A Lush Betrayal

by Selena Laurence

  “Mel?”

  “Yeah?” I answer, trying to seem casual and failing miserably.

  “What happened tonight?”

  I sigh. This is humiliating. I don’t want to have to tell Joss Jamison that I’m such a child I didn’t really understand what the rock and roll lifestyle meant and that, when I finally got it, I was disgusted. I really didn’t want to be Little D anymore, but this will seal it. It’s no wonder my sister thought I needed to share a suite with her.

  “It doesn’t matter, Joss. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  He scoots closer until he can reach out with his foot and rub it along the top of my thigh.

  His voice is low and sends little shivers down my spine. “It does matter. I thought we were having a great time and then you ran off. I want to know if someone did something to upset you. Even if that someone was me. I’ll kick my own ass if necessary.”

  I giggle at that and finally look him in the eye. He seems so concerned. I can’t lie to him.

  “I think maybe I wasn’t fully prepared for the rock life is all.”

  “Yeah? Tammy hadn’t filled you in on the details, huh?” He sounds sympathetic. God, I want to crawl in a hole and never come out.

  “Tammy treats me like I’m a child. And I guess after the way I acted tonight, it’s no wonder,” I say bitterly.

  He scoots closer again. “Mel,” he says as he puts his fingers under my chin and tilts my face up so I’m forced to look him in the eye. “Do you think it wasn’t a shock for the rest of us the first time we went to a party with one of the bands we were opening for? I mean, I can tell you which band it was and what city the concert was in and even the year. And we talked about it for a solid month afterwards. It was fucking unbelievable. There was coke laid out all over the coffee tables and strippers giving lap dances for free. Walking around topless like it was the most natural thing in the world,” —he pauses momentarily— “which I guess in a certain way it is.” Then he laughs, and I can’t help but join him.

  “The point is,” he continues, “it takes getting used to for everyone. And you need to know that everyone handles this—the fame and the groupies and the things that are offered—differently.” He pauses again. “I assume you got an eyeful of Mike tonight?”

  “Um, yeah,” I answer, sticking my tongue out in a gagging motion.

  Joss cracks up. “You’re not the first to have that reaction. And that’s him. He was that way before we ever got famous. He just didn’t have nearly as much luck with it. But you know Walsh has never strayed from your sister. I swear it. Never.”

  I smile at the thought of my poor, whipped almost brother-in-law. “Given that, to the best of my knowledge, he’s still walking around with both balls, I believe you.”

  Joss grimaces. I shrug. He knows it’s true.

  Then I ask the question that’s haunted me all night. It flies out of my mouth unbidden.

  “And what about Joss Jamison? How does he handle the fame and the groupies and things that are offered?”

  He starts playing with my wet hair, running it through his fingers as he sits above me on the edge of the pool wall.

  “I won’t lie, Mel. Joss Jamison had himself a good time at first. Maybe not quite as good of a time as Mike, but I wasn’t immune to the offers.”

  I feel my heart plummet. It’s exactly what I feared. My eyes sting and I swallow to get myself under control. Stupid, stupid, Mel. He’s nothing to you. There’s no reason you should feel like this.

  “But,” he goes on, “the novelty wore off pretty fast, and Joss Jamison found that he likes to know the women he goes to bed with and prefers beer and scotch to coke and ecstasy.”

  I nod and feel my breath rush out in relief.

  “I’m no saint, Mel, but I’m not collecting women in every city, and if I’m seeing someone, I’m seeing her and no one else.”

  This is getting too close, too intense. I shouldn’t have started down this road with him. I don’t want to imagine a world where I’d be the woman Joss Jamison is “seeing.” It would not end well, and I don’t want to be that girl yet again. The stupid one. The one everyone sees and says, “How could she not have known?”

  “You don’t have to tell me all this, Joss. I’m sorry I pried. It’s none of my business.”

  “It is if I want it to be,” he says as his hand moves from my hair to the nape of my neck, where he rubs little circles on my skin. I fight the urge to throw my head back and moan. His hands are magic. “I like you, Mel, and I hope you’ll like me too eventually. I thought we were getting along well until tonight. If there’s something I can say or do to help you feel comfortable with me, tell me what that is. The last thing I want is you getting the wrong impressions and losing respect for me.”

