by Nola Marie
Now I laugh because I was totally just doing that. Reading way more into the invitation than necessary. “I guess I am one of those girls,” I tell him.
“One date. Dinner and dancing ‘cause I have got to see you dance again.”
“Okay,” I agree. “One date.”
“Good. In the meantime, how about we practice all the things that I would never try on a first date. See if I can get you to forget about whoever this Angel person is,” he tells me with a grin leaning over to kiss me again.
And several orgasms later, I’m asleep beside a man I just met after we discussed where we would go for our first date, dreaming of Angel.
Angel
Song
Better Than Me
I watched as that bartender flirted with Josie. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her as she danced amongst the others on the dance floor making me wonder where and when she learned to move like that. Her moves, seductive and sultry. She called to me like a damn siren, but then again, she always has.
It was stupid. After what happened only moments before, I shouldn’t have gone anywhere near her, but I couldn’t handle it anymore. I had to touch her. To feel her moving with me.
The energy in the room shifted when my hands went to her hips. The charge could be felt in the entire room when I stupidly put my mouth to her bare skin. Skin I’ve wanted to taste my entire life.
I know she felt it too. I could see it in her eyes. Feel it in the way her breathing became labored and heavy. It was different from when we were kids when the electricity would zap and tingle. This was so much more. A physical burning deep within blazing up and spreading out.
And my night was officially shit when I watched her leave with him.
I grabbed the first available blonde when I left the club. I fucked her until she was begging for me to stop. Used up her pussy until there was nothing left. At least she was left satisfied. I was more pissed.
It didn’t help at all. All I could see was Josie. In that fucking dress that left so very little to the imagination. I pictured that guy’s hands all over her body. I replayed her comparing me to Erica on a loop. And the damn possessive, protective feelings that I have. Had since we were kids.
It pisses me off to feel like this but the woman in the dressing room and in the club was not the same girl I knew. Not by a longshot.
My Josie was a good girl. She wouldn’t have sat at a bar tossing back shots like they were made of gold. She wouldn’t have flaunted herself on the dancefloor like that. She would never have gone home with some random guy she picked up in a bar.
But what the hell do I know? My Josie would never have ditched and abandoned me so maybe I never really knew her at all.
And that pisses me off even more because I thought I knew her better than anyone.
I don’t know why a girl from so damn far in my past is getting to me like she is. Yes, we were close once but that was so long ago. The last couple of my teen years and nearly all my twenties have been spent without her being a part of my life. Yes, she has always been there, in the crevices of my mind, but she should not be under my skin like this.
I fucking hate her and yet want to protect her.
Who the hell am I kidding? I may want to protect her from assholes, but I don’t want to protect her from myself. Not like I did when we were kids and I’m the biggest asshole. I want her just like I always have but was too fucking scared to do anything about it. I’m still too fucking scared.
And I still think of her as my Josie.
“You look like shit,” Dane says when I walk into the building of the radio station.
“You look like a douche,” I snap back with a scowl.
Dane returns my scowl with one of his own. Ryder and Maddox, who are in a corner with their guitars, laugh. “Someone’s still bloody pissed off today. Maybe you shoulda found yourself someone to help alleviate some of that stress,” Ryder tells me.
“It didn’t fucking work,” I tell him with a bit of a growl.
“What did that girl do to you?” Dane asks with a smirk. “High school was a long damn time ago to have that kind of reaction.”
I roll my neck trying to work out the pinch I feel. “She’s just another in a list. That’s all they’re good for; right? Dropping you like a bad habit when you need them most.”
“Fuck, man that’s dark.”
I shrug. “Not dark. Just true.”
“I didn’t drop anyone,” I hear behind me. “I got dropped. I’m the one who got humiliated day after day. I’m the one who had horrible things said about her. I’m the one who had embarrassing shit written across her locker. I AM THE ONE WHO HAD YOUR GIRLFRIEND TELL THE ENTIRE SCHOOL HOW DESPERATE I WAS.”
I turn around and see those bright eyes blazing like the hottest part of a fire. She is pissed. More pissed than I ever imagine she was capable of being.
Red circles cover her cheeks. Her fists are clenched by her side. She almost looks like she’s going to erupt in flames.
And tears are in her eyes.
But her tears don’t mean a thing to me. I start to respond to her outburst, but she shuts me down quick.
“I was always there for you. Since we were babies, I was there every single freaking time you needed me. I was in love with you and you freaking knew it but why the hell you needed to take my feelings and humiliate me with them I will never understand. Why did you tell me to come over? Was it so I could see you fucking her? And why you had to get with the one girl who made it her mission in life to humiliate me I will never understand. Years of torture, Angel. Years of being called names, of being locked in the locker room without my clothes. Years of being shoved out of locker rooms without my clothes. Years of being pushed and shoved to the ground. Of opening my locker to have condoms fall out everywhere. And you just stood there and let her, and your little posse do it. You let them hurt and humiliate me in ways no one should have to endure.”
I open my mouth, yet again to speak, except this time nothing comes out. I don’t understand half of what she said. I don’t have a clue what she’s talking about. I never texted her to come over that night and I never in a million years would’ve wanted her to see me and Erica together.
