More than ‘JUST’ Friends

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More than ‘JUST’ Friends Page 22

by Ford, Mia


  A tear starts to roll, which is absolutely the last thing I need. To try and stop it, I push myself into a sitting position with the determination of facing the day and whatever it may hold, but a wave of sickness and revulsion overcomes me, almost flooring me once again.

  Why do I feel so bad? I slump forward, trying to remember. But of course, it’s a hangover. I know that really. It was Luci’s birthday last night, and we went a little wild. Or a lot wild, I haven’t got a freaking clue. All I’m certain of is that everything hurts, nothing feels good anymore, and if I’m not careful I might puke.

  “Move,” I remind myself, before the tears come again. “Get up, make coffee or something.”

  I shuffle my aching body across the bedroom with the sheet still wrapped around me and I stagger towards the kitchen. I nearly jump in the air when I hear snores coming from the couch.

  “Oh, fuck, Luci! I didn’t realize that you were here.”

  “Huh?” She stirs and smirks at me. “Oh yeah, I couldn’t be bothered to go home. You don’t mind?”

  “No, I don’t mind. You want a coffee?”

  Luci bounds off the couch looking surprisingly less zombie like than me, and she follows me into the kitchen, all full of beans as if she barely drank a damn thing last night. I just don’t know how she does it. I’m so weak when it comes to booze. It didn’t used to be this way; in college I could really handle it.

  “So, last night was fun, wasn’t it?” Luci squeals with excitement. “I cannot believe how wild it got. And Tim was so hot. I can’t believe how long I spent kissing him. Thank God I got his number.”

  I have vague flashes of memories of that, but not really enough to join in the conversation.

  “I don’t know why you rejected Ben though. He was gorgeous and so much into you.”

  “Ben?” I screw my nose up in confusion. I don’t have any recollection of any Ben.

  “Oh, you know.” Luci nudges me playfully in the side. “Tim’s mate. The blond guy. Really tall. Nice green eyes. He was gorgeous actually, if I hadn’t been kissing Tim then I would have thought about it.”

  “Oh yeah.” I nod slowly. “Yeah I remember. He just… isn’t my type, that’s all.”

  “Oh right, sure. Because he doesn’t have dark hair and dark eyes.”

  I clap my hand in front of my mouth to stop the sickness from flowing. How can Luci see into my mind? It’s like she can see my thoughts and I haven’t even vocalized them yet. Or ever. I won’t ever tell Luci that I’ve been dreaming about Jace, she will absolutely kick my ass.

  “You have got that funny look on your face again,” she tells me wryly. “You’re thinking about him. You need to stop. He’s gone now, you shouldn’t think about him again. You need to move on.”

  I turn away from her so she can’t see the heat in my cheeks. “I don’t have time to move on.”

  “Oh right, because you’re so busy with work.” I don’t need to see the eye roll; I know it’s there. “I have heard it all before. But that isn’t the real reason, is it? It’s because that bastard broke your heart and you’re scared to move on.” I hand Luci the mug and move over to the table, barely meeting her eyes. “But it’s time, it’s been six years.” Luci takes the seat opposite me and glares. “I know it isn’t easy. I do get it, trust me. The idiot had to get famous after college so now it’s hard to escape him, but you shouldn’t put your life on hold.”

  I hate how accurate she is, it stings to listen to this, but I know what my best friend is like. She won’t let me ignore things just because it’s difficult for me. She’s much more of a ‘take the bull by the horns’ sort of person. And since she was there for me during the time I was with Jace and when he destroyed me as well. If anyone understands this situation, it’s her, so I really do need to listen to her advice.

  “I haven’t been putting my life on hold, I have just been busy, that’s all.”

  “Plenty of women have high powered careers like yours and love as well.”

  “I will have love, when the time is right.” I offer a one-shouldered shrug. “I’m just waiting…”

  Luci shakes her head at me, the disappointment evident in her expression. “Addison, I have been patient with you and sympathetic as well, but now it’s time for some tough love.”

  “You mean everything that’s come before this moment wasn’t tough love?”

  Luci completely ignores me. “So, I’m going to help you along with your journey and I’m signing you up to a dating agency.”

  My head throbs harder. “What the fuck are you talking about, Luci? I’m too hungover for that.”

  “A dating agency! It’ll be fun.” She beams at me like she’s come up with the answer to world peace or something. “I know you don’t want to do all the apps, I get that. Online dating isn’t for you, that’s fine. But this… well it’s different. It’s more personal. You will meet the woman doing the matching and she’ll find the right match for you. Or a selection of matches, they might even let you choose.”

  “No, no, no.” I shake my head hard. “I don’t want any of that, I just want to…”

  “Focus on your career until you get to the top. I know, Addison, I hear it all the time. Thing is, you’re managing editor now. How much higher can you go? The time is now.”

