by M. H. Soars
I’m done talking about Saylor. It’s time for a change of subject. “So, do you plan to go back to school?”
“Yeah, eventually.” He shifts his gaze down and curls both hands around his pint. I’ve known my friend for far too long to be able to detect the subtle change in his body language.
“Cut the bullshit. What’s eating you?”
“Nothing. I like going to college. It’s the people that can be a bit problematic.”
“Ah, I see. You thought you could just go back to being a regular Joe.”
“Yeah. Wishful thinking, I guess. I’ve been out of the limelight for over a year now, but I still get stopped by fans. People still make jokes at my expense. I’m relieved that I took a semester off.”
“Then don’t go back. You have plenty of money. Fuck, join me at Renegades. It will be epic.”
“I have to go back. It’s what my parents always wanted for me, to graduate from a good school, to find a job I loved, to lead a fulfilling life.”
“Okay, I just vomited in my mouth hearing you spill those bullshit Hallmark movie lines. I hate to break it to you, mate, but your folks are dead. Sticking to a path you’re not passionate about just to fulfill their wishes is fucking nuts. Do what makes you happy.”
“You’re an ass.”
“I know.”
We don’t say anything for the next couple of minutes. I’m giving Bas time to mull over my words. I would understand dealing with the harassment at college if a degree was something he truly wanted. Doing it to please people who are long dead is mental. He’s the one who re-initiates the conversation.
“Tell me a bit more about Renegades.”
A-ha. That’s the Bas I know. My mood shifts at once and I tell him everything about the company. Who we’ve lined up to work with the band, our plans to launch their first single, and so on.
“I’m thinking about asking Zawe to help with the band’s video.” I lean back and wait for Sebastian’s reaction with a smirk. Our old choreographer used to give him hell.
His eyes widen before he bursts out laughing. “Oh my God. Please let me be there when Zawe whips Saylor’s ass into shape.”
“You can if you are part of Renegades.”
His smile fades a bit, turning into a small grin. “I need to speak with Liv first. That’s a big decision to make.”
“Sure, mate.”
We are laughing about a stupid joke when I feel a presence looming behind me. Bas glances up and immediately frowns. I turn around and come face to face with Craig Hawthorne, one of the sleaziest gossip reporters I ever had the displeasure of crossing paths with. Last year, after Sebastian’s departure from Boys Future, the arsehole started making insinuations and spreading lies about my friend and me. When he got into my face while I was out clubbing in London, I lost my cool and introduced him to my knuckles. He tried to sue me, but thanks to my family’s connections, the assault charges against me were dismissed and to boot, Craig also lost his job. Needless to say, he hates my guts now.
“My my, look what we have here. A Boys Future reunion, I see,” he says with a smirk and my hands curl into fists.
“Piss off, Hawthorne,” I say.
“When my sources told me you were moving to the US, I couldn’t believe it.”
“Well, believe it. Now run along before I call security.”
Craig narrows his eyes and clenches his jaw.
“Don’t mess with me, boy. You’re far away from your family’s influence, and daddy won’t be able to bail you out of trouble when you screw up again.”
“Jesus, I think I just pissed in my pants. That’s how terrifying you are, Craig.”
Sebastian laughs, earning him a glare from the man.
“Go ahead. Make childish jokes all you want. We’ll see who will be laughing in the end.”
“Say, Craig, did they teach you those cliché villain-esque lines at the shitty school you went to, or were you just born lame?” I say.
The balding, short man turns red and that makes my amusement grow. I wish he would lose his shit in public. Too bad he doesn’t. He turns on his heel and stomps away. Good, my knuckles were itching to connect with his jaw again.
“Do you think Hawthorne will create problems for you?” Bas still staring at Craig’s retreating figure.
“Oh, I’m sure he will try, but he’ll fail again.”
