Groupie (Rock-Hard Beautiful Book 1)

by C. M. Stunich

  If I had to bet money, I'd say they were fucking.

  “Crap,” I whisper, but then Cope's pulling me across the street and I just have no fucking clue what to say to Michael anyway. No fucking clue.

  Cope unlocks the doors to the truck and helps me inside, giving me this apologetic sort of smile as he looks up at me.

  “Can I take you somewhere else for breakfast?” he asks and then lets his smile morph into a small grin. “Or to the Botanical Gardens?”

  “Either of those things sounds heavenly,” I say as he closes my door for me and I take one last look out the back window toward the restaurant. Michael is walking back down the sidewalk, pausing to put out his cigarette and throw away the butt.

  Vanessa … is kissing Tim.

  My mouth drops open as Michael enters the restaurant and I watch him navigate the busy tables through the row of front windows. Just before he turns the corner toward the booth, Vanessa and Tim break apart and I watch as Michael's girlfriend tosses a beautiful smile his way.

  Fuck.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  What am I supposed to do with all of that?

  As if breakfast isn't bad enough, the day just gets worse and worse.

  “You came all the way out here to not attend my show, to tell me I can't stay in your hotel room with you, to refuse to stay in the bus with me. So tell me, Van, why the fuck are you here?” I ask as we drive around the city in Tim's rental car. The two of us are sitting in the back while he drives.

  I have to admit, his presence here fucking sucks. When did he become one of Vanessa's henchmen, defending her at every turn, chastising me, butting in on all of our conversations? Already today, we've been to an art museum, out to lunch, and to the fucking College Football Hall of Fame. All of it with Tim in tow, none of it fun. It's just been a nonstop bicker fest this whole damn time.

  “We'll have plenty of time to spend together,” she says, leaning over and kissing me on the mouth. I think she expects the move to silence me, but in reality … I feel nothing when she touches me, kisses me. I felt only dread when I turned the corner in that restaurant and saw her sitting there with my brother.

  I try to rationalize all the negative feelings in my head by telling myself that I deserve this, all of it. It was me that fucked up this relationship, turned it toxic. So no matter what I'm feeling right now, I'll push through it. Besides, Vanessa might be annoying, but she's tall, leggy, blonde, gorgeous. She and Lilith are so different they may as well be night and day: tall and short, blonde and redheaded, thin and curvy, tan and pale.

  I refuse to admit to myself that I like Lilith better.

  Inside though, I know it's true.

  “Alone time, Vanessa,” I snap, gesturing at the back of my brother's head. His shoulders and neck are tense as hell, and I see his hands tightening around the steering wheel like he wants to punch me or something. God, seeing him does nothing but stir up resentment and rage in both of us. At this point our relationship's so damn toxic I feel like we should just call it quits.

  But Tim did give up his youth to raise me. He did. I should be fucking grateful, right? Only all I am right now is angry. I feel like I'm always angry nowadays.

  “Look,” she starts with a long sigh, pushing her long, blonde hair over her shoulder. Vanessa adjusts her cleavage as I watch, trying to drum up some sexual feelings toward her. Like, if we can make it into bed together, everything will go back to normal, right? I mean, I am pent-fucking-up. That, and maybe I'm full of guilt, too. I still have to tell her about the kiss, and there's last night … What the fuck was I thinking? Maybe I was right: maybe my past is too dark to overcome? Maybe I'll never be able to commit to a woman the way I should, treat her fucking right, be anything but a goddamn bastard. “Let's go back to the hotel; Daddy's out at his convention thing right now, so he won't mind.”

  I purse my lips and feel my nostrils flare as I lean back and run my fingers through my hair. Somehow in the frenzy of the morning, I forgot to bring the bag from the jewelry store with me. Was that a Freudian slip or just coincidence? Anyway, I bought both the opal teardrop necklace and the rhodonite heart necklace, unsure which one I wanted to give Vanessa … and which one I wanted to give Lilith. I told myself I was just buying her something as a thank you. I mean, after that fucking story she told me? I had to.

