The Replacement War: A Rock Star Rom Com

by Lisa Suzanne

  We’ve been up later.

  We’ve made our decision.

  I look around the small table in the back of Emerson’s. We’ve sat at this table hundreds if not thousands of times.

  But this time, something’s different.

  Kane is back here with us, so that’s not the thing.

  If I’m really being honest, a lot of things are different.

  I’m married. I have a kid.

  I have a kid.

  The past me sat in this room and never even dreamed of kids in my future. It didn’t happen until I met the woman I couldn’t imagine my life without, and so I get why Kane made the decision he did.

  It was right for him.

  It brought him to his happy ending even if it threw a major wrench into the career the five of us built. And in the end, I’ve grown enough in the last couple years to see that’s what love is really all about. Giving up everything for the one person who’s your other half. That’s a true happy ending even if it isn’t what we all wanted.

  Would I give up MFB for Kylie?

  If the situation called for it, I’d have to. In a heartbeat. She’s the mother of my child now, and nothing, no bond and no career and no song and no amount of money can come between that.

  But that’s the difference between my situation and Kane’s. I would never have to make that choice. That’s life, though, and over the nearly two months that’ve passed since Kane told us he was leaving, I’ve had time to process it. It sucks, and it hurts, and we’re paying a hefty price for it...but he did what he had to do. And Kylie is the one who made me see that I can’t fault him for that.

  I glance at Kane, and he’s nodding. I look around the table at the other men seated there. Brody, Adam, and Rascal are nodding, too.

  Just the five of us, like we were for so long as different women came and went and came and went until someone just stuck.

  And fuck but I can’t believe this is what we’re doing. As much as I understand it, it doesn’t mean I have to like it.

  “Before we really do this,” I say, “I just have to ask one more time. Kane, are you absolutely sure about this?”

  He chuckles. He shakes his head. “No,” he says. “But I had to take a leap, and I can’t go back now. I’m already in the studio with Ruby. We’re planning a summer tour, and Mark told me Ashmark is planning yours, too. Our schedules will probably clash. I wish that wasn’t the reality of it. I wish I could be in two places at once because fuck, I already miss the four of you.”

  “We’re not going anywhere,” Brody says softly, and I glance at him in surprise. He seemed the most hurt by Kane leaving, and I didn’t think he’d be so quick to forgive.

  Kylie must’ve gotten to him. Or maybe she got to his fiancée, anyway, and maybe she’s the one who got to him.

  “We’re still on hiatus anyway,” Adam says.

  “How long until Emily is having that kid?” Kane asks.

  “Four weeks.”

  “Jesus,” Kane says. He whistles low. “Four weeks until the second one of you bastards is a dad.” He shakes his head. “Who would’ve thought? Ten years ago, when we first started jamming right here at this very bar, did you ever see any of this?”

  I huff out a chuckle as the others around me do the same. “I never saw us not jamming together,” I admit.

  Kane nods. “I didn’t, either. And I’m sorry for changing that. I’m sorry you all are doing this competition to replace me. But you’ve chosen right. You’ve chosen well. And just because I’m with Ruby now doesn’t mean we can’t still jam. We’re under the same label. If one of you has something going on and I don’t, call me. If you want to get drunk on whiskey, call me. If you want to talk, call me. If you want to smoke cigars and play poker, call me. I’m not far, and you’ll always be my brothers.”

  A rare bit of uncomfortable silence falls over the five of us.

  “What I’m trying to say is that I love you assholes,” Kane says, breaking the tension, and we all laugh.

  “Before someone starts crying, how about a shot?” Brody asks, and we all cheer in agreement.

  We don’t stop at one.

  We don’t even stop at two or three or four.

  I lose count after that.

  But we laugh.

  We play a little poker at the Emerson’s back room table.

  We smoke some cigars.

  We drink more whiskey, and we switch to beer after a while.

  We act like we’re not all nearing thirty, and it’s just like old times even though it’s not old times now that some of us are married, some of us are engaged, some of us have kids or one on the way, and one of us isn’t actually one of us anymore.

  The nature of why we’re back here right now doesn’t erase the intrinsic bond we share because of our history together. Nothing will erase that.

  Our bond goes as deep as blood even though we’re not related, and Kane will always be a part of that...even though he’s physically somewhere else now.

  It’s time to induct someone new into our bond.

  CHAPTER 49: GAGE

  I want to tell her how amazing she is.

  I want to tell her how much I admire what she did up on that stage tonight.

  If the competition was solely for technical skills and the ability to chime in on back-up vocals to a level of sheer perfection, she should win.

  But we both know the competition is about far more than that, and despite my efforts to throw it to her in the one-on-one interview I did with the band, I have a feeling I’m going to win.

  I should feel more joy at that, but it means she loses.

  When we started this whole thing and we found each other here that first night and she called me out in front of everybody, the last thing I wanted was to see her win. I said I wasn’t here to make friends, and I meant it.

  But somewhere along the way, my feelings took precedent again.

  And now if I win, I’ll be devastated for her. If she wins, I’ll be devastated for myself.