Nine
SAYLOR
We’re warming up for practice at Wreck of the Day’s official headquarters—A.K.A. Tabatha’s parents’ garage—when Remi comes running in, holding a Rolling Stone magazine in her hands. She trips over my purse’s strap on the floor and dives head first into the bean bag in the corner. It would have been comical if weren’t for the stricken look on her face when she flips around.
“Whoa. Where’s the fire?” I help her get up.
She pushes the hair out of her face and shoves the magazine into my hands. “You need to read this.”
Tabatha and Sticks come closer, making a circle around me. “Read what?” I ask.
“I marked the page.”
I find the folded page corner and right in the middle of the magazine, there’s an article on one side and the other is a full page picture of Oliver. I stop breathing for a moment. It hasn’t been that long since Hawaii, but looking at his crooked smile, even the two dimensional version, feels like a sucker punch to my guts.
I force my eyes to peel away from his face and read the article. It’s an interview with him. Honestly, I’m just scanning the words, my brain seems to have gotten frozen as well, until a name pops up on the page—Renegades Productions. I read the phrase twice and then I look up.
“He owns the company?”
“What’s going on? Tabatha pulls the magazine from my hands.
“Oliver Best is the silent partner!” Remi shouts and I wince.
Tabatha mutters a curse and shakes his head. “That’s why the cloak and dagger attitude from Allan. Son of a bitch. We’ve just been duped.”
Sticks’s gaze bounces around our group. “I don’t understand. What’s wrong with this guy? Didn’t he used to be in a boy band? He probably has connections.”
Tabatha crosses her arms in front of her chest and glares in my direction. “I’ll let Saylor answer that.”
“We dated. Briefly.” I don’t want to get into too many details. It was bad enough lying to Remi about why I wasn’t with Oliver anymore. She had been certain we were meant to be together.
“And?” Sticks continues.
“Saylor dumped his ass but the idiot is just crazy enough to come up with a fake production company just so he can wiggle his way back into her life,” Tabatha answers for me.
Remi whips her face toward her. “He wouldn’t do that. Come on. That’s nuts.”
I raise both hands up. “Stop! We’re not going to solve anything by throwing random theories left and right.” I grab my purse from the floor.
“Where are you going?” Remi asks.
“To get answers.”
I’m not angry at Oliver. I’m furious to the point I can’t see straight. But I still manage to drive from Tabatha’s place to his house in Hermosa Beach without causing an accident. He’d better be there because I feel like murdering someone.
I can’t believe he tricked me like that. He knew I wouldn’t have signed with Renegades if I’d known he was behind it. What does he think he will accomplish with that? My eternal gratitude? Me forever eating from the palm of his hand?
Fury is the only thing keeping me from succumbing to the ache in my chest. To work with him, even in a limited capacity, will be agony. He’s everything I never knew I needed. But he can’t ever know that.
I park in front of his house and march up the front steps. I press the doorbell and won’t let it up until someone answers the door. I hear footsteps approaching and I prepare myself to come face to face with the man I can’t forget. Only, it’s not Oliver who answers the door, but a gorgeous brunette wearing nothing but a guy�
��s button down shirt.
I’m frozen, my tongue is thick in my mouth, but my heart is thundering inside my ribcage.
“What the bloody hell are you doing?” The girl glares at me. She can’t be older than eighteen.
I also notice the British accent. I knew Oliver had gone back home after Hawaii, Liv told me. So it seems he brought someone back with him. My stomach bottoms out and I think I’m going to be sick. I curl my hands into fists and dig my nails into the softness of my palms. The pain doesn’t do anything to help. On the contrary, dark spots appear in my line of vision and I sway on the spot. No. I cannot have a fainting episode now, not in front of Oliver’s latest conquest.
“Shit. Are you going to throw up?” She looks over her shoulder. “Oliver!”
I close my eyes and place the heel of my hand against my forehead, not that it does any good. Before I open them again, a strong arm wraps around my shoulder and his sexy voice reaches my ear. “Saylor, sugar. Are you okay?”
