Never Trust a Rockstar

by Sarah Darlington

  But I quickly found sitting across from Ollie, facing him, was the better option. I could really study his face under the yellow glow of the limo lights. He was just as handsome in person as he was in every photo I’d ever seen of him. Clean shaven, messy brown hair, eyes easy to get lost in.

  “Hi Emma, I’m Ollie,” he told me. He had a cocky grin on his lips, the same one I often saw in pictures, as if he knew every woman who stared back at him was already half in love with him. Momentarily, he moved from his seat to reach across the middle and shake my hand. I was too numb to really sense his touch. He stumbled a little as he sat back down just as the limo began to move.

  “It’s nice to meet you. This is Dani, our cousin, Michelle, our manager, Luke, and Caleb.” The other people all offered up their own hellos.

  My heart thumped against my ribs. “Hi everyone.”

  “Where are you from?” Dani asked me. She wore a two-piece black dress paired with a studded leather jacket. Her lips were painted crimson and her chestnut brown hair was styled in a high pony on top of her head. Total Rockstar chic.

  “Kill Devil Hills. It’s in North Carolina.”

  “That sounds interesting,” Ollie commented, smiling that panty-melting smile of his.

  I felt heat rising through me at his one little look. My face probably matched Dani’s lipstick. We all fell into silence after that. Should I try to carry the conversation? Or should I let him? There was all this pressure, all eyes were on me in the limo. It was like having a blind date with an audience.

  I stared down at my hands, fidgeting with a ruffle of blue material on my dress. From the corner of my eye I noticed Caleb’s hand resting on his right thigh. His hand was squeezing the crap out of that thigh. Was he as nervous as me? Was I making this awkward for all of us?

  “I thought there’d be whiskey,” I joked, trying to lighten the air.

  No one laughed, except a small chuckle from Caleb beside me.

  Great, now they all think I’m some raging alcoholic.

  “There’ll be a whiskey tasting at the gala,” Michelle commented.

  “Right. Of course. I can wait until then.”

  Perfect—making it worse.

  That moment the limo came to a stop in front of our destination. It hadn’t been a long drive. Less than a mile. Someone opened a door from the outside, and everyone started to exit the limo. Ollie then Dani then Luke then Michelle. From where we sat, Caleb and I were the last two left inside.

  “Go ahead,” I told him.

  “No, you first.”

  “No, I insist you go.”

  “No, I’m not going first.”

  “Oh my God, I’m blowing this.” I don’t know what compelled me to be so honest with him, probably the ten pounds of butterflies playing take-off and landing in my stomach, but out poured the words. We were alone, and since he’d been nice to me before I felt I could speak freely. “I’ve wanted to meet Ollie for years. Seriously, years. And I can’t even carry on a conversation like a normal person. I don’t even particularly like whiskey.”

  “You’re not blowing anything.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “No. Look, the moment before you got into the limo, we all sort of got into an argument. So the tension you felt just now—it had nothing to do with you. Just our normal family shit resurfacing. I promise, you’re fine. You’re doing great. I’m sorry we aren’t better company—all of us at once together.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  I felt a little weight leave my shoulders.

  “Now, after you,” he urged. “Ladies first.” He gestured for me to leave in front of him. And this time, I did. I moved to get out of the limo.

  Out in the fresh air, I sucked in a deep breath. Then nearly choked on that same breath when Ollie draped his arm over my shoulder. “All right, Emma, you ready to do this thing?”

  I’m pretty sure I giggled like a fool.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” Ollie continued to hold my shoulders tight. “Are you a fan of Johnny Cash?”

  “I saw the movie with Reese Witherspoon. Does that count?”

  “Almost. This is the Johnny Cash museum. C’mon. I bet you every head in that room turns when I walk in with you.”

  He guided my shoulders and led me into the museum, and then into the banquet room that held the Christopher Scott Gala. Ollie wasn’t kidding. When he entered, every person—at least majority of the women—stopped and watched us walk in.

