His looks combined with his reclusiveness made him irresistible to women. Under the theory that the way to get over a girl was to get one under you, all of us in LTZ took turns trying to get him to partake in the bounty of beautiful ladies at our disposal. He had no interest whatsoever and was back to the chaste existence he lived before Zoey.
My wistful thoughts of Alex and the night we shared had been pushed into the back of my mind. I certainly hadn’t disclosed it to Ty or anyone else for that matter. Furious at Zoey for eviscerating Ty’s feelings, I hadn’t kept my promise to stay in touch and ignored all her messages until she stopped texting me. A little time and space made me realize that she’d been as blindsided as the rest of us, but I never reached back out.
Zane and I most definitely became each other’s wingman. We’d partied and fucked our way across the US with women of every size and shape and ethnicity, which for a while was my teenage fantasy come true. My sisters would give me shit, but they didn’t really need to. Reality was setting in for me. The more well-known we became, the more I was starting to get grossed out at getting with random, naked women. Monotonous blowjobs and hurried fucks in strange and often public locations were sordid and dirty and utilitarian. It reminded me that no sex came close to the night with Alex.
I was pretty sure that no night ever would.
Things took a weird turn when Alex reached back out to me a few months later and asked, on behalf of Zoey, to remove all traces of her from LTZ’s social. It meant that I had to let Ty know I was in contact with his ex’s best friend and tell him that Zoey had indirectly reached out to me but still wouldn’t speak to Ty. I was furious because it put me in a horrible position. I refused to take any action without Ty’s approval, and he was visibly crushed but acquiesced immediately. Even after she hurt him deeply, he still wanted to take care of her.
Alex tried to defend Zoey, which I found somewhat endearing because she was a loyal friend. I was loyal too—to Ty. He was my priority. It took six solid weeks to chase down all of the links and posts and get them removed. Ty’s utter devastation at knowing the love of his life would be erased from LTZ’s history was gut-wrenching. Those memories were what he clung to and kept him going. Now they were dust. The aftermath was agonizing. He retreated even further into his shell. His confidence was completely shot.
After that incident, I was ready to erase Alex out of my life for good in solidarity with our lead singer. I unfollowed her social, which had grown to epic proportions over the past few months. When I lost my phone, I took the opportunity to get a new number. Consequently, we lost touch.
A few months later, I received word that I was to be included in a photo shoot for Vanity Fair with other social media influencers. Glancing through the list, I was surprised to see that Alex was also invited. Apparently, she was in the throes of her own meteoric success and her reach had grown. She now had over five million followers. With those numbers, I couldn’t help but be proud of her exceeding her modest goals. People were probably paying her phenomenal money to endorse their products and her travel expenses were likely now covered in full.
Knowing we’d see each other in New York in the fall for the photo shoot, I refollowed her and sent a DM apologizing for being a shithead, together with my new phone number. Graciously, she replied, and we occasionally texted back and forth. Not before setting some ground rules, agreeing to keep our own friendship a friendship only and completely separate from the romantic drama of our BFFs (her words, not mine).
I hadn’t realized how much I needed to have a connection with a friend who had known me before I became famous. Sure, I had my family and friends at home, and my sister Jen was my rock. But, Alex was sorta famous too in her own right, so it was like having the best of both worlds. We could relate to this strange new life where people recognized us. We also knew each other for the people we were before the fame.
She and I had similar feelings about our new normal. Even though I was the least photographed member of the band, it was shocking to me at how many fan sites were dedicated to me. I was used to Ty and Zane being recognized, but now I couldn’t be out in public for too long without people figuring out who I was. To my utter humiliation, Alex had gleefully shared links to a few social accounts that were dedicated to me. “VikingJace” had over a million followers where fans tagged pictures of my hair. “OFaceJace” was newer but had close to three million followers and was filled with pictures of expressions I made when I played.
Although she didn’t have any embarrassing fan sites, Alex found it crazy that she was actually a “brand.” As a coveted “influencer,” companies paid her stupid money to pose with their products or visit their stores. Resorts begged her to stay in their finest rooms fully comped. Tourist boards of cities all over Europe invited her as a VIP. Billionaires wanted to pay her crazy money to join them on their yachts for a weekend, which so far, she had declined. But she taunted me mercilessly one night about changing her mind for the money.
We both loved what we were doing, though she was winning in the seeing-the-world department. None of us in the band were able to enjoy the cities we were playing in; our schedule was just too hectic. Living vicariously through her adventures, which were increasingly exotic, I was a bit envious that she had so much flexibility with her schedule. She was following her heart by volunteering at a horse rescue on Ibiza where she planned to stay the entire summer during the European tourist season.
My heart was strangely happy that we were back on good terms. My memories of our night together triggered something hopeful about seeing her again. When we got our tour dates, I realized Ibiza was only to be a hopper plane trip away from our show in Barcelona. I nearly invited her but had second thoughts thinking about how awkward it would be. No one but us knew we’d slept together. No one but us knew about our burgeoning friendship. Explaining her sudden presence to the guys, especially Ty, would be too weird.