  Sitting here now, I don't feel stupid for buying Lilith a gift, I feel ridiculous for thinking Vanessa would appreciate something with that much sentiment.

  “We can go back, have some drinks, swim in the pool,” she says, tugging on my arm and pouting her lips at me. “What do you say, Mikey?”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine?” she snaps. “Wow, real enthusiastic. I'm glad I flew all the fucking way out here to see you on the anniversary of our baby's death.”

  My heart breaks when she says that and my stomach turns over a dozen times. Jesus. I am a selfish fucking asshole.

  I turn to Vanessa and reach out, taking her hand and curling my fingers around it. I rub my thumb across her knuckles and force myself to take several deep, slow breaths. She looks at me and I make myself to smile.

  “I'm sorry,” I say, that awful wave of guilt drowning me and any feelings I might have towards Lilith. Because honestly, I've spent the last few days thinking about breaking up with Vanessa for good. Like, Jesus, I realize how fucking weird this whole thing is with Lilith and my bandmates, but for the life of me I can't help wanting it. I came close last night, so damn close. When I came out of the bathroom and saw what I saw, I almost lost it completely. I couldn't stop thinking that I should be number fucking five, that she should climb off Paxton's lap and come sit on mine.

  “Are you?” Vanessa asks haughtily, forcing me to breathe past the rush of anger.

  “Yes, I'm sorry. I know how hard losing that baby was on you. That's why I'm trying to make it right. I was just want to spend some time together with just us is all.” I glance back in Tim's direction and notice that he hasn't relaxed at all. If anything, he looks even more tense. He's been that way all goddamn day.

  Vanessa smiles at me and then removes her hand from mine, taking out a compact to fix her makeup. We don't speak for the rest of the drive.

  When we do get to the hotel, I take a moment to hang outside and smoke while Vanessa goes upstairs to change into her swimsuit. Tim follows her up to his own room which is fine by me since we have nothing more to say to each other than we did last time I saw him, a few months ago back home in Seattle. When we're both in town, we have lunch occasionally, make small talk, but neither of us really cares about having any sort of intimate relationship.

  “Fucking fuck,” I growl, leaning my head back against the building and enjoying my cigarette. I think I'm on pack number two today; that's how goddamn stressful all of this is.

  The sun beats down on my skin and even though the air is cold, the sunshine feels hot, searing my eyes through my closed lids. When my phone rings, I just assume it's Vanessa and answer without opening my eyes.

  “What?”

  There's a long pause before someone clears their throat on the other end.

  “Michael, it's Lilith,” she says tentatively and my eyes slide open, glancing at the unknown number on the screen. One of the boys must've given her my number which, surprisingly, I don't mind. Normally I am militant about that shit.

  “Hey,” I say softly and then sigh. “I'm sorry about breakfast.”

  “Not a big deal,” she says in a rush, her words tumbling over each other. There's another long pause as I wait for her to continue. Clearly, she called me so she must have something she wants to say. “Michael, I … need to tell you something.” There's a graveness to her voice that freaks me the fuck out.

  I drop my cigarette to the ground and crush it out with my boot, adjusting my position so that I'm standing in the shade of a sprawling white oak tree, the leaves rustling softly in a gentle breeze.

  “Lilith,” I say slowly, my heart pounding as I try to drum up
any number of awful situations that she might want to talk about. Like, did I actually fuck her that night I got blackout drunk? I can't remember a damn thing. That would be so fucking like me. I close my eyes again. “What?”

  “I don't really know how to say this,” she starts, like this is something she's been thinking about, debating on, all damn day.

  “So just say it,” I snap, but not because I'm mad at her, just because I'm frustrated with this whole situation. Honestly, I'd much rather be back on the bus with Lilith than standing here getting ready to borrow my brother's swim trunks so I can spend an awkward afternoon at the pool with Vanessa.

  “Michael, I think … I don't really know what's going on, but I feel like I should say something. If our positions were reversed, I'd want to know. I just want to say beforehand that I … this isn't because of the kiss or anything.”

  “Jesus Christ, I'm already on pins and needles here. What is it?”