  I look up at him, so surprised by how genuine he sounds.

  “Why? Why do you care what I think? You hardly know me and I’m no one important. Are you worried I’ll go to the press or something?”

  He scoffs. “Hell no. I mean, if you want to, go for it. I don’t give a shit what the press says about me. But I do know you, and that’s not what you’re about. I care about what you think because I care about you. I know that sounds like a line, but there’s something about you. I feel freer with you than I have in a long time. You’re like this bright spot in my day. I don’t want you to run away from me because you think I’m a douchebag like Mike.”

  I can’t help but smile up at him. “You could never be as douchey as Mike. I don’t think anyone could ever be as douchey as Mike.”

  He laughs again and then his hand moves from my neck to the back of my head. He keeps my face tilted up toward him as he leans down slowly, and I realize that he’s going to kiss me. My heart pounds so rapidly I think it’s going to explode right out of my chest. His breath brushes across my face and I can smell the scotch he prefers. Then I look directly into his eyes, and we both freeze, caught in the realization that what happens next may very well change the course of our lives. I know he sees it too. His pupils dilate, and he makes this soft noise in the back of his throat.

  Then his lips are on mine and it’s like the entire fabric of the universe has been torn asunder. Stars are shooting, clouds are billowing, wind is swirling, water is falling, the planets are aligning and realigning.

  He kisses my top lip gently, then my bottom one, and finally his tongue slips along them both. My own tongue slides out to meet his. His lips press more firmly against mine and he enters my mouth, all dark velvet. My heart is wrenched from its moorings, and the pain is so intense I nearly cry out. But instead, I grab his shoulders in a futile effort to ground myself somehow, because I think I was just set loose into the stratosphere and I’m terrified. This is beyond my wildest imaginings, and I don’t know how I’ll ever live in the normal world again.

  He pulls away for a minute and runs his lips across my forehead. “You are something special, Mel,” he says in a voice that is so rough it almost doesn’t sound human. It’s too fast, too much, just too. He slips into the water beside me and clutches me to him. I rest my head against his shoulder, simply breathing in the scent of him and chlorine and listening to his heart thudding under my ear, wondering what the hell we’re supposed to do now.

  Joss

  LIKE I told Mel, I’ve had my share of fun, living like the goddamn rock star I am. But I have never, ever felt anything like the sensations that course through me when I press my lips to hers. I know almost instantly—this is it—I’m done. This woman will either be my salvation or the death of me. There is no question. I should have known better than to risk another DiLorenzo female, but it’s too late now. I’ve lost control now that I’ve touched her. There’s no going back, and she is the most spectacular thing I’ve ever experienced.

  It’s so far beyond simple sexual attraction. I’ve got the world’s worst hard-on, but it’s what she’s doing to my gut and my chest and my head that’s going to kill me. When her hands fly up to my shoulders and cling to me,
I feel as though I’ve become her anchor, the only thing holding her to this earth. Without me, she’ll float away into a dimension beyond any I could ever reach. I’m not a religious guy, but she’s otherworldly, ethereal, more than this time and place. Is it fair for me to keep her here? Maybe she belongs elsewhere. And she sure as hell deserves better than me, but fuck it, I want her. More than I’ve ever wanted anything in my twenty-seven years of life. And I just can’t let her go, even though I probably should.

  She is pressed to my chest, breathing heavily, while I stroke her back and run my lips back and forth across her hair. Finally, I set her away from me enough that I can see her face. I gaze into those deep blue eyes and see fear and ecstasy and my own brilliant future. The future that didn’t exist until moments ago.

  I dive in for another taste of her firm, smooth lips. She moans as I push my tongue inside of her, and I wish I could record that sound for a song. It would go fucking platinum.

  Her gorgeous breasts are crushed against my chest, and I reach up and run a finger down under the edge of that tiny strip of fabric along the sides of her swimsuit. Her skin is like marble, smooth and cool from the water. But as she moves closer to me, I am painfully aware that the water is nowhere near cool enough to disguise the size and firmness of my dick. As much as I want to press that sucker against her as hard as I can, after the conversation we’ve just had, I’m thinking it’s not the best time. So I maneuver to keep my lower half out of the contact zone by kneeling on the stair below the one she’s sitting on, placing her knees on either side of my torso.