  So no matter who wins here, I still lose.

  I lose her.

  I lose the chance to be with her every day, to see her and to just be around her. I’m not ready for our time together to end...and I should probably tell her that.

  We don’t get the chance to talk, though.

  It’s late when we get home, and Kat still pulls me into a confessional despite my exhaustion. She presses me with memories from our first night here when both Lexi and I said things we can’t take back, like she’s trying to put a clamp on my feelings for her.

  Ben pulls Lexi into a different confessional around the same time, and by the time I’m done, her bedroom door is closed.

  We have another three nights here in this house together...just her and me. Oh, and those annoying assistant producers. So I guess we won’t really be alone.

  She must still be asleep when I get up because her door is closed. I head downstairs and take a long swim, and when I get out of the water, I sprint up and down the beach behind our place. I run in a pattern down to the water, dip my legs in, and run back toward the house. I do this probably fifty times as a way to burn off some of the nervous energy coursing through me, but it doesn’t seem to help.

  My lungs are burning and I’m on fire from the heat of my sprints, so I dip back into the pool after washing off the sand.

  I’m tired.

  I was already mentally tired, but now physical exhaustion joins the game. And I’m hungry.

  I towel off to head inside and grab breakfast. As soon as I shut the patio door behind me, I find Lexi. Her eyes fall to my abdomen.

  “Good morning.” I automatically flex the muscles there in my stomach just to give her something to look at. I watch as that same hint of lust falls over her—the one that became so familiar to me in such a short amount of time.

  She finally flicks her eyes to mine and gives me a wry smile. “Good morning.”

  “Sleep good?” I ask.

  She shrugs, and a
fter everything we’ve been through, small talk just feels strange. “Not really. It’s weird how it’s all over and now we just wait.”

  I press my lips together. “So much has changed.”

  She nods as her eyes turn a little sad. “Yeah. Things are different now, and in a few days, things are going to change even more for one of us.” She presses her lips together then slips a hand into the pockets of the shorts she’s wearing.

  I can’t help when my eyes flick to her long, gorgeous legs made even longer by the short length of her shorts. I blow out a breath and nod. “Yeah, you’re right.”

  And I wish I could find the words to tell her that it doesn’t really matter who wins—that I’m in love with her and I want to give this a real try with her. That our weekend was so much more than a fling and I’m so sorry for the things I said out of shock when we ran into each other and I’m even sorrier for thinking I could manipulate my way to a win in this competition by distracting her focus.

  But I seem to clam up.

  Maybe it’s the cameras all around us picking up our every word when I want this to be a private conversation.

  Maybe it’s the fear of rejection...or the reignited fear of abandonment all over again.

  Whatever the case, I don’t say anything.

  Not to her, anyway.

  But when Kat calls me into the confessional after breakfast and a shower, all bets are off.

  “What are your plans for the next few days?” she asks.

  “I don’t have any plans,” I admit. What the fuck are we supposed to do? We aren’t allowed to leave the house. We don’t have our phones, don’t have internet or television or any normal shit that normal people have.

  I glance at the door. Lexi is out there somewhere, and I’m in here, but it doesn’t matter. Even if we were sitting beside one another out there, we’d still be miles apart. Especially after our conversation this morning. Things have changed between us, and while I’ll be devastated if I don’t win, I’ll be equally devastated for her if I do.

  I came in here wanting to bust through the competition into first place, and now I want to see her win. I never thought I’d think that, but I want her happiness above my own. I want her to see all her dreams come to fruition.

  Even at the expense of my own.

  “Just try not to get in Lexi’s way, I guess,” I finally answer.

  Kat’s brows shoot up. “Not get in her way?”

  For a moment, I forget what we’re doing here. I forget about the cameras and the lights and the microphones.

  I lay it all on the line.

  CHAPTER 50: LEXI

  “I need to show you something,” Ben says to me in the confessional after dinner. He pulls out a tablet and taps around, and then he hands it to me.

  My brows dip down when I spot Gage on the screen in one of the other confessional rooms. He’s handsome as ever, his hair grown in a little longer than the weekend we shared and his scruff a little overgrown but still ridiculously hot.

  “What’s this?” I ask.

  “Hit play,” Ben says. “It’s from this morning.”

  “Let me spell it out for you,” he says. He’s looking just past the camera, presumably at Kat. “I’m in love with Lexi Weber.”

  I gasp. “This is from this morning?” I ask, and Ben nods.

  “It took one night for me to know that, and every single day I’ve known her has just pushed me deeper into this place that I can’t seem to find my way out of. It’s dark and bleak because I said some things that pissed her off, and she did the same to me, and we clashed and fought this whole process.”

  His eyes turn down to his lap, but he continues talking. My own eyes fill with tears as I listen.

