Ambrosia (Book Boyfriend Series 2)

by Erin Noelle

  When I got home, I hit Mason’s name on my call list and braced myself for what I knew was going to be a tough conversation.

  “Angel,” he answered.

  “Hey, I got your message,” I said flatly.

  “I’m so sorry about this, Scarlett. You know I wouldn’t do it unless it was really important.”

  Afraid I would lose my nerve if I waited any longer, I unloaded on him. “When do I become really important, Mason? I haven’t seen you in over a month. You told me you would come home every week, and I have seen you once.”

  “Angel, you know I have to do these shows. Right now, it’s about getting us out there as much as possible. I miss you like crazy; there’s nothing I want more than to come home to you, but when I agreed to commit to this with these guys, I didn’t know—”

  “Yeah, I get that. I know I wasn’t around, and I really do understand, but it doesn’t change the fact that I always come after them and the music, and I’m tired of never being first. I don’t want to sound like a selfish brat, but it’s like you’re not even trying. You do whatever your whore of a manager tells you to do, like her little puppet. If you turned down one show, would it be that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things? No, it wouldn’t, but you’re too afraid of standing up to her for some reason, and I’m the one who gets to sit here alone. You moved me into this apartment, claiming it would be easier for us to be together the nights you stayed in Houston, but the problem is you’re never in Houston. Instead, I get to look around this place and be reminded of you all the time and the fact that you’re not here!”

  “Angel—” he tried to cut in.

  “Stop, let me finish. This isn’t what I signed up for, Mason. I love you and I miss you and I want to be with you, but this isn’t being with someone. One five-minute phone call a day isn’t a relationship. I feel like you’re ready to move on with your life, and I don’t blame you for that. I know you love your music, and I really hope you become a huge success. But I can’t help but feel like I don’t fit into that future. You’re there and going places. I’m here and going to school.”

  “Hang on one sec. Someone’s knocking on the door,” he said.

  I rolled my eyes and sighed. I heard him answer the door and then several male voices in the background. Mason then said to his friends, “I’ll be right there. Yeah, I know. I’ll meet you in the car in five.”

  “Okay, sorry, that was Cruz. He’s ready to go.”

  “Yeah, I heard, and please stop saying you’re sorry for everything. God, it makes me feel awful that you’re always having to apologize to me,” I said, frustrated at the entire conversation. “Look, go do what you’ve gotta do. You’ve got people who need you. I just want you to really think about what you want and where you see this going. I can’t do this by myself, and that’s what I feel I’m doing right now. So let me know what you want, but something’s gotta change, Mase.”

  I hung up the phone without saying anything else and before he could reply. Ten seconds later, it vibrated in my hand with a text.

  Mason (3:22 p.m.): You forgot to say I love you.

  Me (3:23 p.m.): You know I love you, but sometimes that’s not enough.

  Mason (3:35 p.m.): Don’t be stubborn. I love you.

  I decided to take a nap before going to Mina’s party. I felt terrible. I didn’t know what to think about anything anymore, and I just wanted to sleep and make it all go away for a little while. I didn’t think I was being unreasonable to want to see him more than once a month, to talk to him more than one short phone call each day, but I also knew I was playing with fire by basically giving him an ultimatum—change or else. I laid my head down on the pillow and passed out within seconds.

  The room was pitch-black when I woke up. I looked over to the alarm clock and saw it was eight fifteen. Shit! I had slept way too long. I sent Mina a quick text that I was running a bit late and would meet her at 9:30, and I began getting ready.

  I had never been to a bachelorette party before; Mina was my only crazy friend getting married at twenty. I wasn’t quite sure what to wear, but I knew we were going to a dueling piano bar to begin the night. Mina had told me that she had a fake ID for me, and I hoped it wouldn’t be an issue. Nonetheless, I opted to dress up a bit more than I normally did, in hopes I looked a little older.