I want to push him away but I have no strength left. I feel drained and his body flush against mine is not helping one bit. I look up and my gaze connects with his beautiful eyes. I had forgotten the impact they have on me. So, so dangerous.
Oliver seems concerned and I find myself melting into his embrace, until I remember the half naked woman still staring at us. My spine goes taut and I take a wobbly step to the side.
“I’m fine. I need to speak to you.”
I walk in without being invited, shoving the brunette out of my way. She lets out a yell of complaint but I don’t look back as I walk up the stairs, holding the rail tight to avoid falling flat on my face. That would ruin my performance. Even though I’m in shambles inside, I can’t let them see it.
I don’t know what I expected to find in Oliver’s living room, but it’s definitely not start-up central. The couch, chairs, and coffee table are gone and have been replaced by office furniture. There’s a massive whiteboard hanging from the wall where a modern painting used to be. The only thing remaining from before is the flat TV screen.
What catches my attention is the big sign with Renegades Productions logo propped up against the wall. I’m angry all over again. I pivot on the spot when I feel them behind me.
“I take it you’ve read the article,” Oliver says.
“Yes, asshole. That was a low move, even for you.”
The girl chuckles as she walks to the open kitchen so I turn my ire on her. “What are you laughing at? Shouldn’t you be on your merry way out the door or are you waiting for payment?”
Oliver’s eyebrows shoot to the heavens, before a grin appears on his stupid face. The girl looks at me like I’ve lost my mind, then she turns to Oliver. “She has no idea who I am, does she?”
The infuriating man has the audacity to shrug. “Nope. Never saw a reason to mention you to her.”
“Ouch. That hurt, bro.” She puts a hand over her heart, faking being upset.
“Okay, what the hell is going on here?” I put my hands on my hips. It seems I’m the only one not in on the joke and I hate the feeling.
The pretty brunette walks over to me and extends her hand. “Hello, I’m Charlotte Best, Oliver’s sister. Nice to meet you, Saylor.”
My jaw drops and I turn to Oliver, ignoring Charlotte’s hand. “You have a sister and it never occurred to you to tell me?”
“I thought you knew.”
I throw my hands up in the air. “Why would I know that?”
“Because Ollie is a self-absorbed prick and he thinks everyone is obsessed with him,” Charlotte answers before pulling up a chair to sit down.
“Bugger off, Charlotte. Go put some clothes on. Allan will be here any minute,” Oliver says without taking his eyes off of me.
“Fine. I’ll leave you two love birds alone.”
She jumps off the chair and disappears down the hallway, leaving me alone with Oliver. Now I wish she would come back because I don’t know how to act around him. My heart is screaming at me to jump into his arms while my head is saying no. That’s an unfair battle with the way he’s staring at me like he wants to devour me. How can my brain remain in control? Shit, it must remain in control. Besides, I’m supposed to be furious at him, not get all hot and bothered.
“Are you feeling better? Would you like to sit down?” he asks.
“Cut the crap, Oliver. Why did you sign Wreck of the Day? Is this some kind of sick joke or is it punishment because I left you?”
He raises his hands up. “Whoa. Slow down. I signed Wreck of the Day because you guys are good. Please don’t mix things up here. This is a strictly professional relationship.”
I cross my arms in front of my chest and narrow my eyes. “Right. And you want me to believe that. Then why did you keep your identity a secret until we signed the contract?”
“Would you have signed it if you knew I was involved?” He raises an eyebrow.
“Hell no.”
“You have your answer.”
“That’s manipulation and such a dick move.”
Oliver walks to the wet bar—surprise, surprise it’s still there—and pours himself a drink.
“I don’t know why you’re so upset. You should be thankful I don’t hold grudges. You did leave me alone in that hotel room without so much as a note of goodbye. Who’s the dick now?” He turns to me and smiles, only there is no amusement in his eyes. He’s hurt. Shit, I did that.