  As I move my mouth back to hers, my hand slips up and down her side until I come to the curve underneath her breast. I softly rub my thumb along the fabric of her swimsuit, feeling the give of her breast and the way it fits perfectly in my hand. My fingers graze her nipple and she gasps. I can’t help but smile against her lips.

  “You cold there, sweetheart?” I ask teasingly as her nipple pebbles up beneath my hand.

  “You’re just cruel,” she answers as she wiggles closer to me, pressing her fullness into my hand. I never thought it was possible to come in a swimming pool while only touching a woman with my lips and one hand, but she’s about to prove me wrong if she doesn’t stop.

  “If anyone’s cruel here,” I pant out, “it’s you. God, I’m trying not to scare you off, but you’re so fucking gorgeous, Mel.”

  She giggles shyly then runs her lips along my jaw and down my neck. I groan at the pleasure. I could stay in this damn water for weeks if she’d keep doing that. I continue to caress her breasts, first one and then another, finally sliding my hand inside her swim top, nearly breathless at the feel of her soft, sweet curves against my big, rough hands. God, she is glorious.

  “Mmm,” she moans as she places her palm flat against my chest. “You feel so good, Joss. Maybe we should take this downstairs?”

  “I’m thinking maybe not, Mel,” says a voice above us in the dark.

  Fuck! I jump, grabbing Mel and crushing her to me, ready to defend her. I take a deep breath, and I can feel her shaking against me as she discreetly reaches up between us and adjusts her top.

  “Christ, Walsh, you scared the fuck out of us. A little warning next time?” I say harshly.

  “Yeah, you were pretty preoccupied, dude. Not sure you’d have heard me if I’d ridden in on an elephant.”

  Mel pulls away from me and I’m freezing cold without her heat against my chest. She walks up the stairs and gets out of the pool. Walsh stands, arms crossed, and gives her a raised eyebrow as she looks at him then grabs her towel and wraps up.

  I turn my back on them and swim over to the far edge of the pool, not wanting to hop out and face Walsh while I’m still sporting a semi. Once I grab a towel from the hotel rack, I tie it around my waist and walk over to where Mel is gathering her possessions and Walsh is looking on like a father trying to be tolerant while she does it.

  “Tammy’s worried about you, Mel. Maybe you’d better go down and see her?” Even though it’s technically a question, he uses a tone that clearly says it’s not.

  She mumbles something like, “Yeah, fine,” and I make a move to follow her when Walsh grabs my arm and says, “Hold up, man. Can we talk for a minute?”

  I sigh, knowing what’s coming next, but I give him a nod and touch Mel on the shoulder. “Hey,” I say quietly. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  As she looks at me, I can see something that wasn’t there a few minutes ago—doubt. “Sure,” she answers, her eyes sliding away from mine. And then she’s gone.

  IN THE twenty years I’ve known Walsh, he has never once been the responsible one. Never. When we ditched school, I made the phony calls to the attendance line. When we partied, I figured out how to get home. When we were offered our first recording contract, I found a manager and an attorney to ink the deal. And if I wasn’t there to handle it for Walsh, Tammy was. It’s the way the three of us have operated for more than a decade, and I might never get used to the Walsh who is emerging post-rehab.

  After Mel has gone through the door to the stairwell, I turn to look at my lifelong friend, who is appraising me like—well, like he just caught me attempting to fuck his little sister.

  “Well, that was awkward,” he states.

  I give him a one-sided lip snarl. “No one invited you to interrupt, man.”

  He scratches his head and looks somewhat sheepish. “Look, I, uh, didn’t mean to embarrass you two, but Tammy asked me to come look for Mel. She had a feeling you might be up here together, although I don’t think she was expecting things to have gotten quite that far.”

  I whip off the towel around my waist, my hard-on definitely killed now, and start rubbing at my chest and arms to warm up.

