Take Me for Granted

by K. A. Linde

  Shelby snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Earth to Aribel. Was Grant really that good?”

  “What?” I asked in a daze.

  “We were talking, and you were off in la-la land,” Gabi said.

  “Oh my God, would you please just tell us that you slept with him?” Cheyenne pleaded. “I mean, we all assume, especially with the way you’re walking like you’ve been riding a horse all day—i.e., Grant’s dick. Plus, you never came back last night!”

  “I’m just going to completely ignore the horse reference,” I said with a shake of my head, “but Grant and I did sleep together.”

  I would have thought that I’d just won a million dollars in the lottery with the enthusiasm from my roommates. In the society I came from, virginity was lauded and encouraged. I wasn’t especially religious, but I’d attended church with my parents. Even if I had never purposely avoided sex for religious reasons, holding on to my virtue was still ingrained in me in a way. Getting praised for having sex was such a bizarre thing to me.

  “I can’t believe it took you guys this long, but I’m so happy for you,” Cheyenne said. “Was it amazing? Is he huge? Was it rough? Did you orgasm like ten times? Did he make you come on command? You know that actually works.”

  “What are you talking about? It was my first time! I think he would have killed me if he’d been rough or whatever else you were saying,” I said, exasperated.

  “Yeah, but…was he, like, gentle then? Did you go back to back? I bet he’s been dying for this. I bet he went again right away.”

  My face flushed. I did not want to talk about this. Did these things actually happen? I thought I was pushing it by having sex again the next afternoon!

  “Cheyenne, you’re freaking her out again,” Shelby said.

  “I’m not freaked out!”

  “Your face is super red,” Gabi murmured. She flipped a strand of hair out of her face and smiled at me.

  Thanks for pointing out the obvious.

  “It could be because I’m getting drilled on my sex life!”

  “That’s not the only thing that’s drilling you,” Cheyenne said with a giggle.

  I laughed along with my friends. What else could I do? I’d walked right into that one.

  “So…seriously,” Shelby said, glaring at Cheyenne who had opened her mouth to say something that would likely be crude, “worth the wait?”

  My mind wandered off to the feel of Grant’s arms around me, his mouth against mine, him sliding in and out of me. It had been painful, uncomfortable, and even a little awkward, but it had also been incredible, emotional, overwhelming, and all-consuming.

  “Totally worth the wait.”

  After my shower, the girls insisted that I wear something nice for the ContraBand show, so I decided on a V-cut blue sweater tucked into a high-waisted Aztec-print skirt with my knee-high black riding boots. I had plans to meet with Grant ahead of time, but the girls decided to walk down to the lodge with me.

  Grant had given me vague directions on how to get backstage, so I waved good-bye to my friends and walked around to the back of the building. There was a side entrance with a guy standing nearby, absentmindedly texting on his phone. I wasn’t sure if I should check in with him or not. Grant hadn’t mentioned it. I decided to throw caution to the wind and just pretend like I was supposed to be here. I was sure there were going to be other girls backstage. As little as I wanted to look like some groupie whore, it would probably be easier than explaining myself.

  The guy barely glanced up at me as he muttered under his breath, “Who are you here with?”

  “ContraBand,” I said stiffly.

  “Okay,” he said with a shrug.

  Top-notch security. Seriously, top-notch.

  I walked through the employee-only door to backstage. Grant had been right. This was nothing like being backstage at The League. The room was massive with enough space for a medium-sized theater production. Band equipment was everywhere from drum sets being assembled to keyboards being wheeled into position to several thousand-dollar guitars lying haphazardly across couches. I knew Grant would never treat his baby so carelessly.

  Amidst all the chaos of bands, groupies, and staff, I was somehow supposed to find Grant. My eyes roamed the room, but there were simply too many people for me to pick him out. I shot off a text asking him where he was and then started to wander around the room.