  I part my lips, wanting a million reasons to come out of my mouth to stop her from doing this, but Luci is relentless, and I know that eventually, somehow, she’ll get me to agree. Best to just say yes now and to get out of it later. I’ll find an excuse somehow. There is always an excuse somewhere.

  “Okay, fine, whatever, but I don’t see how some woman I don’t know can pick out the love of my life.”

  Luci snorts. “It doesn’t always have to be about the love of your life, you know. You can just have fun. Treat it like an experiment. Just try and move on from fucking Jace Fairs already.”

  I nod determinedly. I guess that is that then. I’m going to a dating agency to meet men. I doubt it’ll do much use but if it can get Jace out of my mind even a little bit then it’ll be a good thing because that future is well and truly over.

  Chapter 2

  Jace

  “Fuck.” The first word that comes out of my cotton dry, raw as hell, mouth seems to be the same every single morning. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

  I stare up at the crack in the ceiling through bleary eyes, wondering where it came from. This is supposed to be a posh hotel, a five star one, they all are, but there is always an imperfection somewhere, I just need to find it. This one is easier because it’s right above my head, so I guess I don’t need to bother searching.

  “Fucking ceiling.”

  I inhaled deeply, trying to ignore the strong scent of booze that seems to be stuck inside my nostrils, and I turn on to my side. But the image there doesn’t fill me with anymore glee than the crack. It makes me feel sick and reminds me that I’m in for a very awkward morning. After all, that curtain of red hair must be attached to someone, mustn’t it? Even if I can’t remember who the hell she is.

  At least she isn’t a blonde, I remind myself. It’s always worse when they are blonde.

  Hooking up with random women used to be amazing, a real perk to the rock star profession. Women threw themselves at me wherever I was and I freaking loved it. I relished it, being in The Puppeteers, burying myself in a different person every single night, all the while forgetting about the blonde I left behind, the woman who shattered my heart and left me with nothing but a numb empty chest. That’s why blondes are an issue, they remind me of the sweet, delicious Addie Laing, and that’s someone I cannot think about ever again.

  Not unless I want to lose it.

  Yet, random women don’t make the cut anymore. I don’t feel like I’m forgetting or moving on. The so-called rock star lifestyle doesn’t make me as happy as it once did. It doesn’t feel as fun and satisfying. Yes, it’s nice to have sold-out stadiums and fans screaming my name, it’s awesome to know that the world is singing the lyrics to
my songs, yet I’m not fulfilled. The rest of the band are, they fucking love all of this. It’s the dream for them, but for me it isn’t. It should be, this is what I always thought that I wanted, but it doesn’t feel like it should.

  But what the hell else am I supposed to do with my musical talents? This is the pinnacle of a music career; I don’t have anything else. I have to keep going with this until it ends and I need to find a way to be grateful as well. Many people would kill to be in my shoes, including teenage me, so I need to make myself happy. That shouldn’t be hard. I mean, I have enough money to last forever, enough people around me to always have company, enough thrills in my life to keep me going… I should be over joyed.

  I will be, I tell myself determinedly. I was once before and I will be again.

  “Morning you.” The redhead flicks her hair out of the way and she smirks at me. Even with her make up smeared and a look of a hangover that matches mine, she has a sultry look. I’m sure she was a sex goddess last night which is how she ended up in my hotel bed, but today I’m not in the mood. There isn’t any stirring in any part of my body. I just need her gone. “Why don’t you come over here?”

  “I erm… I just need to… you know…”

  I scuttle out of the bed quickly and move over to the window. She reaches for her phone and my instincts snap into place. She wants a picture of me, a memento of our night together, and a naked one will earn her notoriety online. She might even make money from it if she’s lucky. I’ve had that done to me before. So, I grab my sweat pants and I slip backwards into the bathroom before she can get what she wants.

  She’s insatiable, but they usually are. Our fans have to be the craziest women in the world.

  “Fucking hell.” I shake my head sadly. “What am I doing?”

  As I dress in the sloppiest outfit, I can find which will stop any pictures from looking good, I wonder why I’m so trapped. It doesn’t matter which way I look there isn’t a way out. I’m stuck here. Stuck in this emotionally draining shit show.

  I grab my cell phone off the side of the bathroom sink, where thankfully I must have left it, and I fire off a text to Billy, my manager, who is great at getting me out of this sort of situation. He should be by now, he’s been doing it for me and the rest of us for six long years.

  Jace: Billy, I need the call. Thanks!

  Only a split second later, the call comes through. I step out of the bathroom so the maximum effect can be heard. The redhead is on top of the sheets now, her naked body fully on display. She is gorgeous, there’s no denying that, but still I don’t feel a damn thing.

  “Hello, Billy, what’s going on?”

  “Jace, where the fuck are you?” he barks angrily. “We need you, you’re supposed to be here…”

  “Oh shit, of course.” I clap my palm to my forehead hard. “I forgot. I’m coming.”