“I’m sorry.”
He clenches his jaw before draining his drink. “No worries, luv. I’m resilient. I’ll survive.”
He moves closer and I fight the urge to run away. He doesn’t invade my space as I expected he would. Instead, he offers me his hand. “Let’s let bygones be bygones, shall we?”
I stare at his hand—a hand that has caressed every part of my body and gave me more orgasms than I can keep count of—for far too long before I shake it. The contact only lasts a split second before he lets go and walks to a desk, taking a seat behind it. His face is cold, all business like. I should be happy Oliver doesn’t have ulterior motives here, that all he wants is a business relationship with me, but my heart doesn’t want to accept that. It cracks open, it bleeds, it dies.
“Are you working on any new songs?”
“Yes.” My reply comes out as a croak and I have to clear my throat before continuing. “A few.”
“Good. And do you still practice in Tabatha’s garage?”
“Yes.”
Oliver nods and glances at his computer. “I would like you to move your practices here.”
“What?”
“I bought this big ass house with the intent to make it the Renegades headquarters. I turned the basement into a kickass music studio. It has everything you will need, including top of the line instruments.”
I put my hands on my hips. “We have instruments already.”
“I know, but I think you will like your new ones.” He doesn’t smile but there’s a twinkle in his eyes that had been missing before.
“I have to talk with the girls.”
“Sure thing. I can show it to you now if you’d like.”
The idea of going down to a basement alone with Oliver terrifies me, so I shake my head. “Another time. I have to get back to Littleton.”
“So, are we cool?”
No. We’re the opposite of cool. But I can’t say that. I should be glad Oliver has accepted what we had has ended even if a huge part of me is disappointed he has given up so easily.
“Yes, of course.”
OLIVER
I wait until Saylor leaves to grab the bottle of whiskey and pour myself another generous dose. I’m already on my third glass when Charlotte waltzes back into the living room.
“Wow. That was intense.”
“Shut up, Char.”
“I hope all those drinks you’re inhaling are because you are celebrating.”
“Celebrating what?”
“Oh, brother mine. Saylor is totally into you. She almost bit my head
off because she thought I was one of your conquests.”
“Her little act of jealousy means nothing.”
Charlotte comes closer and swats the back of my head.
“Ouch! What the fuck was that for?”
“You are Oliver fucking Best. Stop acting like the Deathly Hallows Part One Ron.”
I glower at her, but Charlotte just laughs. “I gotta say. It’s freaking awesome to see you so whipped.”
“I’m glad I amuse you.”
“So, what’s your master plan? Since you were able to keep your cool and not attack the woman, I assume you’re going to take my advice.”
“Oh, to play the aloof, hard to get guy? It’s all so childish.” I fill my glass again.
“Yes, it’s childish indeed. You could just sit down and talk like adults. What’s keeping you from asking Saylor why she left you without an explanation after the amazing week you spent in Hawaii?”
I don’t miss the sarcastic tone in Charlotte’s voice and I flip her off. She rolls her eyes.
“Because she’ll give me a bullshit excuse. She’s hiding something and the only way to find out is by keeping her close.”
“You know you sound completely mental, right?”
“Wait until you fall in love, dear sister.”
“Nope. I’ll pass.”
I take another sip of my drink. “I said the same thing not too long ago.”
Ten
SAYLOR
“What’s up with you, Blue? You’re quieter than normal,” Tabatha asks as we wait in a big boardroom in the five-star hotel Oliver stayed at before. We’re finally meeting with the rest of Renegades Productions team, but for some reason, he didn’t want to meet at his house.
“Nothing, I just want to get this meeting over with.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth Allan comes in, followed by a man and a woman we’ve never met before. No sign of Oliver. My heart clenches as a myriad of emotions crashes inside. I feel like a stupid high school kid, in love with the unattainable popular jock. Only I’m the one who threw my chance at love away. Getting over him feels like an impossible task now.