  An hour later, I was dressed in a form-fitting black sleeveless dress that hit midthigh, with black strappy heels. The dress was very plain in the front, but the back was absolutely stunning— completely fabric-less down to the small of my back. I applied my makeup heavier than I usually wore it and styled my hair in an up-do with loose tendrils to leave my back exposed.

  Looking in the mirror, I hardly recognized the young woman staring back at me. Evie would’ve been so proud of how I looked, but I couldn’t help but wonder what she would think about everything else going on. I hadn’t had time to mentally revisit my last conversation with Mason since waking up from my nap, and as the insecurities and uncertainties of where my life was going loomed over me, I took a deep breath and put up a mental block. I didn’t have time to analyze any of that. I needed to go out and have a good time and ensure Mina had a memorable night. I needed a break from thinking.

  At a little after one in the morning, the limo pulled up to Empty’s and all of us girls spilled out, giggling and acting silly from way too much alcohol consumption. We had a blast at the piano bar, singing and dancing, and had ended up spending the entire night there before coming to our home base. We were supposed to meet Noah and all the guys from the bachelor party there for a nightcap. As usual, the guys had claimed their normal table, each sitting in the same chair they always sat in.

  Even though I knew they had seen us come in, I jokingly sneaked up behind Max, put my hands over his eyes, and whispered, “Guess who.”

  “Hmmm. I bet it’s someone dressed in pink,” he joked.

  “Wrong. No pink at all tonight,” I said, laughing as I dropped my hands and allowed him to spin around to face me.

  “Wow! Look at you girls. Impressive,” he complimented all of us standing around the table. Mina was already in Noah’s lap, licking his neck like a ravenous nymph. I couldn’t help but chuckle at the two of them. Max slung one arm around my shoulders and joined me in laughing at the PDA clinic being put on by the engaged lovebirds.

  All of a sudden, my face got really flushed and I felt a bit nauseous. Assuming it was the excessive amount of alcohol that had finally caught up with me, I excused myself to the restroom to splash my face with water and cool off. While I was in the stall, I checked my phone to see I had missed a call and message from Mason. I felt bad for acting selfish and immature earlier in the day and wanted to tell him how much I loved him and couldn’t wait to see him in the morning. Without listening to the message, I hit the Call Back button on my phone and waited for him to answer.

  “Hello?” a female voice said into the phone, and I immediately knew who it was.

  “Let me talk to Mason, Bentley,” I demanded.

  “He’s in the shower right now. Can I take a message?” she asked in a fake-ass sweet voice.

  “Really? He’s in the shower? Where are y’all?” I had only thought my face was flushed before. She was going to cause me to burst into flames I was so hot.

  “We are at his apartment. Is this Scarlett?”

  “Yes, this is Scarlett. Why are you there, and why is he in the shower?” Alcohol had pretty much erased any filters I may have normally had when speaking to her.

  Giggling into the phone, she said, “We have been celebrating Jobu’s Rum invitation to go on tour with VanderBlue, and things got a little out of control, so he needed a shower.”

  “Who’s all there? Let me talk to Cruz or Sophie,” I spat.

  “It’s just me and Rat here, angel,” her voice morphed from sugary sweet to mega-bitch. “He and I had a long talk tonight, and I think it’s time you just flew on along to someone else. He’s gonna be gone for the next six months and does
n’t have time to babysit or worry about you anymore. Don’t worry though; I’ll be sure to take good care of him. I’ve had plenty of practice and know just what he likes.”

  Just then, I heard Mason’s voice in the background call out, “B? Where are you? Bring me that towel right now!”

  In a whisper, she returned to the phone and said, “Gotta go, he’s ready for round two,” before hanging up on me.

  Sitting there staring at my phone, my body began to tremble with pure rage. I could not believe the conversation that had just taken place. He didn’t even have the decency to talk to me and tell me he didn’t want to do this anymore before hooking up with her of all people. I couldn’t believe that just happened. What was I going to do? Where was I going to live? Holy shit.