  “We need you here now. This isn’t a game; you know?”

  “I know, I know. I’m sorry, Billy.”

  I hang up the phone and give the redhead an apologetic look. She is already grabbing her clothes, knowing that I’m needed somewhere else. I start on with my excuse, but she nods understandingly. She gets it, she knows who I am, that I’m needed, that she has to share me with the rest of the world.

  She kisses me lightly and slips me a piece of paper with her phone number on, as if I’m ever going to call her, and exits the room quickly and quietly, thankfully leaving me all by myself.

  I breathe out a sigh of relief and lean my back against the door so no one else can come inside. I am needed for band stuff, but not until later on so I have all the morning to do whatever the hell I want. I could go out, go for coffee, eat some cake, shop, do whatever the fuck normal people do on a daily basis when they have some free time, or I could hide out here and head back to sleep in a bed in a locked anonymous room where I can’t be mobbed.

  The answer is obvious; I don’t know why I’m acting like I have a choice. I’m stuck here until the tour bus is here to pick us all up and to take us to the next city. So, I flop onto the bed with my cell phone still clutched between my fingers. I alternate between staring at the screen and that damn crack in the ceiling until I know what I have to do. I don’t have any choice anymore; I have to go back to her.

  This isn’t healthy, I scold myself as I type in her name. This isn’t right.

  The problem is it’s been six years and I cannot let her go. I blame the Internet for that. I can’t escape her. If this had happened a few years ago, I would have been able to move on and forget about her easily, but she’s always there at a touch of a button. I just have to type in her name and I can find out what she’s up to these days, who she’s spending time with, what became of her. It’s a nightmare, but I’m addicted.

  “Oh, Addie.” I stroke my finger down her face on my screen, my heart shattering all over again. She’s changed a little in the last six years, she’s grown more into herself, she somehow manages to look even more beautiful than ever before. There’s a confidence to her that wasn’t there in college, she’s more of an adult. I wish I knew more about the person she’s become. I bet she’s amazing. “I miss you too much.”

  I click onto her page and run my eyes quickly over everything. It seems that she’s still a managing editor for a newspaper, which isn’t much of a surprise, she’s smart and ambitious, I always knew that she’d go far, and there still isn’t any mention of a boyfriend, which is more of a relief than it should be.

  “There might be a man in her life,” I mutter to myself. “She just might not plaster it over the Internet.”

  But I can’t imagine her with a man, or more I don’t want to. It’s selfish, I know, since I have been with lots of women, but I want her to remain pure for me. Even though it’s been six years and I can’t see us ever finding a way back to one another. It just isn’t possible. Especially since I don’t even know why it ended. One day, things were amazing, the best they could have been, I was happy and I thought that she was too. I assumed that we would last forever, making it through thick and thin and everything in between.

  But then she was gone, and I had nothing left. I was an empty void who would do anything to fill it… I guess a part of that is more true than I care to ever admit.

  Luci Emery tagged Addison Laing in a status.

  I nearly drop my phone in shock. It’s almost as if Luci can see me looking at her page and this is her way of reminding me to keep the hell away. Addie’s best friend never took much of a shine to me and I don’t suppose that has changed now. I’m sure she still despises me.

  Curiosity gets the better of me. I need to see the status. It doesn’t matter how much Luci hates me or even that she’s onto me. I just need to know what the hell is going on with Addie.

  ‘What a crazy day! Things are looking up @ Hayley Spraggon’s Dating Agency - with Addison Laing’

  “A dating agency?” I exclaim in shock. “For who? For Luci or Addie? Who is dating?”

  My heart races at the speed of light, it pounds heavily in my throat, I can barely breathe under the pressure of it. The idea of Addie with anyone is killing me, and actively looking for someone is worse. I can’t stand it. I want to scream. The moment that I know she’s moved on is the second that everything is lost.

  I tug my fingers through my hair and pace the room, the urge to get out from these four walls is now crushing me. Killing me. I need to do something, to take action, to cling on to this feeling that’s nothing like the numbness I’ve been feeling for as long as I can remember. I don’t know what yet, but there has to be something that I can do, isn’t there?

  Panic almost consumes me; I haven’t ever felt so deeply before. This is sheer, it’s intense, it’s boundless. I clutch my stomach, then my head, trying to locate the source of the anxiety to shut it off.

  I stare at the status again, then at Addie’s face, and all I want to do is to be by her side. That would feel so much better than this, I know it. I just know that any sort of life with her
would be more fulfilling than being a famous rock star where everyone knows my fucking name.

  But there isn’t any way to get back to her. Is there?

  Is there?

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  Mia is a contemporary romance writer who loves to write about strong, gorgeous, Greek God like alpha men who love protecting their sassy and sexy women.

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  Ignite My Passion (Book 3 of “The Vegas Men Series”)

 

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