“You were right yesterday. I shouldn’t be here. I thought I could do it. I thought I was over all of it but I’m not. Apparently, it hurts as much now as it did when I was an insecure teenager. I guess I won’t ever get over it or stop hating you,” she says as she viciously wipes tears away. “I’m sorry, Camilla, but I quit.”
She turns on her heel and runs out of the building.
“What the fuck was that?” Maddox asks me through narrowed eyes.
“Dude, you had her come over while you were fucking another girl?” Dane asks in disbelief.
“What?” I yell. “No. I didn’t do that. I don’t know what she’s talking about.”
“Well, she seemed pretty adamant,” Ryder adds.
I grit my teeth. “I knew she was teased,” I admit as I work to maintain my cool. Or what little I have left. “But I tried to shut it down when I could. And I sure as fuck didn’t ask her to come over while I was having sex with anyone.”
“All I know is that I better not lose an amazing assistant because you were a douche bag teenager,” Camilla tells me through her dark narrowed eyes. “Now everyone, get undressed while I try to fix this.”
My mind wanders back to one of the days I do remember. The day Erica was trying her best to make Josie out to be some kind of desperate slut.
I walk to the table I usually sit at in the over-the-top extravagant high school cafeteria. It always amazed me the way the school would spend the money the parents donated. I mean, is a sushi bar really necessary in a high school cafeteria?
I spot Erica sitting there like she’s been doing for the last couple of weeks. I’m pretty sure she thinks we’re a thing now. I’m not sure what we are or what I even want except for Josie to fucking talk to me.
I watch as Erica animatedly te
lls Blake, Jason, and a few other of my friends some story. They’re laughing like she’s telling them the most hilarious story they’ve ever heard.
I take my seat next to Jason like I do every day then begin to devour my pizza. “Why didn’t you tell us how pathetic Josie was?” he asks me with a laugh.
I look at him in confusion and anger. “What the fuck are you talking about?” I growl.
“Come on man. We all know you’re protective of her but damn. Never knew she was crazy pathetic and a hoe.”
Everyone at the table begins cackling like hyenas while I grip my tray try so hard it begins crack. “Don’t talk about her like that,” I growl out threatening. I’d just threatened them a few days ago over the fucking Grossie Josie remarks.
“Come on Ang, you can’t protect her forever. The truth was bound to come out sooner or later.”
“I don’t know who the fuck told you any of that but it’s not true.”
All eyes at the table turn to Erica. She looks at me with sympathy. “I was just telling them about the other night. You’ve got to admit it was pretty weird.”
My eyes bore holes into her. The cackling and cajoling at Josie’s expense continues for several more minutes while I try to figure out why the hell Erica would tell them anything at all. Did she tell them how I basically threw her to the floor to chase after Josie?
Finally, I can’t take it anymore. Josie doesn’t deserve this. I still have no idea what she was doing there dressed like that, but I do know there had to be a reason.
Had Erica not been there, what would’ve happened? Part of me is glad that Erica was there because I wouldn’t have had the strength to keep my hands off of her.
God I’ve wanted her for a long damn time, but Josie is – a good girl. She is the exact opposite of me. Perfect and authentic and deserves someone without all my baggage. I may only be eighteen, but I’ve got so much anger and I’ve done so many things that I hope Josie never finds out about.
“Shut your goddamn mouth,” I finally yell loud enough that the entire cafeteria becomes silent.
“What’s wrong, Martin? Still trying to protect your little pet? She’s a desperate whore.”
Without thinking I’m out of my seat, dragging Jason with me. I pin him to the floor and land one hit after another to his pretty boy face. Over and over again until I feel hands pulling me off.
I was nearly expelled for that stunt. My dad threw a lot of money at the school and at Jason’s parents to keep me there. Dad wasn’t too thrilled about any of it. Especially since I wouldn’t tell him what it was over.
I’m still mulling over that day when Josie walks back into the building. Camilla sends her to the racks of clothes while shooting a glare my way.
Josie’s eyes are red from crying and fuck if I don’t feel like I’m in high school all over again. I can’t count the times I saw her walking down the halls with her head hanging or with tears in her eyes. Every time it ripped me in two because I wanted to be there for her, but she wouldn’t let me.
What she said earlier? I couldn’t believe it was coming from her mouth. She was more or less blaming me for the bullying she endured. And the way she included Erica? I knew they didn’t like each other but I had no idea that Erica was so deeply involved. I wouldn’t have been with her had I known.
But none of that explains why she cut me off. Why she shut me out and bolted the door shut. So tightly that we were practically strangers for the first time in our lives.
Josie was right, we did grow up together. Our parents had been best friends our entire lives. We’d literally known each other since we were in diapers.
But apparently eighteen years together didn’t mean anything after that night.
I watch as she works with Maddox. He flashes her that million-dollar smile he has getting a weak one from her in response. My fists clench at my sides as he brushes hair from her face making her blush.
“Get it together, Mate,” Ryder says beside me. “He’s just trying to make her feel better.”
