Daisies & Devin

by Kelsey Kingsley

  “She wasn’t kidding about the ride thing,” Dev said, his voice floating on suppressed laughter, and I pushed away from him, wiping furiously at my eyes.

  “You’re all jerks,” I sniffled, wrapping my arms around myself.

  “Aw, come on, KJ. I’m not laughing at you,” he said, reaching out to me. “Nobody’s laughing at you, right?” He glanced behind him, and Sebastian and Ty nodded their confirmation of his claims, but Robbie just smirked.

  “Oh, I’m laughing at you,” he said. “Gotta grow a pair, kiddo. Stop being such a little bitch.”

  “Go fuck yourself, Robbie,” I shot at him. “Goddammit, please. Go fuck yourself.”

  He narrowed his eyes, the challenge of his anger evident in those little slits of green, but the smile hadn’t faded. “Just tell me where to shoot my load, Princess. I’ll pull my dick—”

  “Jesus Christ,” Devin groaned and thrust a hand out to him. “Robbie. Shut the hell up. Now isn’t the time.” Then, he turned back to me and said, “Come on. I think we should go grab you a drink and calm down.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Richard said with a nod, and Devin led me away from the group, giving us time alone.

  When we were out of sight and earshot, I whirled around to look up at him. “I hate him, Devin.”

  “You’re just upset, baby. Calm down. I’m sorry about that back there. We shouldn’t—"

  I shook my head. “No! I hate the way he talks to me, I hate the way he clings to you, I hate that you don’t do a fucking thing about him, I—”

  He narrowed his eyes. “What exactly would you want me to do about him?”

  “Defend me! Fire him! God, Devin, I don’t care what you do, as long as you’d do something.”

  With a sigh, Devin pulled the baseball hat off and ran a hand through his sweat-matted hair. I had to drop my gaze to the ground. It was sexy, but every time I caught sight of the trendy undercut style, I was reminded of how much they were changing him. Every little thing about him, and I felt on edge, waiting to see what would morph next. What would soon become unrecognizable to me and wondering how long it would be before I could no longer recognize him.

  “Kylie, I have no say in what happens to him,” he said, keeping his tone even and patient.

  “You don’t have a say in a lot of things,” I said in a hushed voice, crossing my arms over my chest. “It worries me, Devin. It really does.”

  “I know it seems that way, but I’m telling you, there’s nothing to be worried about,” he insisted.

  I sniffed, pinching my lips between my teeth. I was running out of things to say. Running out of ways to tell him how worried I was. How much Robbie’s presence concerned me.

  “Come on, you want something to drink?” he offered, reaching an arm out to me.

  I accepted his touch, moving myself against him, because that was better than fighting. I nodded against his chest, and he kissed the top of my hair.

  We walked toward a kiosk serving bottles of water and soft drinks, and he ordered two overpriced bottles. Once upon a time, Devin would’ve scoffed at the price of bottled water. He would have insisted we get those purifying bottles to refill time and time again, to save money. But he knew as well as me that those things were changing, that money was less of an issue now and if things continued on this path, they would never be an issue again. Financial stability seemed amazing, but at what cost?

  He handed over a ten-dollar bill without so much as batting a lash, and he passed me a bottle.

  “Hey!” the cashier said before we could walk away. He pointed at one of Devin’s tattoos, a half-sleeve of skulls and daisies on his bicep. “You’re Devin O’Leary, right?”

  It was his first time being recognized outside of a concert venue and his Adam’s apple bobbed. His eyes glanced down at me, widened with surprise and uncertainty and he looked back to the kid behind the counter, nodding.

  “This is so cool, man! I just saw you play last night! Your Van Halen cover was sick.”

  “Thanks. Glad you could come to the show,” Devin said, putting on his best grin and extending his free hand over the counter. “Nice to meet you …” He tipped his head with question and waited.

  “Tommy,” the kid offered with a bewildered stare. “Could I get your autograph?”

  “Absolutely,” and Dev looked to me, and with a smile, I pulled a Sharpie out of my bag. Tommy supplied a Busch Gardens map for Devin to sign and with a quick snap of his iPhone, he took his selfie, and we were on our way again.