  “When Cope and I were leaving the restaurant, I happened to glance back and saw Vanessa and Tim kissing.”

  My heart stops.

  “What?” I ask, this surly, awful quality to my voice that I don't even feel like I'm in control of. It just comes out this scathing, angry sound and I can't stop it.

  “They were flirting, touching, kissing. I didn't see too much of it, and honestly, I'm not sure what to make of the whole situation, but I just thought I should let you know. They were mouth to mouth …”

  “Are you fucking with me?” I ask, hating myself for being such a dick. “Is this a joke?”

  “It's not a joke. I saw them kissing and I thought you deserved to know.”

  “Really? Is that what I deserve? You don't even fucking know me,” I growl, taking my anger at Vanessa, at Tim, out on Lilith. It's not fair, not at all; I know that. It's not her that I'm mad at. “You know what, Lilith, just because you're alone and your life fucking sucks doesn't mean that I have to suffer along with you.”

  I hang up the phone in a rage, lighting another cigarette and pacing back and forth for several moments until I can calm myself down. The tree rustles its leaves like an angry murmur, chastising me for being such an asshole.

  Tim and Vanessa? Really? Really?

  No fucking way.

  Just … no.

  I turn and head inside toward the elevator, languishing in my own stubborn doubt for thirteen floors until I end up knocking on Tim's door with a fist. He opens it, already dressed in a swimsuit, Vanessa sitting on the edge of his bed in a gold bikini …

  “Finally,” she says, tossing me a pair of black trunks when I step inside. “We've already ordered drinks to be delivered to the pool. I got you a long island.”

  “You know,” I say as I finger the stretchy fabric in my hands and close my eyes against a surge of rage, “I was under the impression that this is where our alone time was going to start, so what the fuck is he still doing here?”

  “Michael, don't,” Vanessa says and even though it's right in fucking front of me, I don't believe it. I can't. I stayed celibate for a year for this woman. I took all her calls—ten, twenty, whatever times a day. I let her treat me like shit and call me names and make me feel like a fucking demon for what I did. So no, I won't accept it. I won't. She's cheating on me? With fucking Tim? I'm sorry, but I just can't accept that. “Stop being so weird. He's your brother. You guys need to spend more time together.”

  “Do we?” I ask as I open my eyes and look my older brother in the face. “Is that so? If that's the case then why did he kick me out of the house on my eighteenth birthday? Why did he ignore my calls and my texts when I asked him for help with my addiction? Why didn't he visit me in the hospital when I almost died?”

  “Michael …” Tim starts and he almost sounds pleading, like maybe he really does want some kind of relationship with me. But, as usual, Vanessa butts in and stands up, crossing her arms over her flat chest.

  “If you're going to be a fucking prick, then why don't you just go? Come back later when you've cooled down a little. I am tired of your shit. You've been nothing but a mopey asshole all damn day.”

  “You know what—” I start and I have to bite back the angry words that threaten to spill from my mouth. I wish I'd done that with Lilith, held myself back like this. God, I wish I'd saved this tiny scrap of self-control for her instead. “Maybe I fucking will? I have to get ready for the show anyway.”

  I snatch a key card off the table on my way out and kick the door open.

  “I'll be back after the concert,” I snap and then slam it shut behind me, storming down the hall, forgoing the elevator for the steps and forcing myself to walk down all thirteen flights. When I hit the lobby though, I stop, my eyes catching on a young blonde woman with a baby in her arms. The kid looks like she's a few months old, the age our child would've been if Vanessa and I had actually had him.

  Fuck.

  I run my fingers through my hair and lean against the wall next to a giant potted fern.

  I can't run out on Vanessa like this; I just can't. I have to try. I owe this to her and really, I am being a fucking dick today.

  Standing up, I pull my phone from my pocket and dial Lilith's number back as I climb the stairs again. With each step I take, my head gets cooler, calmer, and some of that volatile rage bleeds away. When she doesn't answer, I almost leave a message, telling her how sorry I am, how much I like her, how I wish I didn't owe my life to Vanessa.

  Fuck.

  I should've picked Lilith.

