by James, Vicki
I swear, as I walked down that corridor with an amused grin on my face, I had to readjust my dick in my jeans.
It definitely twitched that time.
Damn, Julia. She sure was strong… even when she obviously felt weak.
Chapter Seven
We were in the main suite again, three of us on one sofa facing the other two guys opposite us. I was wedged between Coops and Hawk, while Big D and Presley sat together. The atmosphere floating around this place was unsettling, and I wanted nothing more than to reach for a bottle of something to relax me.
“I’ve never seen Julia like that,” Coops said quietly, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.
“Same,” said Hawk. “She’s usually so solid. Unshakeable.”
Presley released a sigh, leaned back and threw his arms over the back of the sofa. The sound of his leather jacket creaked, and his cool eyes found mine. “She’s as human as we are. Guess she’s having a bad day. We’ve just got to give her some time.”
“Very insightful, Gandhi.” I rolled my eyes. “Shall we burn some incense and pick a quote of the day to read out to her when she walks back in here, too?”
“Don’t be a prick, Rhett.”
I huffed out a quiet laugh. I was about to say something to break the weird tension in the room, when the door flew open, smacking against the wall with a bang that made all of us flinch and turn around.
Julia marched in, her movements urgent and her eyes erratic as she came to a stop in between us. Every member of Youth Gone Wild remained quiet, waiting for the big voice from the petite body to speak.
She was dressed in her usual outfit. Tight fitted jeans, white T-shirt, and a cropped blazer—only today’s was navy instead of black. She pushed her red-painted nails through her short, dark hair, moving the overgrown bits away from her eyes.
“Sorry about that,” she started, a small scowl immediately forming as she stared at a spot on the coffee table between the sofas. I glanced down at it, looking for something that could hold her interest and disapproval, but apart from a few papers, a couple of empty bottles, and an ashtray, there was nothing. “Actually, I’m not fucking sorry about that at all. They were warned not to ask questions, and she went and did it anyway.”
“Julia—” Big D started.
“Stupid bitch,” Julia spat quietly, cutting him off.
The guys and I all turned to look at one another, confused as hell. Okay, so the interview hadn’t gone to plan. It wasn’t the best we’d ever endured, but it also wasn’t the worst. We’d been through some shit over the last three and a half years, and not once had it ever gotten under Julia’s skin the way this one had.
“Julia, you’re worrying us. Is everything okay?” Presley rasped.
She turned and stared at him for some time, looking right through him until she blinked hard and quickly cleared her throat. Her back straightened like she’d only just realised she was back in the room.
“Yeah. Sorry. A little rattled, that’s all. I can’t stand people who go against their word. If we don’t have boundaries in this business, this whole thing can come crashing down around us.”
“It won’t,” he reassured her.
“It might,” she added, her brow rising as she held his gaze. “And what happens then, Presley, huh? You know how fickle the crowds are. They love you one minute, throw you under the bus the next.”
“We’ll do better. Tell us what to do, and we’ll do better.”
Julia smiled a sad smile and placed a hand on his shoulder.
Damn teacher’s pet. He was everyone’s favourite since Tessa came on the scene. The arsehole who used to roar, now the quiet little pussycat who liked to purr and sedate everyone with his calming vibrations.
I glanced between the two of them, something inside me stirring at the fact that Presley was the one to get through to Julia, and not me. I sat forward.
“Jules, listen, forget about that piece of shit in there. You did us all a favour by ending it. Let them deal with the mess they made.”
She turned my way slowly.
I hated seeing that sadness lingering in her eyes, and I couldn’t for the life of me understand why I gave a single shit—why her welfare mattered all of a sudden. But it did.
It really, really did.
“Not all of us are like you, Rhett,” she said quietly. “Not all of us like to find ourselves in the middle of a scene. Some of us feel like crap after a confrontation.”
“Hey, that’s not fair.” She may as well have been the one to stick her boot in my ribs.
“I don’t need a lecture from you of all people.”
“From me of all people? What the hell does that mean? Wait, is this about me? Are you pissed because of something I’ve done?”
“Imagine.” She sighed with sarcasm.
“Julia…”
She groaned and rolled her eyes. “No, Rhett, fuck! Not everything is about you. Don’t you get that? Not everything on this tour comes back to the frontman.”
I rose to stand in front of her, hating the way she was making me feel so small. “Cut me some slack, Jules. I’m trying to help here.”
“You want to help? If you really want to help me and the band then stop thinking this entire tour starts and ends with your dick. Stop getting yourself into situations I have to get you out of. Stop thinking this band is about how many times you can get in trouble and survive. Start realising there is more to this than you, and then maybe, just maybe, once you’ve grown the hell up, we’ll talk.”
My mouth fell open as I stared at her. She looked back at me like she hated me, and the reality of that made my heart beat uncharacteristically faster. I didn’t want her to hate me. I could take everyone else thinking poorly of who I was… but not her. Not Jules.
Where had all this come from?
I couldn’t look away.