“It shouldn’t fucking matter,” I tell him. “I hate her so much but everything in me wants to throttle any guy that gets to close. Guess it’s hard to shut down the protective big brother instinct.”
“That how you see her?” he asks me with a cocked brow. “Like a sister? If you say yes by the way, I’m calling bullshit. You look at her just like the rest of us do.” My chest rumbles at his admission. He gives a low chuckle with a shake of his head. “Didn’t think so. Unless you plan on doing something about it, you may as well get used to the idea of seeing guys all over her. She’s going to attract a lot of attention on tour with us.”
Ryder was wrong. Josie didn’t have to be on tour to attract attention. Before we left the radio station, she’d been hit on by every man and a few women there at least once. Including some dudebro that reminded me of Jason. Took everything in me not to punch his face in.
I suppose all of us have been called that once or twice. My dad made his money as an attorney to the stars. Dane’s grandfather was a big shot attorney too. He left everything to Dane when he died. It was enough to help him find his sisters and get custody of Cara with plenty left over.
Ryder and Maddox made Dane and I look broke. Their families were old money. Ryder’s family had been some fancy jewelry makers for over a century. Maddox’s family money went way, way back when the oil industry first took off. Now his father was the CEO of some huge company.
Both of their families had cut them off.
Fortunately, they had their trusts. Big trusts that Ryder gained access to at eighteen and Maddox at twenty-one. They didn’t really need their families’ money anymore.
I’m pretty sure Maddox still has contact with his family. Olivia’s presence is an indication of that but from what I hear, Ryder hasn’t spoken to either of his parents in years, but no one’s ever given me any explanation as to why. I haven’t asked either.
Truth is though, none of us are unaware of how fortunate we were growing up. Not financially anyway. But money does not equal to happy little lives. I’m pretty sure we’re all evidence of that.
We all walk out of the station together. A few people are gathered around looking for autographs from us. Maddox and Ryder pay special attention to a couple of hot girls batting their lashes. Dane is on the phone with his sisters as usual.
Me? I’m watching Josie climb into the passenger side of some little foreign Honda looking car with a big smile. The bartender from last night holds the door open for her with a matching smile.
Our eyes lock for a second as they drive away. For a split second, it’s not fury she’s flashing at me. It’s sadness and hurt.
And fuck if I know what to do with that.
Josephine
For the first time since I started working with Camilla nearly two months ago, I make it to the office before her. I set the half-caf soy latte on her side of the oversized desk then move to my own seat opposite her with my regular non-dairy creamer and sugar.
I open my laptop to check our schedule and get through a few emails. I’m nearly halfway through replies when Camilla comes into the office wearing wayfarers and a ballcap pulled low over her eyes. Without uttering a word, she closes all the blinds, switches off the lights, and closes the door.
“Hiding from someone?” I question with a snicker.
“Sshhh,” she puts a finger to her lips. “I’m just trying to outrun this hangover.”
“Camilla Rivers,” I mock gasp with my hand to my chest, “did you go out drinking? On a work night?”
“Don’t play games with me, Ms. Byers,” she whisper-taunts back, removing the ballcap from her head. “I know exactly what – or rather who you were doing just a few nights ago yourself. How is our smoking hot bartender by the way?”
I shake my head with a smile. A. J. and I have been out a few times in the last week. He’s nice. I tell her as much.
“And?”
“Well, he is smoking hot,” I add, “and, as i
t turns out, not actually a bartender. Well, not just a bartender, I guess.”
She leans forward over the desk as she sips on her latte. “Meaning?” she asks intently behind the dark glasses.
“Meaning he is actually part owner of the club,” I grin.
“Girl, you mean to tell me he’s sexy and loaded,” she fans herself as if the thought just increased the temperature in the room.
I give a little shrug. I toss that out there for her benefit. I’m not concerned with anyone’s bank accounts but my own.
“How are you not more excited over this? I’d be dancing on the tables.”
“I do like him,” I tell her because it’s the truth, if not the entire truth.
“Uh oh. Does he suck in bed?” she asks crinkling her upturned nose.
“Oh my God, Camilla. No, he doesn’t suck in bed. That part is actually pretty good.”
“Then what’s the problem because you don’t seem very enthusiastic about him.”
I release a long sigh. There are a lot of reasons I’m not over the moon about A. J. and it makes me feel pretty crappy. Because what girl wouldn’t want a sexy, gorgeous man with a great personality and a pretty successful career?
One reason is that I am still technically engaged. I mean, I left Los Angeles without saying a word to Robert. I have actively avoided his calls and texts. I would block him on social media except I haven’t had social media since I was twenty-one.
The other reason? I don’t feel a spark with A. J.
I didn’t feel it with Robert either. I was with him for three years and never felt even a tingle when I was with him. Sure, I loved him but there was no chemistry. He was just the ‘smart’ choice as my parents like to say.
I want that spark. I want to feel the electricity and the tingles I’ve read about in romance novels. I want the chemistry and the fire and the flames.
I want passion.
I want what I feel every time Angel is in the vicinity except without the blinding hatred.
Which is why I told A. J. we should be friends. Not something anyone wants to hear, I realize, but we weren’t going to go anywhere. I knew that the first night with him.