  I’d made it halfway when I spotted Miller and McAvoy off in a corner. McAvoy was in a short-sleeved shirt showing off the intricate tattoos that ran up his arm and across his chest. He was flipping his drumstick in one hand and smoking. Miller, as usual, was dressed nicer in a clean polo with his brown hair pushed off his face.

  “Hey, guys. Have you seen Grant?” I asked as I approached.

  They both turned to look at me.

  “We thought he was with you,” Miller said.

  “Nope. I left a while ago, and he said he’d meet me here. I haven’t heard from him.”

  “Strange,” McAvoy said, looking surprisingly with it today.

  “Yeah, he’s supposed to be here already. Vin…well, we expected him to be late but not Grant.”

  “Try giving him a ring,” I told them. “I’m going to do another sweep, and I’ll meet you back over here.”

  I was lost in thought about Grant being late for the band’s assigned meeting time. He wasn’t a forgetful person. What had held him up?

  As these thoughts swirled in my head, a hand reached out to stop me. I turned around and shook the guy off of me.

  The last thing I would consider myself was someone who got muddled by a pretty face. I’d held Grant off long enough after all. This guy was rough around the edges with a soul-searching look that made want to do what he asked. He…was beautiful. Straight-out-of-a-magazine, model-worthy beautiful. One look in his green eyes told me he knew it, too. Tall, trim but muscular, perfect skin—probably better skin than me—with flawless tousled hair and full lips. A guy like this made me feel flat and dull.

  At least I still had my charming personality.

  “Can I help you?” I snapped.

  “I think you can.” His eyes shifted to my chest.

  I’d worn a low-cut top for Grant, and I suddenly felt exposed. “I really don’t think so.”

  I started to walk away, and he cut me off. “You are truly striking with the most incredible lips.”

  “Is this a walking Little Red Riding Hood joke?”

  That startled him. “No joke. You’re beautiful. Did you want to come meet the rest of my band? I’m certain you’ve heard of us.”

  Doubtful. “Nope. Just looking for my boyfriend.”

  “Perhaps he shouldn’t have left you unattended.”

  “What is this? The seventeenth century?”

  The guy laughed again and then stuck out his hand. “I’m Donovan Jenkins. I sing lead in The Drift.”

  Oh. Well, damn. I actually did know who they were. Worse yet, I actually liked their latest single.

  “Ah…so you have heard of us.”

  “I think everyone has heard of you. As nice as it is to meet you, I am really just looking for my boyfriend, Grant McDermott.”

  “Oh, Grant?” Donovan asked. “Yeah, he’s cool. He’s hanging out with us.”

  “What?” I asked, surprised.

  “Yeah. Come with me,” Donovan said, slinging an arm across my shoulders.

  I shrugged him off again but followed. What would Grant be doing with The Drift?

  We rounded a corner, and then Donovan opened a door to a private room. It was like walking into a crowded nightclub. Music was blasting, booze was everywhere, and smoke coated the air, making it nearly impossible to see in the dim lighting. A few girls were dancing on the center table while others were draped across every available space in the room, and a couple was making out in the back corner. I was pretty sure I saw someone snorting a line of coke on the bar.

  I coughed to clear the smoke from my lungs, and Donovan
closed the door behind me. He draped his arm across my shoulders again, but there wasn’t enough room to wiggle away, and he was already walking us away from the door. I hoped this wasn’t some stunt, and he actually knew Grant, or I was going to be pissed.

  Donovan easily maneuvered me through the crowd. Everyone knew him, and people seemed to part like the Red Sea in his wake.

  Then, he stopped and whispered in my ear, “That your boy?”

  There was Grant—sitting on a couch, drinking whiskey straight out of the bottle, a cigarette hanging between his lips, chatting and laughing with two guys sitting across from him. His arms were resting across the back of the couch, and two girls were cozied up beside him.

  One of them I even recognized. Kristin. What the fuck?

  “Hey, Grant!”

  Disoriented in the smoke-filled room, I glanced up to try to see who had called my name. Jesus fuck, the room is fucking spinning. How much of this did I drink? I glanced at the bottle and saw it was more than half gone. I couldn’t have killed that all by myself.