Julia’s chest bounced as she stared at me, waiting for some snarky comeback, no doubt. I had them waiting on the tip of my tongue, too. I had a whole lot of shit to say but setting them free would serve her well right now. She wanted me to mess up so she could justify her outburst. Julia wanted me to prove her right.
Fuck. That.
I pressed my lips together, not showing her an ounce of emotion before I took a step closer and lowered my head to hers.
“I don’t know what the fuck is going on here,” I said quietly, my fists clenched down by my thighs. “But that is the last time you’ll speak to me that way and get away with it. I was trying to help. If being a friend makes me a bad person, then screw you. We won’t be friends anymore. Let’s not be anything.”
Without saying another word, I walked past her, our arms brushing together on the way. I made it to my room and slammed the door shut with all the dramatics she no doubt expected.
Not one of those bastards stood up for me against her, either.
Was Julia right? Was I becoming the very things she’d said I was becoming? Selfish? Narcissistic? Arrogant?
Had I somehow turned into the Liam Montgomerys of the world?
The thought made me swallow a giant dry lump in my throat, and I quickly scanned my room to find my denim jacket. I found it hanging over the back of a chair in the corner, so I went over and dug through the pockets. I thought I was out of luck until I checked the inside breast pocket and felt the smooth plastic between my fingers. When I pulled it out, the small bag of coke felt like heaven in my hands.
Fuck each and every one of them out there.
Fuck the world, too.
It was time to escape again.
Chapter Eight
I’d hung out of the window and smoked three cigarettes before I’d made my way over to the unnecessarily big bed.
The knock at the door didn’t even make me flinch.
“Not here!” I called out.
If Presley, Big D, or any of the lads were about to give me a lecture and tell me to apologise to Julia, I wasn’t playing along.
There was a
nother knock.
“Rhett!” Julia called out. “Please let me in.”
What the hell is she doing here?
“Rhett,” Julia called again. It sounded like her head hit the door with a thud a second later.
Groaning, I covered the unused lines of coke on the bedside table with a magazine, and I made my way across the hotel room. I opened the door at a torturously slow pace before I peered through the small crack to see Julia standing there.
Damn, those brown eyes were sad again. Even though I was mad, my fingers itched to reach out and wipe that sorrow away. It was a weird thing to see someone who was usually so strong appear so broken.
“You gonna let me in?” she asked quietly.
“Not in the mood for another roasting, to be honest.”
“That’s not why I’m here.”
“Then you’re here to check up on me and make sure I’m not about to hit another strip club to cause more trouble.”
“No,” she whispered, shaking her head carefully. “Let me in, Rhett.”
Let me in, Rhett…
With a roll of my eyes, I stepped back and held the door open. She walked in, holding a bottle of Jack Daniels in one hand, and two crystal tumblers in the other. She held them up. “Peace offering.”
“Nothing says you’re sorry like granting me permission to get fucked up.”
“You don’t need my permission. You never have, and that’s the problem.”
I let go of the door with dramatic flair, my hand frozen in the air when it eventually hit the frame. “Ah, and so it begins. Jack Daniels might not be strong enough for this.”
Julia made her way to the small, round table by the window, and she took a seat in one of the two leather armchairs. She twisted the cap on the JD and began pouring.
“You going to stand around bitching like a little girl all night, or are you going to join me for a drink like a man?”
I cast a glance at the lines hiding under the shitty magazine before I groaned and walked over to take the other seat opposite Jules. We didn’t say anything for a while. She leaned back to relax, and I did the same, draping an ankle over my knee as I reached for my glass and took a sip of alcohol.
I studied her as she wrapped her plump little lips around her tumbler, her eyes focused on the alcohol inside the glass before she eventually dropped it back onto the table and glanced up at me.
My smirk rose.
“You love this, don’t you?” she asked quietly.
“Jack Daniels? Can’t beat it.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Oh, you mean I love watching you struggle with knowing you were wrong?”
She narrowed her eyes and smirked right back at me. Her cheekbones became prominent, and that little blush rose to the tips of each one.
It was fucking adorable.
She looked warm in this cold world I’d become trapped in.
“You may as well just say you’re sorry and get it out of the way, Jules. It won’t be as painful as it is to grind your teeth together and bite your tongue.”
“Would you apologise if you’d fucked up?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“Who I’d hurt in the process and if they mattered to me.”
Her smirk faded. “You do matter to me, Rhett. And I didn’t mean to hurt you, if that’s what I did. I was frustrated, angry—”
“And you thought you could use me as a human punchbag to get all your shit out.”
“No.” Julia shook her head. “I wasn’t using you as a punchbag. Everything I said to you, I meant, but I am sorry about saying those things in front of others. The guys in the band didn’t need to hear that.”
I ran my free hand through the longer lengths of my hair, holding it in place at the back of my head as I studied her. “So, you do think I’m a narcissistic arsehole?”
“Oh, definitely.”
“Wow,” I mouthed, hating the way that made my heart pinch a little.