  “Might things have turned out differently if that first exchange between us had gone a little smoother? Probably not. We’d still be the final two. Sure, the tension in the house would be different, but the entire competition would’ve been far harder on us both if we’d have explored our relationship along the way. I might’ve given in or subconsciously fucked things up to give her an edge, and vice versa. I think it was important for us to remain on our own islands for this thing, but it’s over now, and I don’t want to be on my own island. I want to share an island with her, and I have no idea how the hell to tell her that. I have no idea how to tell her I’m hopelessly in love with her, and so I won’t.”

  The video cuts there.

  I assume there was more to the interview than just that, but that’s all I get.

  I want to watch it again and again and again but Ben takes the tablet from my hands and waits for my reaction.

  I have no idea what to say.

  “So?” Ben asks.

  My brows rise. “He’s in love with me?”

  “It would appear so.”

  I press my lips together. “Does he know you were showing me that?”

  He shakes his head. “He has no idea. How do you feel about him?”

  I’m quiet for a beat, and then I admit the truth. “I’m in love with him.”

  “Then go get him.”

  “It’s not that simple.” I shake my head. “In a couple days, one of us is going to be the winner of this entire thing. We both have hopes and dreams beyond this competition, and I refuse to be the one to hold him back from getting everything he deserves.”

  Ben rolls his eyes. “God, you two deserve each other.”

  My brows shoot up. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because he said the exact same thing. You’re both stubborn donkeys who need to get the hell over these invisible barriers holding you back. If you love him, stop sitting here with me and go fucking tell him.”

  “Why?” I ask. “Why would you push me to do that?”

  He shrugs. “Because I like you, Lex. I want to see you happy.”

  I narrow my eyes at him.

  He holds up both hands. “Fine, fine. Also because it’ll make for great television.”

  I stand and head toward the door. “That’s what I figured.”

  I slip through it and head up to my bedroom, kind of thankful I don’t run into him on my way there because I don’t know what I might’ve said if I had.

  I don’t know if I’m ready to confront what I just found out.

  I need time to think.

  I can’t deny it, though. Seeing him say the things he said on that little tablet screen affected me.

  He’s in love with me. I’m in love with him.

  The question remains, though: is love enough? Can the very unstable foundation we built over a few short days withstand the substantial changes coming our way?

  Or would it be easier to say it was just a fling?

  I know the answer. It would be easier to bow out.

  But love means risking everything, and based on how I felt in the few days we spent together when we weren’t enemies...I’m pretty sure he’d be worth it. We would be worth it.

  I lie on my bed and stare up at the ceiling.

  I find no answers there, and I realize that thinking things through has not in any way been my mojo when it comes to Gage Hoffman.

  I’ve been impulsive and unpredictable, and I’ve acted on my heart and my feelings without thinking it through even when it was out of character for me.

  So why am I up here right now thinking it through?

  I stand.

  I draw in a deep breath.

  I take a step toward the door, and then, before I lose my nerve, I open it and head down the stairs.

  It’s time to admit how I feel to the one person who needs to hear it.

  My heart pounds harder with each step I take toward him. I don’t even know where he is, to be honest, but I’ll find him.

  I scan the family room and kitchen, and both rooms are quiet. I check the basement, and he isn’t there. Not in the food room, either.

  I finally find him out on the patio. He’s stretched out on a lounge chair. A bottle of whiskey is perched on the table beside him, and he sits with
a tumbler pressed to his lips as he stares out over the pool and beyond into the darkness of night. The waves roll onto the shore not far away, the only sound breaking into the tranquil night.

  “Hey,” I say. I perch on the edge of the chair beside his.

  He glances over at me. “Hey,” he grunts. He holds up a glass as if to ask if I want some, and I shake my head.

  “Can we talk?”

  He shrugs and returns his gaze to the darkness of the beach. “Go for it.”

  “Are you drunk?”

  He chuckles. “Takes more than a few glasses of whiskey to get me drunk these days, darling.”

  “Darling?” I mutter.

  “So good thing I’ve had more than a few,” he says as if I didn’t speak at all.

  I blow out a breath, and then I shift so I’m leaning back on my own lounge chair. “Why are you out here drinking by yourself?”

  “Nothing else to do. No phones, no television, can’t even find porn on that shitty old computer they let us use. Tired of swimming, tired of working out, bored as fuck. Thought maybe drinking would help with the boredom.” He’s not slurring yet, but he’s definitely acting...strange.

  “Has it?”

  He shrugs. “Not yet. But you’re out here now, so things just got marginally more interesting.”

  “Glad to be of service,” I murmur, and he laughs like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. “Okay,” I say, and I move to stand. “We can just talk tomorrow.”

  “No, no, stay,” he says.

  “Why?”

  “Because I want you to.”

  “And you always get what you want, right?” I ask.

  He snorts. “Hardly.”

  “Name one time you didn’t,” I challenge.

  “Oh, uh, how about the day you walked out my hotel room door?”

  Silence falls between us. I have no response to that because it wasn’t what I wanted, either. It was our agreement, though. It was what we both had to do at the time.

  I regret that now.

  He was a stranger. What harm would there have been in just telling him what I was really doing in LA? I didn’t have to give specifics, and maybe we would’ve figured out the truth ahead of time instead of blindsiding each other that first night.