  Finding a bench, we sat down to sip at our bottles of water and Devin shook his head, squinting up at the sun.

  “Shit,” he said, his breath unsteady. “That was crazy.”

  He was shaken up, shocked by being recognized for the first time, and I gripped his arm, nodding. “Yeah, it was.”

  “Kind of cool though, right?” He offered a weak half-smile, and I smiled back.

  “Yeah,” I agreed, biting my lip.

  “But …” He exhaled with puffed cheeks. “Still, fucking crazy.”

  It was only one kid, but I knew that where there was one fan, there would be others. More recognition, more autographs. Less time spent outside without an entourage of security, if it came to that, and it had only been months since I even learned of Richard’s existence.

  Sometimes things happen rapidly. Our relationship—that was quick, but there was nothing sudden about our feelings. It was easy to adjust, easy to embrace.

  But this? This was wildfire and I was standing on the sidelines, watching his world go up in flames.

  ♪

  Devin’s tongue slid over the length of my spine and he bit my neck, sinking his teeth into my agitated skin, after over an hour of headboard-pounding lovemaking. He wrapped his arms around my waist, sighing into the crook of my neck as he rolled us over to spoon on the cloud of blankets and billowy sheets.

  “Fuck,” he sighed into my hair. “I love you, KJ.”

  I smiled, blissful in our private moments away from the entourage. “I love you too.”

  “You ever think about how fucking crazy it is that we’ve only been together for six months?”

  I intertwined my fingers with his callused hands, and I grinned. “It feels like so much longer than that.”

  He touched my shoulder with a series of lazy kisses. “Like forever,” he murmured and then he stopped, unwrapping himself from my body and bounding from the bed, naked and beautiful, to grab his notebook from the case of his new guitar.

  “Writing another song about me?” I smiled, already missing his touch and smell.

  “You know it,” he said absentmindedly, flipping to a fresh page.

  “Well, Maestro, while you do that, I’m going to grab some ice,” I said, climbing from the bed and grabbing a robe from the back of the couch.

  “Hmm … huh?” He looked up from his scribbling and glanced at me as I tied the sash around my waist. “I can just call room service,” he offered, gesturing toward the phone. He looked at me as though I had sprouted a twin from my chest.

  “Babe, do you remember what it was like to be a normal person?” I asked, only half-joking as I grabbed the ice bucket. “I think I can manage to walk down the hall to the ice machine.”

  “It has nothing to do with being a normal person,” he reasoned. “It’s about safety, and you’re walking out there in nothing but a robe? Alone?”

  “Dev, it’s fine. I can handle myself,” I said, as I grabbed my card key. I crossed the floor to plant a kiss on his chest. “I’ll be right back. Send the cavalry if I haven’t returned in five minutes.”

  He harrumphed as I headed to the door. “Wait,” he called, and got up to grab my phone. He handed it to me. “At least take that.” He kissed the top of my head, and I rolled my eyes, stuffing the phone into my pocket, as I entered the hallway and left my paranoid boyfriend.

  The monotonous carpet of greyscale geometrics, paved my way down the long hallway of identical doors. It reminded me of The Sh
ining, which immediately brought to mind the book my dad had been reading before he died. I swallowed, realizing it’d been a while since I thought of him. Maybe it was all the distractions, I thought as I walked the length of the hall. Maybe I was too focused on keeping Devin levelheaded during a time when it would be so easy for him to lose himself.

  Maybe I was too busy trying to save him, to remember that once upon a time I had failed the other man I loved.

  Shaking away the torments of my sudden reprieve, I entered the small sitting area at the end of the hallway and quickly turned toward the ice machine, not bothering to notice that I wasn’t alone.

  As the machine groaned awake and began to dispense ice into the bucket, I jumped at the sound of a throat clearing. I spun around, clutching at the sides of my robe and saw Robbie sitting there, bottle of vodka in his hand.

  “Firecracker,” he said, holding the bottle up. “Care to join me?”

  I shook my head, throwing him a timid smile. “No, I’m good, thanks.”

