Cover Me: A Rock Star Romance

by Carrie Elliott

  Kurt turned his eyes away from me and let out a derisive laugh. “Back to where you started, huh? What a colossal mistake.”

  I stood and held out my hand to shake his. “I don’t think so, but we’ll have to see.”

  He didn’t bother to stand and gave me a half-hearted handshake that was pretty much a fuck you. “Good luck, Bast,” he said and they held the same meaning as every other time those words were spoken in the past two days: Goodbye and kiss my ass.

  Bess

  I didn’t want to get out of bed to find my phone, but it kept ringing and my voicemail kept chiming and whoever it was wouldn’t let up.

  It had to be the office. I never let a workday pass without calling in if I wasn’t there at eight AM. A glance at the clock told me it was almost eleven. I didn’t sleep last night and my head felt stuffy. My eyes were gritty and puffy from too much crying.

  Derek’s t-shirt was soft and I had my knees tucked up inside it. I couldn’t bring myself to change when I got home. The driver didn’t say a word when I got in the backseat in a pair of men’s underwear, barefoot, cradling my clothes and shoes in my arms.

  My phone stopped ringing and a minute later, the voicemail alert chimed again.

  Part of me hoped it was Derek calling, having somehow come to realize what he’d done to me and vowing to make it right. I knew that was only the way it worked in fairy tales and romantic comedies, not in real life.

  It had been nine years since the last time I didn’t want to get out of bed. I knew I was being ridiculous, but at the same time, the thought of tossing back the covers and putting my feet on the floor made me huddle down even deeper under them.

  I worked my ass off. I was allowed one day for self-pity. One day to cry and ache and not berate myself for ending up in exactly where I’d dreamed of being for years—in those forbidden arms, kissing those forbidden lips.

  If I wasn’t so stubborn, I’d be happy right now and not alone in bed. But happiness with Derek would be fleeting. If he didn’t know what he’d done, he hadn’t changed enough for me to willingly put my heart out there and trust him with it.

  If only he hadn’t been so thoughtless and selfish. If only he would’ve considered me and my feelings for one second. But he hadn’t and the past was the past—written in the books.

  A few stray tears slid from my eyes and I drifted back to sleep.

  A pounding on my door startled me awake. I bolted upright and glanced at the clock. 11:30. Without thinking, I got out of bed and hurried to the door. Through the peep hole, Karen, my assistant, stood gazing absently back at me. Not that she could see me.

  “Hey,” I said, opening the door and letting her inside. “I’m sorry I didn’t call. I’m not feeling well.”

  Her head rose and fell with her eyes, scanning me. “Looks like you’re feeling fine. Whose underwear do you have on? Is he still here?” She stretched her neck trying to look beyond me into my bedroom.

  Humiliation threatened to consume me. “No. It wasn’t like that.”

  Her forehead furrowed. “Under what other circumstances do you acquire a pair of men’s underwear? And a…” she grasped my forearms, crossed in front of me and read my shirt. Her mouth dropped open. “A Generic Obsession t-shirt. Very coincidental considering you were last seen leaving work with Derek Bast. Oh my god! You slept with Derek Bast!”

  “I did not sleep—”

  “Are those his underwear?! Can I touch them?!” She reached around and grabbed my ass.

  “Karen! Stop. Please.”

  She gathered her long blond hair in one hand at the nape of her neck and fanned her face with the other. “How was he. He was amazing, right? Bess! Derek Bast!”

  Last night played through my mind. Just thinking about it made my lips tingle and my everything south of my navel clench.

  “Did you know he was making the announcement this morning?” she asked. “Did he tell you over drinks and…whatever happened after?”

  My brain tried to make the jump but failed. “What announcement?”

  “He fired his manager and broke his contract with Joe Schmidt, backed out of Unholy Union with Adrian.”

  My ears buzzed. “He what?” I paced into the kitchen and back. “Oh my God, it’s because of my review.”