  ~ CHAPTER 7 ~

  CALEB

  My brother was an ass. First, I’d whispered, don’t you dare be your sleazy self, not with this girl, to Ollie as I got in the limo.

  Which had clearly been a mistake.

  Because I revealed myself to him in that moment. I’d been trying to protect her by putting her off limits, which only made her all the more appealing in Ollie’s eyes.

  I mean, he surprisingly kept it in his pants for the three-minute limo ride. But the second we climbed out… the second he saw me linger inside with her, he was all over her.

  His arm around her.

  His fingers on her skin.

  Whispering things in her ear I could only imagine as we made our entrance, found our table, and began the evening.

  I’d known this girl for a grand total of thirty minutes, and already I wanted to punch my brother in his face over her.

  Emma, like every other girl out there, didn’t seem immune to his charms. I mean, she’d flat out told me twice she was here for him, so this shouldn’t have disappointed me. But it did disappoint me. Especially when I dropped my fork, and as I bent down to grab it, I noticed he had his hand on her leg under the table, probably seconds away from slipping it under the layers of her dress.

  She wasn’t pushing it away, either.

  My stomach dropped.

  I left the table, mid-salad course, and went to the bar. I ordered a whiskey, thinking only of the dry joke Emma had made earlier in the limo about whiskey, when an old friend came up beside me.

  Adien Scott—my roommate freshman year, my only year because I dropped out that same year, at Vanderbilt here in Nashville. His grandfather was Christopher Scott, the person being honored at this gala. He’d suffered from pancreatic cancer, and every year since his death Adien put on his grand affair to raise money for pancreatic cancer in his name. He’d outdone himself this year. The venue couldn’t have been more fitting.

  “You look half miserable tonight, Caleb,” Adien said to me. “What’s up?”

  I sighed, taking a slow sip of the liquid gold. How could anyone not love whiskey? “Ollie’s annoying the shit out of me.”

  “Mmm. Ollie is so yummy I could lick him.”

  “Seems you and everyone else have that same idea in mind.”

  Did I mention Adien was gay...and a porn star? It really didn’t matter to me. His career choice hadn’t changed our friendship. I always ended up on TMZ every time we were spotted speaking to each other, but I hardly cared about that either.

  “Who’s the girl?”

  “What girl?” I knew which girl he meant.

  “Please. The girl with Ollie tonight?”

  “She won a date with him, like a charity thing. So we just met her about half an hour ago. I don’t really know much about her.”

  “And you’re into her.”

  “Christ.” I flipped around and set my drink on the bar top. Was I that transparent? “How the fuck do you read people like that?” I muttered.

  Adien leaned in beside me so we wouldn’t be overheard. Celebrities and the rich love to gossip more than anything in life—and I always try to keep my life as private as possible. “It’s a talent. It’s why I’m so magnificent at my day job.”

  “Suggestions?”

  “Well you should probably get over there before Ollie finds a way into her pants. Which never takes him long. Talking to me isn’t going to score you any points with her.” He rapped his knuckles on the hard wood in front of us. “Barten
der. Another whiskey for Mr. Caleb Mills here. Jack Daniels Bicentennial, this time.”

  “You know your whiskeys,” I commented.

  It was a six-hundred dollar a bottle whiskey he’d just ordered me. The bartender had to duck down in the cabinets below for a good long while to find it.

  “You can’t live in this town and not. Go give her the drink. You’re better company than Ollie any day, I promise. It was good seeing you again, old friend. I’ll find you later tonight to talk more, unless I don’t.” He winked at me and left my side.

  Adien had a point. The longer I sulked in the corner, the harder I made this for myself. I wasn’t entirely sure what I wanted to gain from this evening. Possibly, only a friend. But I really wanted to talk to Emma again and see what might be there. Grabbing my drink and the second one the bartender left for me, I turned to head back to our table.

  I turned and ran right into someone coming up beside me.

  It was her.

  “Shit,” I said aloud as both drinks went straight onto Emma’s chest and the front of her pretty dress.