  I slammed the bottle back down on the table, pulled a drag on my cigarette, and then stubbed it out in the ashtray. A girl pulled on my arm, but I shrugged her off and stood. Then, I caught sight of who had spoken—Donovan.

  And he had his arm around my girl.

  Then, I got a glimpse of Ari. Oh fuck! She looked smoking hot. She was wearing a short fucking skirt that hugged her body, her tits were on full display, and she had on sexy black boots that I wouldn’t mind her just leaving on as I fucked her. Fuck, I’d been inside that.

  Why the fuck is Donovan touching my girl?

  My anger fueled me forward, and I managed to surge toward them without stumbling. “What the fuck is this?” I growled.

  Ari’s eyes smoldered. I knew what that look meant. Even in my haze, I knew that the girl I’d fallen for, the one who had drugged me and then laughed in my face at the suggestion of ever seeing me again, was about to rear her head. My mouthy little thing looked about two seconds away from punching me in the face. Instead of infuriating me, it only fucking turned me on. Is there a dark corner around here?

  “Hey, man. I found your girlfriend,” Donovan said the word like he didn’t understand what it meant. And the way his hand slid down her arm to her waist made it seem like he might actually not believe in the word.

  I hadn’t believed in that word before Ari. And if he didn’t back the fuck off, I was going to lay his ass on the floor. I didn’t give a shit that his loyal and dedicated fans and bandmates surrounded me. I was going to knock his ass into tomorrow. But I didn’t get a chance because Ari was already squirming away from him.

  “Cut it out,” she said, slapping at his hand. “I’m not a groupie. Go grope someone else.”

  I grabbed her wrist and pulled her into my chest. “Yeah, she’s not a fucking groupie. You lay one more hand on her, and I’ll fucking destroy you.”

  The people around us were getting wind of what was happening, and the noise was dying out.

  Ari smacked me on the arm. “You don’t touch me either!”

  “Princess…”

  “Don’t even start that shit with me,” she growled.

  “You’ve got a live one, McDermott,” Donovan said.

  Ari shot him a death glare, but her anger was really directed at me. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

  “Having a good time,” I offered lightly.

  Apparently, that had been the wrong answer.

  “Having a good time? Because it’s a great time to get wasted and high with a bunch of girls who have probably fucked every guy in the room.”

  “Babe, it’s normal to be jealous,” Donovan said with laughter in his voice. “This is just the life.”

  “Why don’t you stay out of this?” she asked. She turned back to me. “You left Miller and McAvoy out there without a word right before your set. You’re trashed. How are you supposed to perform?”

  I just shook my head. She didn’t need to be laying this shit on me right now. “I’ve fucking performed blitzed out of my mind before.”

  “You’re acting like an idiot. You’re not this person. These guys are feeding into your personality, and you’re just sitting idly by and letting it happen.”

  “I’m just having a good time, Princess.”

  I was starting to get irritated. I wasn’t a child. She didn’t need to lecture me. Why shouldn’t I get to hang out with another band? Another very successful band? I wasn’t ditching my boys. I wasn’t ditching her. I was just meeting new people and getting drunk.

  “Yeah,” Donovan said. He was practically giddy. “Why don’t you have a good time with us, too?”

  He reached for her again, like she was a toy he wanted to play with.

  Ari deflected his advance. “Do I look like I’m here for your amusement, pretty boy?”

  “You’re pretty amusing. Everyone else thinks so.”

  Ari glanced around, and it seemed to dawn on her that we had an audience. Her cheeks colored. I could see her withdraw from the world around her. She hated crowds, and she hated being noticed. I saw the same panic in her eyes now that I had seen the time we’d been on the quad when she’d flipped her shit on me.

  “Whatever. Have your fun then,” she said.

  She was silently pleading with me, but I was pissed, too. Who does she think she is to come in here and bitch me out in front of all these people?

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “All right.”