  “So, you didn’t know? That’s why I’ve been calling you. He announced it on-air at ZBUZ-101. You know how he’s tight with the DJ there, Keith Sky. Sky went on air and said they had a walk-in guest who wanted to share some big news with his fans. Sky didn’t even know what it was. He found out when Bast said he was indie again and would be taking some time away to write and record new songs.”

  “Wow,” I said on an exhale, rubbing my forehead and trying to wrap my mind around this news. What happened in the past fourteen hours to make him come to this decision? He didn’t say a word about it last night. Had he been considering it? Was this what the fear of his career ending was about? “Wow,” I said again.

  “Yeah, wow,” she said. “Why are you just standing there? Aren’t you going to go try for an exclusive with him? Considering you’re standing there in what I’m guessing are his boxer briefs, I think you might have a shot at getting one.”

  An exclusive. With Bast. A tell-all interview revealing why he came to his decision. It would be nothing short of gold for The Scene. Now that he was free of Unholy Union, he wouldn’t care about me not retracting my review, would he? Or would he hold it against me like I held the past against him? He was not happy with me last night.

  “Move!” Karen urged, taking my shoulders and steering me toward my bedroom. “Put your own clothes on and go get that exclusive. Do you know where he lives? How to find him?”

  “Yeah.” I stopped short. “Wait. Joe Schmidt owns the corporate house he’s living in. I’m guessing he’ll be moving out.”

  “Well, hurry the hell up and go see if he’s still there!” She shoved me inside my room and shut the door. “I’ll make some calls and see if he’s been spotted anywhere. God, I hope nobody scoops us on this.”

  For being my assistant, Karen was every bit as invested in The Scene as I was and every bit as responsible for our success. I threw on a jersey dress and stuck my feet into my sandals. When I ran from my bedroom to the bathroom, she was on her phone trying to track Bast down. There were actually people who made a living following celebrities around and giving up their whereabouts to the press for the right price. Today, my guess was that that information would come at a premium.

  “I need you to take me to my car,” I said, darting past her to find my bag draped over a dining chair. “It’s at work.” She let out a snort of laughter and I glared at her. “No more comments about last night.”

  “I’m just not used to you hooking up. You usually wait for the whole relationship thing to happen. It’s funny.” She laughed again. “A good funny. I’m happy for you.”

  “We didn’t hook up,” I said, digging though my bag for lip gloss. My lips were chapped from all the kissing. “I realize, based on the evidence, that it looks like it, but believe me, no sex happened. I was tucked in bed by eleven. Alone.”

  She clucked her tongue. “That’s a shame.”

  “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

  It took me until almost two in the afternoon to make it across L.A. to Bast’s gate. Fortunately, it was open. Unfortunately, his car was gone and a moving truck sat in the driveway. The door from the garage into the house was open. I knocked on it as I entered. “Hello?”

  A woman in a polo shirt with the moving company logo stood in the kitchen packing up boxes of non-perishable food. “Are you from the food pantry?” she asked. “I’m almost done here.”

  “No. I’m a friend of Derek Bast’s. Do you know where I can find him?”

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

  “Where are you sending his belongings?”

  “I’m under a confidentiality contract. I can’t disclose that information.”

  Time to play hardball. “Righ
t. That makes sense. I guess I could camp out in the driveway and follow the truck when you guys leave.”

  She gave me an amused smile. “You’d end up at a storage locker outside the city. I don’t have to tell you Mr. Bast won’t be there.”

  Damn. “Of course not.”

  I pivoted back toward the door, wondering where Derek Bast would now call home.

  Home.

  Of course.

  Five

  Derek

  After five hours of driving, I finally pulled in the driveway. Mom came running out of the house to greet me. “We didn’t know you were coming! Everyone’s been calling me. When did you make such a big decision? You didn’t mention it last time we talked. You brought a suitcase—two suitcases! How long are you staying? You’re welcome as long as you like, of course. We love having you home.”

  I hugged her hoping to stop her chattering. “I might be here a while, Mom. I’m glad that’s okay with you.”