  She let out a small, shocked gasp. Drops of liquid spilled everywhere. Her eyes met mine, pleading for help, as we both just stood there for moment, stunned.

  “Shit,” I whispered again.

  I didn’t know what to do. I was a guy. And, apparently, clumsy as fuck. Setting the glasses aside on the bar, I took off the jacket to my tux and wrapped it around her shoulders. Then I took her hand and pulled her out of the spotlight—because people were watching us, like rubberneckers at a traffic accident—and guided her out of the banquet area.

  Within a moment we were walking down a corridor to the museum. I was searching for a bathroom but had no clue which way to go. I stopped walking when I realized I was getting us lost.

  I looked back at Emma. I took a deep breath. She had big, fat tears welling in her pale blue eyes—eyes locked on mine, still searching for help. My heart squeezed, seeing her get emotional.

  I felt like such an idiot.

  “I’m sorry,” she told me, removing her hand from mine so she could dab at her eyes. She took caution not to mess up her eye makeup, turning her head away from me, not wanting me to see.

  “You’re sorry? I’m the one who spilled on you. I’m sorry.”

  “No, the dress is fine. It will dry.”

  It took me a moment to realize these tears weren’t for her dress. They were for Ollie. He had tried to touch her, probably under the table moments after I had left them, just like I was expecting. I left, and I let it happen when I could have stayed and stopped my brother.

  I guess I just thought...since she liked him and all, she wouldn’t mind him touching her like that under the table. Girls never minded it. But this girl did.

  It made me like her even more.

  “Did Ollie touch you?”

  “No. There’s obviously a lot of layers to this dress.” She joked, even though it wasn’t a joke.

  “But he tried to.” The temperature inside me rose. I tugged my fingers through my hair.

  “I didn’t let him.”

  “Then he said something to you,” I concluded next. He wouldn’t have taken rejection well.

  “No.” She was lying. I could see it her eyes. He’d tried to touch her under the table. She’d stopped him. And he’d said something nasty to her, something that must have hit her emotions as his way of retaliating.

  It was killing me, wondering what he’d said, knowing if I’d only stayed in my seat at the table, I could have prevented this.

  “Ollie just put some stuff into perspective for me. I think I’ve been in denial for a while now, using this crush I’ve had on him as a mask for other shit in my life. And everything shattered. Ollie’s definitely not who I thought he was. Maybe I always knew that, though.”

  She sniffled, glancing around at the Johnny Cash memorabilia surrounding us.

  “Anyway, I was coming over to say goodbye before you hit me with your drink.”

  “Your drink,” I clarified. “I was actually on my way to bring you that drink.”

  “Oh,” she uttered.

  “And I don’t want you to go, not like this. I feel awful about my brother. Can I make it up to you? Can I treat you to pizza? There’s a place not far from here.”

  I really pulled the pizza thing out of my ass. It was the most non-threatening thing I could think of. No matter what... I didn’t want this night to end like this.

  Never seeing her again wasn’t something I wanted to face.

  “Pizza sounds amazing right now... but I’d rather just go back to my hotel room, change out of this dress, and try to forget I ever met Ollie.”

  Fuck. He must have said something really awful to her. I’ll beat his ass for this. “Can I at least walk you out? Get the limo for you?”

  She nodded. The tears in her eyes had dried. If I hadn’t seen her at the start of this evening, glowing with excitement, I wouldn’t have known something was wrong now. But I had seen that other side, and it was a stark difference compared to the girl in front of me now. I wasn’t sure I’d ever forgive Ollie for this.

  ~ CHAPTER 8 ~

  EMMA

  A small-town girl like you—the highlight of your entire life would be fucking me.

  That was what Ollie had whispered to me. At first, the attention from Ollie had been like a dream. I was actually meeting him. He was actually speaking to me. He had his arm around my shoulders, and it felt like I was flying. But as we sat down at our table, and as the waiter took our drink orders, his hand settled on my thigh.

  I didn’t push it away.

  Then he leaned in and started whispering things to me. In the limo he might have asked where I was from, but beyond that there weren’t any more personal questions. Because, I quickly realized, he didn’t care to get to know me.

