, shiny place it used to be. Maybe it never had been. Maybe that shiny place was just an illusion and things had been as shit back then as they were now. It’d all seemed a helluva lot easy.
Hey, my building.
I went in, trying to walk straight in front of the concierge. Why the hell did I give a fuck about that guy anyway? It was because of that cocksucking manager, Pete. He kept at me about my image and all that shit. I’d never thought about my image once before he came along. I just thought about fun.
Something nagged at my mind. Something I should remember.
I got up to the apartment and finally got my key in the lock. Damn thing kept moving, making it hard for me. I needed to be in bed.
Not that I was too old for this. Not a bit of it. I was still young, still pretty. On top of my game. Still had chicks begging me for it too. Like that one at the second bar. She’d been salivating, clinging to me like crazy. When her hand had slid down to my cock though, I’d brushed it away. She was hot and she was gagging for it but I just had no interest.
I tried to flick on the light switch but missed. No matter, I just had to get to bed. I knew my way. I couldn’t fool around with a stupid light switch. A straight line through the living room to my bedroom, then sweet sleep.
Halfway across the room, I stumbled. My feet just didn’t work. I couldn’t right myself so hurled toward the sofa instead.
Ouch! The sofa was not where it should be. I smashed into something big and solid. My thigh stung. Then I crashed into a heap onto the floor.
Next minute, the lights came on. Who turned on the lights?
“Are you okay?”
I rubbed my eyes. That’s what I’d been forgetting. My fake girlfriend had moved into my apartment. And the sofa was on the other side of the room?
“What the fuck? What the actual fuck?”
She ran to me, trying to help me up. I pushed her away.
“Did you do this?”
“What?”
“Booby trap the room?”
I tried to get up myself but crumpled back down to the ground. She put her arm around me again but I flinched away.
“I can do this myself. You’re just trying to injure me.”
She stood up and stared at me.
“I’m not trying anything. I just moved the furniture around a bit.”
Pulling myself into a sitting position, I checked my hands.
“If I’ve broken anything, I’ll not get the album out. No album for you. No tours. You won’t be so popular with my fans then. Maybe I should tell the press. You’re trying to sabotage me?”
She put her hands on her hips. “I’m not doing anything of the kind. I moved the furniture, which wouldn’t have been a problem if you hadn’t been out getting shitfaced. Maybe you’re the one trying to sabotage the album. Maybe you’re scared.”
Hell, she was getting feisty. I’d been through this so many times before. I’d get annoyed, she’d bite back. We’d have words, then shout and it’d all end up with angry sex against the wall. Angry sex against the wall seemed like the best possible outcome for this situation. Yep, I’d always pick the angry sex option over any other.
“Just leave me alone. Who do you think you are? You’ve got no right, moving things around. You want to do something around here, you ask my permission. I’m the boss and you obey me.”
That should trigger things. But no. Instead of yelling back, she walked into her room. That was not meant to happen. I got to my knees then made it onto my feet. I’d follow her to her room. Then we’d fight and I’d get sex. That made sense. That made perfect sense. That’s how it’d worked with Julie. Fighting and screaming had been like foreplay for her.
When I got to the bedroom door though, the sound of crying stopped me. God, she was a crier. Anger I could deal with. I knew how to duck when women threw things at me. I could work the pace of a fight, knowing when to heat it up and when to ease off. But crying, I had no idea. Not a single one. Women didn’t cry around me, unless it was from the sheer pleasure I gave them.
It wasn’t even like I’d been really nasty or anything. I’d not called her names or insulted her. I’d just yelled a little.
Now I felt bad.
I nudged the door open.
“Go away,” she said.
“You’re crying again. You cry a lot.”
She wiped her eyes with the back of
her hand. “Am not. Well, okay. I’ve had a hard day.”
“Sorry, I was a bit of a prick,” I replied. I tried to look repentant. I guessed angry sex was not going to happen. Anyway, I felt totally exhausted.
“Yeah, you keep apologising for that but you keep doing it.”
“At least I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t cut it unless you make some effort to change. Otherwise you are just sorry you got called out on it.”
She sat up in bed, wearing an oversized t-shirt. Her hair was in braids that stuck out at strange angles from her head. Her eyes were red and a bit puffy. But hell, she was an attractive woman. The softness of her drew me in. I’d never been around a woman who was soft and yielding before. Not Julie, not a single one of those groupies. Hell, not even my mother. She’d been as hard as old boots.
“Well, it was a bit of a shock, falling down like that onto the hard floor.”
“Sorry. I didn’t realise you’d come home drunk.”
“I’m not that drunk.”
“You reek of booze.”
I hung my head, not sure what to say.
“Can I get into bed with you? No funny business. Just for a minute.” At that moment, there was nothing I wanted more. My bed would be cold and lonely. Her bed looked warm and soft.
She screwed up her face but, before she could say anything, I’d taken off my boots and crawled in beside her. I snuggled into her side and she put her arm around me, stroking my hair.
“What am I going to do, Daisy?”
She smelt like strawberries and something nostalgic that I couldn’t really place. So soft and yielding.
“About what?”
I struggled to answer. There was something I needed an answer to but I couldn’t remember what. All I wanted was to fall asleep with her beside me. She never had these ghosts to deal with. She didn’t know.
“Haven’t you ever been afraid to fall asleep because you hate what your dreams bring?”
Bad for You (Fallen Star Book 4) Page 12