  He stood up, and I touched my fingers to the bucket. Ready to grab it and hit him with it, if he dared to try anything. I wasn’t scared, but I wouldn’t put anything past him and I didn’t like that feeling of vulnerability. I calculated how fast I could run back to the room. How fast I could get the card key out of my pocket to open the door.

  Approaching me, he smiled. “Been keeping our golden boy occupied, huh?”

  The comment made my skin crawl and the only thing I could think to say was, “He’s not your anything.”

  “Actually,” he said, holding up a finger, “he’s my boss, if we’re being technical here.”

  He planted his opposite hand against the wall behind my head as that one finger traced the line of my hair. I let my eyes close, feeling his hot, alcohol-tainted breath against my face and my pulse quickened. Robbie only laughed. “What do you think I’m gonna do to you, huh?”

  “I don’t know,” I replied honestly.

  “Christ, Firecracker … open your fucking eyes.”

  I slowly peeled my eyelids back, staring up at his face, and he smirked.

  “I’m not gonna hurt you. Fuck, I want to, believe me … I’d love to see what you got on underneath that robe, pull your hair and drive my dick right into that pretty, smart-talking mouth of yours. Teach you a fucking lesson. But,” he shook his head, twisting his lips, “nah. O’Leary’s my friend, and friends don’t fuck each other’s women. Not unless they have permission. That’s a rule.” And still, his hand smoothed over my hair.

  “Oh, well, thank God for that,” I retorted bitterly, my voice quivering as I shook his hand away.

  “See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about, Princess. That fucking mouth. If Devin was any kind of man, he’d be showing you who’s boss until you learned to keep it shut. That’s what I’d do.”

  “Well, good thing Devin’s not you,” I spat at him, still trapped.

  Robbie tipped his head, and he nodded. “Yeah, you know, you’re right. He’s bigger. Powerful. If I were him, I’d be beating your ass into next week. But …” He shrugged, taking a step back. “He’s a pussy. He’s my friend, but I’m not afraid to call it like I see it. He’s going to let you ruin him. I’ve seen it happen before.”

  In a huff, and with an overwhelming need to get the fuck away from him, I grabbed the full bucket of ice and held it to me. As I began to leave, his comment struck a chord and I turned around. “What do you mean by that?”

  He leaned over, grabbed his bottle of booze and tipped it back. He guzzled the fucking thing, and I couldn’t begin to fathom what his liver must look like.

  “You don’t let him have any fun,” he said simply, gesturing the bottle toward me. “He’s a motherfucking rock god, Firecracker. He’s a shooting star, and you think you see him for what he is, but oh, Princess, you don’t. I knew it the first time I heard that fucking song of his. Brilliant tune, the guy’s a genius, but I knew there was a woman behind those lyrics. I knew he had built his motherfucking world around her, and when I first met you, I saw you for exactly what you are.”

  My brows drew together and I willed myself not to cry as I asked, “And what’s that?”

  He snorted, grinning his Cheshire Cat smile. “You, Princess, will be the muse that lets that star burn out.’

  I stood there, frozen and blinking, hugging that bucket of ice to my chest. “That’s not true.”

  Another swill, and his smile returned. “Oh, really? Then, tell me why you have something to say about everything. ‘Devin, don’t do this. Devin, don’t do that,’” he mocked, mimicking a flapping mouth with his hand. “If he knew what was good for him, he’d kick your ass to the curb and get himself a new pussy to fuck every night. A new muse to write his songs about. Fresh inspiration. He could, you know—easily. I mean, hell, I’m as straight as an arrow and I’d fuck him if I had the chance. But, oh well. He’ll be the tragedy that welcomes love to kill him. Que sera, sera. But,” he scoffed, raising the bottle to me once again, “what a motherfucking waste.”

  And with that, he dismissed me, dropping down into his chair to drink the night away. The tears burned the back of my eyes, pricking and irritating, as I spun on my heel and walked briskly down the hallway. I reached the room just as Devin was stepping into the hall, ready to come and rescue me instead of writing his songs, and Robbie’s words cycloned through my brain. I pushed past him into the room, dropping the ice bucket on a table near the door and rushed into the bathroom.