I was still looking forward to Barcelona, the European tour gave us a lot more time in between shows. After the festival, we had three days off before the next gig. I had plans to take at least one day off to play tourist. Perhaps with a cute local girl to show me the sights.
Strolling the grounds of the festival on the day before the show, I filmed a lot of the set-up process for our social. Taking in the production from the stage rigging, to signage to catering, I was fascinated by the frenzy of activities all around me. Watching dozens of staff running around with their walkie talkies made me feel so appreciative. So much went into the event. Soaking in the buzzing atmosphere gratefully, it felt surreal to have come so far. A year ago, we were preparing for the Mission show. Now, we were near the top of the bill on the main stage of one of the largest festivals in Europe.
Insanity.
The next day, despite the unbearably hot late-July temperature, the show was easily one of our best. Ty was in a rare good mood, probably because there were close to 100,000 screaming fans singing the words to our songs. So powerful. The energy at an event this size was unlike anything we’d experienced so far, our biggest show in the States had been half the size. It was impossible for our singer to brood when the fans loved us so much. His insane performance spurred all of us to new heights, and it was the most incredible experience of our career.
Playing this high on the bill to crowds of this size meant that we had achieved yet another new milestone. With the success, we had additional responsibilities. Unlike when we were openers, LTZ wasn’t done when we played our last encore. Generally, there were two levels of meet-and-greets with fans who paid top dollar to get their picture taken with us and LTZ swag signed. These after-show interactions were crucial to developing a strong fan base, so our management made it mandatory for us all to participate.
Once the Barcelona show was over, we quickly showered and changed in our dressing room and were ushered by a publicist through a makeshift corridor into an outdoor VIP area for the top-tier meet-and-greet event. Exclusive because it was so expensive, ther
e weren’t a lot of people who were allowed in. That was part of the draw, these fans were willing to pay to get one on one time with each of us.
As usual, Zane and I did the heavy lifting with the fans, we both enjoyed interacting with them and knew how to keep the VIPs happy. Zane could and would happily chat all night long with anyone and everyone. My talent was enabling him to ease out of conversations gracefully in order to keep things moving. Connor had no patience, but he pasted on a smile and bumbled through. Ty did the bare minimum, rarely spoke, and disappeared as soon as it was humanly possible. Oddly, it made the fans rabid for our elusive singer.
The Barcelona VIP area was a sight to behold, full of lush greenery and twinkly lights. An amazing spread of both hot and cold tapas lined the walls, Cava was flowing. Immediately, my eye was drawn to a tall girl with a hot-pink, shaggy bob, wearing aviator sunglasses. She was leaning against a willowy tree sipping a martini and checking her phone wearing a scant, black, silky slip dress that barely reached mid-thigh and draped gorgeously on her thin but muscled frame. My eyes traveled down to her incredibly long legs accentuated by spiky knee-high boots, which were held together by about thirty dainty buckles, exposing skin all the way down to her pastel-blue-painted toes.
Hallelujah! I’ve found my tourist girl.
She hadn’t only caught my attention, Zane was staring at her too. Luck was on my side because he was sidetracked by some Spanish royalty dude who wanted guitar lessons. I was about to make my move when Pinkie noticed I was staring at her. Smiling wide, she held the cocktail up in a toast from across the room. Still technically on the clock, I wasn’t drinking, but I nodded and toasted from across the room with my water bottle. Her smile lit up and she beckoned me over.
“Hi, I’m Jace.” Slipping into my band VIP persona, I stuck my hand out to her.
Silently, she held her hand out to me with nails that were painted in the same shade of blue as her toes, her lips curved in a bemused smirk.
“And you are?” I encouraged, hoping she spoke English. I gallantly clasped her hand in both of mine.
The gorgeous girl just smiled and shrugged. Shit, I thought. She doesn’t speak English.
“Are you here with someone?” I gestured around the area.
She just smiled at me saying nothing, her eyes hidden by the mirrored lenses of her glasses.
Zane shouted out my name to take a picture with the royalty guy and the rest of the band, so I held my finger up to her, hopefully indicating in some rudimentary sign language that she should stay put. Quickly, I fulfilled the last of my obligations for the night, never letting her out of my peripheral vision. By the time we were finished, Pinkie had moved over to a seating area and was watching me from one of the overstuffed chairs. Her long, tan legs encased in the sexy boots were crossed in front of her.
By then, Ty and Connor had left, and Zane’s attention luckily shifted to finalizing plans with a young heiress and her friends to go clubbing. Finally, I made my way to the couch to join the scrumptious mystery girl.
“Hi, again,” I said sitting next to her.
“Ello,” she said with a weird accent, still smiling.
“What’s your name?” I raised my eyebrows.
“Poppy,” she said in the odd dialect, though it also sounded strangely familiar.
I squinted, looking at her closely, and recognition dawned on me, and I reached up and pulled her sunglasses off.
“Alex! Holy hell! What are you doing here!” My eyes must have been wide as saucers.
“Shhhh! I’m in disguise!” She nodded over at Zane, then laughed until she had tears in her eyes and continued in her terrible accent. “Tonight, my name is Poppy.”