  I didn’t know what to do next, but I knew sitting in the bathroom stall alone wasn’t going to fix anything. I decided I needed another drink, and I would just deal with all of it later. It was the only thing I could think of to numb me to the overpowering despair that was slowly taking over.

  I rejoined the party out in the bar, trying to look like nothing happened, that my life had not just changed with one phone call. Unfortunately, Max knew something was wrong the moment he saw my face.

  He motioned for me to join him, and I scurried over to his chair.

  “What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked, concerned.

  “I need a drink,” I answered.

  “Ok, I’ll get you a drink, but what happened? You were in such a good mood when you got here.”

  “It’s over between Mason and me. He’s with Bentley again,” I replied emotionlessly. Operation: Shutdown was underway.

  “What do you mean?” he asked unbelievingly.

  “I just got off the phone with ‘em. Jobu’s Rum is going on tour with VanderBlue, and Mason and Bentley got back together tonight,” I answered. Turning around to look at him, I pleaded with him, “Can we get out of here? I just want to get somewhere so I can drink until I pass out. I just want to not think about anything for a while.”

  Without saying another word, he grabbed my hand and pulled me through the bar, out the door, and put me in his car. Luckily, my car was already close to his place, since he lived at the same apartment complex as Noah and Mina. We pulled into his parking spot after a short, silent road trip, and I followed him inside. He led me straight to the kitchen and grabbed two shot glasses from the cabinet.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” His piercing blue eyes had just as much pain in them as I felt.

  “Pour them,” I responded.

  He grabbed a bottle of tequila from the freezer and filled up each of the tiny glasses. We both grabbed one and held it out in the air to toast.

  “To forgetting it all… at least for tonight,” he offered.

  “To forgetting it all,” I repeated. We clinked our glasses together and tossed the potent liquid down the backs of our throats, slamming the empties to the bar. I shuddered as I felt the burn down my spine but couldn’t help but smile a bit once it settled.

  Max held up the bottle and asked, “Another?”

  Greedy to further escape the sorrow and destruction I felt, I nodded.

  Six shots later for each of us, Max and I moved to the couch in his living room, joking around, flipping through the channels. I had stolen the remote from him when he left it on a sports talk show for entirely too long, and he lunged at me to try to get it back. I unsteadily jumped off the couch, just out of his reach, and took off running around his apartment, trying to keep it from him. He chased after me, and due to the lack of places to run and my being way more than a little tipsy, he had me cornered quickly. We were both laughing so hard we could barely move, but instead of conceding defeat, I made a final attempt to escape. As I tried to run by him, he slung his arm around my waist and tackled me onto the couch.

  I couldn’t stop giggling as he tried to wrestle the remote out of my hands. Lying flat on my back with him straddling my thighs, he tried to use his weight to hold me in place. Changing his strategy, he began to tickle me to see if I would drop the treasured item, which I did… over the arm of the couch above my head.

  “You little brat!” he joked. He stretched his body forward, hovering over mine, and reached over the furniture to grab the remote off of the floor. As he brought his arm back over and rocked his weight backward, his body rubbed against mine and I whimpered. His stormy eyes shot to mine and I swallowed hard.

  He relaxed his body so that he was lying on top of me but not crushing me with his weight. Our faces were mere inches from one another, and I couldn’t do anything to control the pounding of my heart or the fluttering in my stomach. He leaned his forehead down so it was touching mine.

  “Scarlett,” he breathed.

  “Max,” I whispered back.

  In the few silent moments that followed our names being spoken, as we looked helplessly lost in each other’s eyes, the thought crossed my mind that these drunken tequila nights I read about over and over again never ended up good. But despite that knowledge, when he brought his hand to my face and began brushing his thumb back and forth on my cheek, I closed my eyes and leaned my face into his touch. I felt his cock jerk against my thigh, and I muffled my moan.

  “Look at me, Scarlett,” he said quietly.

  I opened my eyes and looked at his handsome face.