  “What the hell did you want to talk to me about, Walsh?” I’m getting pissed quickly here. Tammy has sent Walsh to do her dirty work and he doesn’t even realize it.

  “Sit down, man.” He gestures to the nearby table and chairs on the pool deck.

  I sit, but not happily, and I convey that to him in every move I make.

  “Look.” He starts. “Tammy is all kinds of freaked out about you and Mel being buddies or whatever you’re calling it at this point.”

  “And I care about this why?”

  “Christ, Joss! What is your deal with Tammy these days? It’s like anything she says or does pisses you off. I feel like I spend all damn day tiptoeing around the two of you and whatever fucking axe you’ve got to grind.”

  I sigh and run my finger along the glass top of the table, noticing how the drops of water from my arms have smeared across the surface, kind of like how my night with Tammy has smeared across the surface of my life.

  “I don’t have any deal with Tammy,” I snap back. “I just don’t like being told who I can and can’t see. Tammy may be the boss of you, but she’s not my girlfriend or mother or sister. I don’t do her bidding, and she’d be smart to remember that.”

  Walsh clears his throat. There are some guys who’d kick your ass if you talked about their fiancées that way, but I know Walsh isn’t one of them, so I push it farther than is kind.

  “Look, Joss, I’m not here only because Tammy’s worried. I happen to agree with her on this one.” He holds up a hand, telling me to wait as I open my mouth to protest. “I’ve known Mel since she was ten years old, man. She’s like a little sister to me, and I care about her being happy. You’re my best friend, and as much as I want you to be happy too, I don’t think you’re the right thing for Mel.

  “She’s not like us, man,” he continues. “She’s got this, I don’t know, this special way about her. She’s an artist, and she’s sort of a new soul or something, you know? You and me and Tammy, we’ve been around this whole life a few times. We’ve seen it and felt it all before, but Mel, she’s just discovering.”

  I watch him, amazed that he really does seem to understand her. He sees her. He gets her, and in some ways it makes me sad. I thought I was the only one to see those things.
I thought if I realized she was special, it meant I was special too, and now I see I’m one of many.

  “In all the years I’ve known you, Joss, you’ve never stayed with one woman for more than a few weeks. You’re not a dog like Mike, but you’re also not the settling down kind. I’m worried you’ll hurt Mel, even if you don’t mean to.”

  I ponder the tabletop some more before I finally look up at him. While I want to be the good guy, the guy who says, “Yeah, I hear you and I respect that you’re looking out for your future sister-in-law,” I can’t be. I’m already in too deep. I deserve my turn, dammit. I get to be happy too. So instead, I stand up, looking down at him, fisting and unfisting one hand at my side while the other holds the towel.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way, man. I’m the first to admit that I’ve never stuck around with any one woman very long. I’ve never met one worth sticking to. But Mel might be that woman, and I’m not going to miss the chance to find out because you and Tammy are in overprotective-parent mode. Mel’s an adult. She can decide who she wants to see and when. I can promise you I’ll respect her, and I can promise you I won’t do anything to hurt her if I can help it. Other than that, it’s between me and Mel.”

  Mel

  I’VE BEEN avoiding Joss for three days now. Through two more concerts, twenty hours of bus rides, two nights in hotels, and another of the band’s well-known green room post-show parties. He hasn’t made it easy, finding ways to approach me in dark hallways, empty rooms, and deserted hotel gyms. We both have a propensity to exercise late at night, and he’s used that to any advantage he could, which is quite a bit. There’s nothing to equal the sight of Joss Jamison shirtless running full-out on a treadmill. The term golden boy was invented for him. It’s like he was blessed with every attractive genetic trait a man could have.

  We are now eight days into the tour and heading for Utah, or Colorado—I’ve actually lost track. I can see why they tell the guys what city they’re in every night before they go out on stage. We’re on a tight schedule tonight, so we all have to stay on the bus and sleep in the bunks. There are two really small bedrooms. Of course, Tammy and Walsh have one, Joss has the other, and Mike and Colin are relegated to the bunks in the hallway. I was surprised that neither one of them complained about that. Apparently, no matter how much Mike bitches that Joss is the king of the castle, deep down even he accepts Joss’s rule.