What do you even care? Julia means nothing to you.
“But,” she began, leaning forward until she was resting on the edge of her seat. She wrapped both hands around the glass that sat on the table, and she held my gaze. “I also happen to think you’re a decent guy. I think you try too hard sometimes, but there’s good in there somewhere. I respect you for your talent. I admire you for the way you create art. I adore your voice because it’s one of the purest sounds in the whole world, even when it’s broken and pleading for things it can never have. If ever I’m sad, I only need to listen to you sing, and everything bad fades away in my life.”
I swallowed, unsure how to handle hearing compliments that made my chest swell a little.
“There are sides to you I don’t know yet, too. I think there are sides to you that not even you’ve discovered. And even though there are traits that really piss me off, my main feeling around you is one of admiration… and frustration.”
“Sexual?”
She sighed, not impressed, and I wish I could have taken that one word back.
“Sorry,” I muttered, clearing my throat.
“You don’t know how to be serious about anything, do you?”
I do, I wanted to protest.
I knew how to love my parents—my mum and stepdad. I knew how to care for those who’d only ever been good to me. I knew how to be serious about the motherfuckers who’d beaten me black and blue in the school playground during high school. I knew how I seriously wanted to prove them wrong—all of them. I knew how to focus on the progress of this band. I knew how to look at life through serious eyes when I had to write lyrics, talk business, and protect our art.
“I think that’s the problem,” I sighed. “Nobody sees.”
“Sees what?”
“The real me.” I blinked, waiting for her to respond, but she just stared at me with wide eyes that made me want to tell her my whole fucking life story. “Jules, I’m here on tour, doing what I do, being who I am because I’m serious about so many things. Mainly about not wasting this opportunity by being sensible, climbing into bed before midnight every night, and eating my greens. I’m serious. It’s just a different kind of serious to yours. Maybe to everyone’s.”
She took another sip of her drink, and I didn’t miss the way she licked her lips before she pushed the glass to her mouth.
That pink tongue made something twist up in the pit of my stomach.
I did not want to fuck Julia.
Except… I think I did. The very thought made my dick twitch, and I quickly stretched out my neck, straightened up my posture, and drained my glass in one.
“Can I tell you a little secret?” she asked as she slammed her glass back on the table with a little too much force. “I admire all those things about you. All the things you think people hate, I respect, even when I lash out and tell you that I don’t. You’re free. You’re who you are with no apologies.”
I raised my brows and waited, sensing there was more.
“I’m fed up of being serious,” she admitted quietly. Her eyes shot up to mine, narrowed and inviting. “How do you do it?”
“Do what?” I cleared my throat.
“Forget everything.”
I frowned, not understanding.
“When I told you about your real father, you barely batted an eyelid. You…” Julia waved a flippant hand through the air. “You shrugged it off, and you just walked away from it.”
“What else did you expect me to do?” I asked, ignoring the swirling grief that lingered somewhere inside of me—too far out of reach for me to feel it with any permanency, but there, all the same. “Breakdown and grieve over a man I’d never met? Lose myself to someone I didn’t even know?”
“It would have made me believe you were human.”
“You don’t think I’m human?”
“That’s not what I meant,” she muttered, wincing.
I moved forward to rest my arms on the table—to be closer to her. Her perfume s
uddenly felt like it was the foundation of my very own cloud nine, and I wanted to roll around in it for hours.
“What’s going on, Jules? You’re worrying me.” Her sad eyes rose to mine. “You’re not okay, are you?”
She shook her head slowly, no words coming out.
“Want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
“Please? For me…”
“My… my sister lost her baby today,” she whispered quietly. “She went into labour too early. There was nothing they could do.”
“Shit, Jules.”
I hadn’t even known she had a sister, never mind that she’d been pregnant. Truth was, I knew very little about Julia Speed outside of her life with this band. That single admission from her suddenly made her nothing but human, and I found myself moving to her as tears filled her eyes. Before I registered what, exactly, I was doing, I was knelt in front of her, looking up as I pressed my hands onto her thighs in support.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” I whispered.
“I don’t know what to do to help from so far away, and I don’t like the way that makes me feel inside. I fix things. For her, I always fix things. I can’t fix this.”
“Have you been dealing with this all day by yourself?”
“Kinda.”
“Jules,” I sighed. “You fucking idiot.”
A single heavy tear fell down her cheek, marking her perfectly ivory skin with a straight line of unhappiness I wasn’t used to seeing. I wanted to swipe it away, to take away her pain as this woman who I’d always thought was strong crumbled in front of me.
“She’s my twin,” Julia rasped.
“Twin?”
“Her name is Sarah. We’ve always been a team. S and J. Julia and Sarah. When she hurts, I hurt with her. It’s the way it’s always been. She feels pain. I take it away for both of us.”
“It can’t always work that way. If you save everyone else, who saves you?”
“I save myself.”
I had no response to that, so I squeezed her thighs and waited for her to speak.
“The baby was born at twenty-three weeks.”