  “Kylie?” Devin asked at the doorway, as I ran a bath. “Are you okay?”

  “Yep,” I gasped, nodding.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I sniffed, damning my nose for giving me away. “Nothing.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Kylie, I’m not an idiot. You’re crying, and I want to know what happened.”

  “You’re a star, and I’m going to let you die,” I said feebly, loosely repeating Robbie’s words as the tub filled with steaming water.

  “What? Did someone say that?”

  “Who do you think?”

  “Robbie?” He crossed his arms over his chest.

  “No, it was Sebastian,” I shot at him sarcastically.

  He hung his head, tipping his chin to his chest. “Kylie, what did he say to you this time?”

  “Oh, who the fuck cares, Devin.”

  “Kylie,” he said, somehow both stern and soft. “I care.”

  I shook my head, watching the water rush from the faucet. “What does it even matter? I’m leaving in a couple days, and you can do whatever the fuck it is you want to do with him, without me sucking all the fun out of everything. You can go ahead and find yourself a new muse to fuck every night, and—” I clapped a hand over my mouth, unable to believe I had actually said the words. My nose sniffled again, my throat clogged, and I hoped I wouldn’t break down.

  “Did he seriously say that?” His voice lowered, scraping against the walls of his throat. “Did he imply I don’t want you here? Did he say I wanted to,” he shook his head, “fuck other women?”

  I lowered my hand. “He told me I’m holding you back from being the rock star you could be and that if I were his bitch, he’d beat my ass every night until I learned to shut my smart mouth,” I reiterated, the words choking me as I spit them out one by one. Devin’s fist hit the bathroom door before he turned and left the room. “Devin?”

  I shut the water off and ran after him, as he threw the room’s door open and stormed his way down the hallway to the ice machine. I followed closely at his heels, begging him to not do anything, but my pleas were going unheard.

  Ty was just coming from the elevator when we entered the sitting area, and Robbie was nowhere to be seen.

  “Where the fuck is he?” Devin demanded, towering over Ty.

  Ty’s hands were held up, palms out. “Whoa, man, who?”

  “Who the fuck do you think?” he growled, and Ty groaned, nodding.

  “Let me guess … I don’t know, dude. Maybe in h
is room? I just got up here.”

  Devin didn’t bother replying. He turned, gently nudging me out of his way, to stalk down the hall toward the room across the hall from ours. Ty touched my arm before I could leave.

  “Are you okay?”

  “He cornered me and said some shit,” I said, underselling my one-on-one time with Robbie, and I winced as Devin pounded his fist against the door down the hall. “Oh God, he’s going to kill someone …”

  Pound, pound, pound. We both winced that time.

  I turned and ran down the hallway, wondering if a rock star’s life was always this full of drama. I met the open door and watched, as Devin pushed Richard aside and stepped into the room.

  “Jesus Christ, Devin,” I groaned and walked past Richard, clutching at my robe. “Come on. It’s not worth it. He’s not—”

  “Ah, O’Leary,” Robbie said, stepping out of the bathroom with the bottle of vodka, empty and swinging loosely from his fingers. “I guess Firecracker over here, spilled the beans about our encounter. Don’t worry, bro. I was gentle and used protec—”

  Before Robbie could finish, Devin’s fist connected with his jaw and he staggered backward into the bathroom, knocking his hip against the sink. Gasping, I rushed forward to grab at Devin, to keep him from throwing anymore punches, but Richard’s arm shot out, blocking my path.

  “Hey, Dev,” Richard said calmly, trying to grab his attention, but he went unheard.

  Devin stepped into the bathroom. Looming over the sleazy guy with the booze breath and stringy hair.

  “Holy shit, man, you actually hit me,” Robbie whined, and I couldn’t believe it myself. He gingerly touched his fingertips to his cheek. “What the fuck did you hit me for?”

  My jaw dropped, gawking over Richard’s blocking arm. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I shouted.

  Devin whipped his head around, shooting me a warning with his eyes. He had never looked at me quite like that before and my heart jumped into my throat. “Stay out of this, Kylie,” he said, voice lowered and threatening. He turned back to Robbie. “If I hear one more fucking thing about you so much as looking at her …”