  “It’s more than okay!” She reached up and brushed a hand over my head. “You need a haircut. I’ll call my girl, Sally, and see when she has an open appointment.”

  “I can take care of it, Mom. Thanks, though.” She bustled me up onto the porch and into the house.

  “I’ll call your dad and tell him you’re home. He’s on his way from work. We were so surprised when we heard you left your company to work alone again.”

  Mom had never gotten the industry lingo down. “Sorry I didn’t tell you before making the announcement. It was pretty sudden. I only decided early this morning.”

  “Well, sometimes big changes are needed. Go put your suitcases in your room. Are you hungry? Dad’s picking up dinner. I’ll get you something to drink.” Mom had a lot of energy for a little woman.

  My room was exactly the way it was when I moved out at eighteen. I think Mom changed the sheets when I left and that was about it. Good thing I didn’t like clutter, so there weren’t posters tacked to the walls or junk sitting on top of the dresser and nightstand.

  Three guitars sat leaning against the wall beside my bed. My first acoustic guitar, my first electric guitar and a two dollar guitar that Bess bought me for my fourteenth birthday at a garage sale two blocks over that had no strings and a broken fret-board. We tried to fix it with super glue, but it was beyond repair.

  Last night eased its way from the corner of my mind into a more prominent position. I didn’t want to think about how ready and willing I was to add another layer over our friendship. I’d trust Bess with my life and it killed me that she couldn’t even trust herself to be around me. Couldn’t trust herself to feel something for me, because she couldn’t trust me. It made me sick to my stomach to think about it.

  I drew my curtains open and looked across the narrow side yard to her window—what used to be her window. It could be anything now. Office, sewing room, den. Part of the reason we knew each other so well was because nothing was ever secret. With the windows open at night, I could hear her roll over in her sleep. I never even imagined her as a person I’d want to be more than friends with when we lived so close together. I was such a dumbass back then. She was right. I took her for granted.

  Mom made me chocolate milk of all things. “You love chocolate milk,” she said. “Don’t tell me that just because you’re all grown up and have millions of adoring fans, you don’t like what you like anymore.”

  I took a sip. It was heavenly. “Thanks, Mom.” I gave her a kiss on the cheek. “How’d you know?”

  “I know what my boy needs. Always have.” She eyed me over the breakfast bar. “That reminds me. Do you have someone special in your life?”

  “Come on, Mom.” This was the last thing I needed.

  “Don’t come on Mom, me. You’re almost twenty-eight years old, and don’t take this the wrong way—like I said, we love having you here for as long as you want to stay—but I can’t help but wish you had a wife and home of your own when you need to regroup.”

  “I’ve been a little busy, Mom. Did you want me to pick a groupie at random and make her your daughter-in-law out on the road?”

  “Don’t give me attitude, mister. I can still send you to your room.” She swatted me with a dish towel. “I can’t pretend to know what it’s like living on the road year after year, but I know it’s your dream. If you don’t want a wife and kids, that’s your business. Maybe there isn’t room for both in your life. Tell me to butt out if you want, but I’ll always want whatever it is that makes you happy.”

  I took a sip of my milk, but didn’t think I could swallow it. “I don’t know what I want, Mom. I don’t know what the future holds for me at all anymore.”

  She came around the end of the counter and hugged me, resting her head on top of mine. “Have faith. You’ll end up where you’re supposed to be, when you’re supposed to be there.”

  “I know.” I squeezed her forearm, resting across my chest.

  “Right now you’re supposed to be right here figuring out whatever’s troubling you.”

  The phone rang. My parents still had a land line for whatever reason. I guessed they liked telemarketers. “It’s your dad,” Mom said. Then she listened and nodded along with whatever he was saying. “Okay. Hold on. I’ll tell him.” She put her hand over the receiver. “Dad wants you to put your car in the Halprin’s garage. Their car’s at the airport, so there’s room for yours, and we won’t have the press knocking down our door to find you.”

  “Good idea.” I was usually stealthy when it came to avoiding being noticed, but the past twenty-four hours put me off my game.