  “I wanna kiss you so fucking bad right now,” he confessed. His words made me clamp my legs together, trying to ignore the building ache.

  Allowing the tequila to block out all the reasons why his idea was a really horrible one, and instead remembering what we had toasted to with our first shot of the night—to forgetting it all—I selfishly replied, “Then kiss me.”

  Mason

  I had been looking forward to going home to see Scarlett since the minute I left her the last time. Living apart was fucking killing me; I had already decided when I went back for the bachelor party weekend that I was going to ask her to move in with me, since her semester was over. I just couldn’t handle it anymore. My stress level when I wasn’t with her was out of control, and I had basically become a dick to be around. I was constantly struggling internally about the right thing to do by her or by the band and knew that if she lived in Austin with me, I could do both.

  I hated the fact that I wasn’t able to make Noah’s bachelor party, but even more because it was one more night I spent away from my angel. I had good intentions of going back to see her at least weekly, but our schedule had been so incredibly busy that all I did was eat, sing, and sleep. However, I knew when Bentley told me who was going to be at the show and why we had to play that there was no option. I called the guys and told them about the delay, and we got our asses ready as soon as possible.

  The afternoon phone conversation with Scarlett had gone less than ideal. I knew she was frustrated with how the first month had gone—shit, so was I—but I had no idea she was as pissed as she was. How could she even think I didn’t see her as a part of my future? Did she even listen to me when I talked to her sometimes? I knew I just needed to get through this performance and then I could get home to her to talk, and possibly fuck, some sense into her. I didn’t want to be without her for another day.

  Knowing what was at stake in that one performance—the opportunity to open for a chart-topping band—I felt nerves in my stomach for the first time in years before grabbing the microphone. I knew halfway through our first song that we were on and sounded good; I only hoped the people who mattered agreed. We waited in a back room for Bentley after our set, unsure if we would find out the decision immediately. After what seemed like hours, she walked in with a huge smile on her face and told us to pack out bags, because we were going on a long road trip.

  Elated did not even begin to describe the overwhelming feeling of joy I experienced when I heard the words come out of her mouth. After we all congratulated one another, I couldn’t wait to call Scarlett and tell her the good news, even though I knew she was out with Mina an
d the girls. I hoped she’d at least have a chance to check her messages at some point. Hearing her voice on the greeting brought a smile to my face, and I left her a short message.

  “Hey, Scarlett, please give me a call when you get a chance. I’ve got something important I want to tell you.”

  I headed back to my apartment to get a good night’s rest before making the drive the following morning. I had just gotten settled and was about to jump in the shower when I heard a knock on the door. Assuming it was one of my bandmates, I opened the door with just a towel wrapped around me to see Bentley standing there in a nearly sheer nightgown.

  Her eyes roaming up and down my body, she asked, “Do you have any milk I can borrow?” she purred.

  “Milk? Really? At nearly two in the fucking morning, you need milk?” Her attempts to get me to sleep with her were borderline pathetic, and I was getting tired of telling her to leave me alone. It also pissed me off that she asked for milk, because that made me think of Scarlett and her milk obsession, and I remembered it was Bentley’s fault I hadn’t seen her in over a month.

  Pushing her way past me into my place, she griped, “God, you don’t have to be such an asshole. Fine, I’ll leave you alone. You got all fucking boring anyway. What did she do to you? Suck all the fun out? You don’t drink, smoke, go out… nothing anymore. What kind of rock star are you supposed to be?”

  Ignoring all her ridiculous questions, I replied, “Help yourself to what you need from the kitchen. I’m getting in the shower. Lock the door on your way out please.”

  When I got out of the shower I noticed the towel I had out was missing. That fucking bitch. I yelled out, “B? Where are you? Bring me that towel right now!”

  I climbed back into the shower to be hidden from her, and a minute or so later, she sauntered in with my towel across her arm. “Oh come on, Rat, it’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before. You’re pathetic.”