  But then, I'm not good enough for her, am I? Some guy that can barely stay faithful for a single year. Besides, I've put Vanessa through enough shit, haven't I?

  I tuck my phone away without leaving the message and continue up the carpeted staircase to the thirteenth floor, down a hallway with gold and white walls, and straight to Tim's door.

  Using the key I grabbed, I let myself into the room.

  And walk right in on my brother's bare ass pumping away at Vanessa.

  She's moaning in wild ecstasy, her gold bikini top pushed down, her bottoms shoved to the side to make room for his cock. His swim trunks sag around his ankles as he fucks her with a passion I didn't even know the man was capable of.

  I drop the key card to the floor.

  “Jesus Christ!” Vanessa screams, covering up her breasts like I'm some goddamn stranger, some asshole that's broken into her room. I think she expects me to go into a rage, hit her, hit Tim, I don't know, because she backs up off the bed and pushes her body into the corner.

  “Really?” I ask, my stomach tight and twisted with betrayal. “Really? This is actually happening right now?”

  “Michael …” Tim starts, fixing his shorts, running his palm over his short dark hair. “We came here together to tell you …”

  Before I even register what I'm doing, I'm flying at him, punching him hard in the face and sending him stumbling back onto the bed while Vanessa screams horrible things at me.

  “You brought this on yourself!” she yells as Tim and I struggle together and I manage to land a second punch to the familiar line of his jaw, a jaw we both share with our dead dad. I wonder what he'd think now, if he could see all of this bullshit? “You cheated on me, you asshole, so I cheated on you!”

  “Yeah?” I ask as I step back and shake out my hand, looking at Vanessa's tan lithe body and long blonde hair. She's never looked as ugly to me as she does in that moment. “So this is all part of some elaborate revenge plot to get back at me?”

  “We're in love,” Tim says calmly, sitting up, his eye and jaw already beginning to swell. Blood drips down the front of his face and stains his pale white chest. “We have been for a long time now.”

  “You didn't think to tell me?” I yell at him instead because Vanessa … man, fuck her. I can't look at her right now.

  “I didn't want to lose you,” Tim snarls, but fuck if I believe that. He never gave a shit about me before, so why should he start caring now? He swipes his palm over his face as I rake my fingers
through my hair. “Michael, I love you.”

  “Stop it, Tim,” Vanessa says, coming around the bed with her bikini fixed back in place. She gets right in my face and shoves me hard. By the grace of god, I manage to control myself and just stand there glaring at her. “He doesn't deserve your sympathy. He doesn't deserve anything. The only person that Michael cares about is fucking Michael.”

  “Sure, yeah, that's why I stayed celibate for a fucking YEAR!” I shout back at her, my breathing coming in these huge, panting gasps. But even as I'm standing here arguing with Vanessa and Tim, all I can think about is how poorly I treated Lilith.

  Lilith.

  I want to fucking see Lilith—now.

  I should've broken up with Vanessa from the start, right at breakfast, like I've been longing to for days. I should've told her to eat shit and then leaned over and kissed Lilith right in front of her, like I've wanted to do since the first second that I saw her lying naked in the Bat Cave. No, before that when Pax pulled her up onstage at the concert in Phoenix. It should've been me that invited her onto the bus that night.

  “Good for you, Mikey,” Vanessa quips, propping a hand on her boney hip. “You kept it in your pants for a whole year. Bravo.” She smiles wickedly at me and Tim stiffens in response.

  “Don't,” he whispers as Vanessa saunters up to me and puts her arms around my neck. I throw her off, but not hard enough to hurt her. No way am I going down that road.

  “The baby,” she says, putting her hands on my chest and leaning up to whisper in my ear, “I'm not sure if it was even yours.”

  The implications of that statement ring sharply inside my skull.

  “You've been fucking him for how long?” I ask, but Vanessa's clearly delivered the information she wanted to deliver, eyes sparkling in triumph.

  “On and off for about two years,” Tim says, looking me in the face with this strange eagerness that I've never seen before, like he's scared I really will walk away forever.

  Good for him.

  He's right.

  That's exactly what I'm going to do.