  “Their house key’s hanging by the door,” she said, then went back to talking to Dad.

  Mom always picked up their mail when they went on vacation. Well, I used to when I lived here. Bess’s mom would bring me something back from wherever they went. Usually a box of saltwater taffy. I didn’t even like the stuff and Mom would eat it all.

  I rinsed my chocolate milk glass in the sink and found the Halprin’s key on the decorative key rack beside the back door, hanging among all my parent’s keys. It still had the chipped red nail polish on it that Mrs. Halprin painted it with so I could distinguish it from the others. It made me think of purple toenail polish and sexy feet in fishnets.

  Fuck.

  I pocketed the key and went out the back door to move my car into Bess’s family’s garage. The universe worked in strange ways. Last night she and I spent time together for the first time in forever and today I was opening the front door of her parents’ house and stepping inside like I belong here.

  I didn’t belong here, and not just inside The Halprin’s house. Mom was right. I should have a place of my own. Now that I was no longer living in hotel rooms across the globe, I’d find a place. As soon as possible.

  Unlike my parents’ house, The Halprin’s wasn’t anything like I remembered. Everything was different. The furniture, the carpet, the wallpaper. Nothing was the same. I couldn’t help it. I had to know if Bess’s room had been made into an exercise room or something.

  I darted down the hall on the balls of my feet, like I was going to get busted by someone. Ridiculous. The door was closed. I turned the knob and pushed it open and was assaulted by the flower and vanilla scent of Bess that made every muscle in my body tighten. If I closed my eyes, it was last night again and she was on my lap, her soft breasts pressed against my chest, her eager tongue teasing mine.

  I walked into a time warp. The Barbie house that had sat in the corner was gone, probably to her nieces, but the strands of beads her older sister, Emmy, brought back from Marti Gras still hung on the corner of the mirror above the dresser. I took a strand down and wound it around my hand. I remembered telling Bess that girls got beads for flashing their tits, so that was probably how Emmy got them. She was horrified.

  I sat on the end of the bed, smiling. Bess was such a prude. Was she now? I couldn’t count last night as proof of anything, our situation being different than if we’d met that night. And we didn’t have sex. W
ould she have sex with a man she just met? I had no idea.

  I laid back on her pillow and looked up at the ceiling where the glow-in-the-dark stars used to be. Now there were only sticky marks where they’d been peeled off. I didn’t remember her taking them down. Maybe she did it during our senior year, sometime before she left for college.

  I unwound the gold beads from my hand and dropped them beside me on the bed. I didn’t want to get up. I was exhausted and comfortable. How long could I stay there before Mom came looking for me? Jesus, I could only guess what she’d say if she found me napping in Bess’s bed. What a nightmare that would be.

  I rolled onto my side and came face-to-face with a small framed photo of Bess and I. We were about twelve, maybe thirteen and sitting on her front porch. I remembered her mom taking the picture. The frame said best friends. Why hadn’t I seen it before? Without thinking about why I was doing it, I picked up the photo frame and left Bess’s room. If I couldn’t have her, I’d at least have a parting gift.

  Bess

  I turned down my old street in Santa Cruz at eight-thirty that night, wide awake from sleeping so late and guzzling an energy drink while I drove. I gripped the steering wheel and trained my eyes on the right side of the road where halfway up, I’d see The Bast’s house first, then mine.

  One block away, I started to get a sinking feeling as their driveway came into view. Mr. Bast’s car sat in the driveway. Their garage was open, but there wasn’t an Aston Martin parked inside.

  I pulled into my parents’ driveway and turned off my car. How could I have been so wrong about him coming home? I was so certain I’d find him here. Glancing over at his old house, disappointment stirred inside me. I wanted to prove to myself that there was a small part of him I still knew. I was wrong. Or, I suppose, I was right. I didn’t know Derek Bast anymore.

  I took my house key out of my bag and let myself inside. It was strange being there without my mom and dad home. Even if there was no reason to be here, I’d stay overnight and head back into the city in the morning. Driving another five or six hours tonight wasn’t going to happen.