  He whispered things like you’re beautiful and you’re so damn sexy.

  His words felt rehearsed, not real.

  Before... before coming here... Luce had sat me down and told me he’d probably try to sleep with me. Because guys like Ollie—that’s what they do. I’d thought in my head, hell yes, I’d sleep with Ollie.

  But when it came down to it, I didn’t want to. Not like this. Not in the bathroom, as he suggested. So, I told him no. Firmly, too.

  He was quick to pull his hand away.

  And even quicker to say those nasty things. “A small-town girl like you—the highlight of your entire life would be fucking me. You could tell your grandchildren,” he whispered against my ear.

  “Oh yes, now I really want to meet you in the bathroom,” I returned sarcastically. Both Dani and Luke heard me say this, staring at us with wide-eyes as they stopped their side conversation at once. “Get over yourself, Ollie Mills.” I threw down my napkin and stood. “Everyone knows that Caleb—he’s the only reason anyone even knows your name.”

  I didn’t wait around to hear him retaliate. I couldn’t risk him seeing me break down. Because I could already feel it—the water welling behind my eyes. For a moment, I almost walked straight for the exit. But I spotted Caleb, his back to the room, at the bar. It felt rude to leave without saying goodbye, to him at least. He’d been my friend tonight, and I was certain he’d be my friend now.

  I approached him just as he was turning around, with two drinks in hand, and he bumped straight into me. The two drinks soaked my skin and the entire front of my dress.

  Perfect.

  Just freaking perfect.

  It was the cherry on top of this shit sundae of a night.

  But Caleb handled the situation. He led me out of the crowded room before I started to really make a scene of crying in front of people. His apology on behalf of his brother seemed genuine. He even offered to take me out for pizza, probably his attempt at damage control. I got the impression he had to be on Ollie Damage Control Duty often.

  “Pizza sounds amazing right now,” I told him. “But I’d rather just go back to my hotel room, change out of thi
s dress, and try to forget I ever met Ollie.”

  “Can I at least walk you out? Get the limo for you?”

  I nodded.

  He offered his arm, which I took. I leaned against him as we walked. Because my heart ached, and I needed the comfort.

  Outside, I returned his coat. Oh crap—the liquid he spilled on me had smudged the foundation that was supposed to be ‘streak free.’ Earlier, with Sydney’s expertise, I’d used it to coat my chest, neck, and face, and now there was a fair amount on his tux jacket. Utterly humiliating! He didn’t notice as I handed it back—the dark night helped hide it. But my insides squirmed as I pictured him noticing later tonight. Maybe he would forget I ever wore it.

  “There you are,” Rhett shouted. He and Sydney should have been here ages ago. They approached Caleb and me. “We’ve been trying to call you.”

  “What are you doing outside?”

  “We couldn’t get in. We weren’t on the list. I feel like I’m stuck in the movie Night at the Roxbury. We even tried bribing the people at the door. It didn’t work, and I’ve been trying to get ahold of Nate West all evening,” Rhett explained. Nate West was an acquaintance of mine and a good friend of Rhett’s. He was an actor, and the one who’d had the connections to get us the third ticket to this gala in the first place. I guess there was a mix-up along the way.

  “I can get you in,” Caleb offered.

  “Thanks, man—Ollie, right?” Rhett said, shaking Caleb’s hand.

  “No. Caleb Mills.”

  Rhett shot me a confused looked. But didn’t press it.

  “What happened to your dress?” Sydney noticed suddenly, interrupting the greeting. Because when it came to girls at a fancy party like this, our dresses were everything.

  “I’m so sorry.” The dress was actually hers.

  “That’s okay. Dry cleaning should fix it.”

  “It was my fault,” Caleb told her. “I can pay for the dry cleaning.”

  “I’m just worried about tonight and the party, and Ollie. Let’s swap dresses.” Sydney had on an equally gorgeous hunter-green gown. And she was such a sweet person, she was ready to trade her dry dress for my wet dress, no questions asked.