  She shook her head at me in disbelief and then turned and started walking out of the room. Donovan started walking after her, but Hollis got in his way at the exit. Good. I wouldn’t have to go beat the shit out of him. I kind of liked the guy. But he couldn’t touch Ari.

  At her exit, everyone started talking again, and the room quickly returned back to its earlier state of debauchery. My thoughts were swirling in my head, telling me that I should fucking go after her. I was an idiot. I should make this right. She was too good for me. I was just a drunk loser who had managed to win a girl I didn’t deserve. If I wanted to keep her, I needed to go—right now.

  But I remained rooted to my spot. I wasn’t going to go after her. She had embarrassed both of us. They weren’t just some band. They were also my future colleagues. These were people I needed to know if I wanted to get picked up. Having a girlfriend chastise me in front of everyone wasn’t exactly a way to endear myself to them.

  I’m not going to cry. I’m not going to cry. I’m not going to cry.

  Tears welled in my eyes, and I took several healing breaths to try to keep them at bay. I couldn’t believe what had just happened. I couldn’t believe I’d just seen Grant in that state. I couldn’t believe how that argument had just gone down. I couldn’t fucking believe that all he had said was that he was having a good time.

  God, he’s being so careless. It wasn’t just the girls. Though, the whole Kristin thing was irritating. Is that what all that shit had been about in class? Is she interested in Grant? Ugh, I didn’t want to think about it.

  Either way, while the girls had irritated me, I didn’t actually think he would do anything. He’d had his chance for months, and he’d said that he hadn’t. He could have been lying, but I didn’t want to believe that.

  The truth of the matter was that I was more worried about him throwing away everything he’d worked for. It had been clear he thought The Drift could help them get signed. But he obviously hadn’t thought about the fact that none of the other guys had gotten an invite to the private party. To me, that meant they wanted him, not the band, and that was something he absolutely would not agree to. Would he agree to that if he were obliterated like he was?

  No. No way.

  Gah! Even when I was pissed at him, I was more concerned for his well-being than anything. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Why should I bother being concerned about his future when he isn’t?

  Then, I thought back to the way he had treated me. One second, he had manhandled me and sa
id he was going to destroy Donovan if he touched me, and the next second, he hadn’t said a damn word when I was being humiliated. After what had happened last night and this afternoon, I just couldn’t fathom what the fuck his problem was.

  I found Miller and McAvoy almost as soon as I’d exited the private room. They looked at me and then at each other with worry between their eyebrows. I hadn’t hung out with them all that much, but I must have looked like a wreck to get that much concern from them.

  “What happened?” Miller asked.

  I swept my hands under my eyes and shook my head. I never got like this. I’d been broken up with countless times, and I had never shed a tear. Grant and I were just arguing, and I was crying.

  To my surprise, it was McAvoy who comforted me. “Grant’s kind of an ass. He probably didn’t mean whatever he said.”

  “That’s comforting,” I said sarcastically.

  “We’ve known him for a long time. He doesn’t exactly have a way with words.”

  They were probably right, but I just wanted to walk back into the room and punch Grant in the face. When I could speak without a shuddering breath, I finally told them. “He’s with The Drift.”

  “What?” Miller gasped.

  McAvoy looked just as shocked.

  “I don’t have any idea what he’s doing, but he’s all fucked-up.”

  “Christ! And we have to go on soon,” Miller said.

  “No Grant and no Vin,” McAvoy said, looking at Miller accusingly. “This is going to be a great show.”

  “Vin will fucking be here,” Miller grumbled.

  “I’m just going to go back inside and hang out with my friends. Grant was going to show me around backstage, but obviously, that isn’t happening.”

  “Do we need to go get Grant?” Miller asked.

  I shrugged. Honestly, I didn’t know. Grant was pissed, but I didn’t know what that meant. I couldn’t imagine him not playing the show. Music was his passion. It had gotten him through much worse times than this. I didn’t care how fucked-up he was. He would never ditch a show.