“Nice to meet you, Poppy.” I joined in her laughter. “It fits because you’re crazy!”
“I couldn’t let you know it was me until Ty left.” She looked around. “I did see him leave, right?”
“Yeah, he’s not a fan of the social aspects of the job.” I glanced around.
“How is he?” She asked sincerely.
“Devastated. Still.” I said sadly. “He’s getting better at hiding it, but I don’t think he’ll ever get over Zoey.”
“I need to talk to you about all of that, but not here.” She said quietly.
“We agreed not to—” I started.
“This is important. But not here.”
“Okay, well I’m done, let’s go do something. Wait here and I’ll be right back.” I motioned for her to stay put while I grabbed my things.
Moving like lightning, I ran back to the dressing room for my backpack, took a second to post pics of the VIP party to social, and then I chatted with Bodie, my drum tech. Within ten minutes I was back to retrieve Alex from the party and bring her through the labyrinth of pathways to where the tour buses were parked.
“How long are you in Barcelona?” I asked as we ducked into my waiting car.
“Only until the day after tomorrow. I wasn’t planning to be here but got offered ten thousand euros to post myself attending the festival today.” She shrugged good-naturedly. “I couldn’t say no.”
“Seriously? You’re making more per day than I do!” I laughed. “We’ve gone double platinum but haven’t seen a decent royalty check yet.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty sweet. They put me up in a hotel, it’s nice. Wait! Do you want to come back there with me?” She wrinkled her nose as if she didn’t mean to blurt out the offer.
“Do you think I’m going to say no to that?” I put my arm around her, and she showed the driver the address of her hotel.
“Well, I’m not your typical skank groupie.” She gently slugged me in the shoulder.
“Thank God.” I leaned closer and breathed her in, she still smelled like a tropical summer breeze on an ocean.
“Are you smelling me?” She looked at me incredulously.
“You smell amazing.” I pulled her leg up over mine and stroked her muscled calf.
“You smell amazing.” She lay her head down on my shoulder, sniffed my neck, and then her blue eyes blinked up at me.
“You look gorgeous.” I touched my lips to hers.
We looked into each other’s eyes as we softly kissed. With the tip of my tongue, I traced the seam of where her lips met, probing gently until she opened for me. Nestling her closer against me, I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, so she was nearly on top of me. Satisfied, I stroked her inner thigh under the skimpy dress she wore. Her nipples were beaded into tight nubs, clearly visible through the thin fabric of her black dress. My dick was hard as a rock against her hip.
“Jace—” She gripped my hand when I inched closer to her pussy.
“Oh, God. Alex.” I immediately stopped what I was doing. “I’m sorry, I just thought . . .”
“Oh, you thought right. It’s happening. I just want to get this thing I need to tell you off my chest first.” She squirmed off my lap into the seat next to me and smoothed her dress back down.
“Fine.” I was so goddamn horny, and now a little annoyed. “What is it?”
“I found out what happened with Zoey.” She clasped her hands together in her lap and looked down. “It’s not good.”
“We agreed it wasn’t our business, Poppy.” I crossed my arms and slumped back into my seat.
“Well, it also wasn’t Carter’s business.” She fixed her stare at me. “Do you know what he did?”
She didn’t have many details, but she explained that Carter had told Zoey to break up with Ty so that he could have a chance at living his rock star dream without being tied down. Apparently, he told her that it was for her own good since Ty would likely cheat on her after being on the road for so long. I couldn’t comprehend how or why he’d do that to our singer, who had been struggling with severe depression since Zoey left.
“Fuck me. I’ve got to tell Ty.” My face was buried in my hands, he was going to feel so betrayed.
“I know.” Alex stroked my forearm.
“This could break up the band,�
�� I mumbled through my fingers. “Fuckity fuck.”
“Zoey moved to Texas, you know. Just to get away from everything. She’s not the same person, she’s buried in schoolwork. I barely talk to her anymore.” Alex looked a bit devastated by this.
“Why would Carter do this?” I looked at her, knowing that she probably didn’t have the answers.
“All she would say is that Carter was convinced that Ty would give up the band to be with her.” Alex nestled back under my arm. “He told her that all of you guys thought so.”
“That’s so manipulative.” I was appalled. “I’ll admit, Zane and I talked to him about it casually. Neither of us could understand why Ty wanted to get so serious at his age, but it’s his life.”
“Well, she was really conflicted until the night they—um.” Alex scrunched her nose.
“Actually did the deed,” I said helpfully.
“Um, yeah. He confessed that he didn’t want to go on tour, that he would rather move with her up to Bellingham. After that, she didn’t feel like she had a choice.” Alex paused as if thinking about whether she wanted to say more. “That’s why she’s disappeared, she wanted Ty and you guys to have this chance without her holding any of you back.”
“This is all so dramatic. And fucked up.” I shook my head in disgust.
“Yeah. I felt the same way, but she loved him.” Alex sighed. “She thought it was the only way.”
“Well, maybe talking to him would have been a better idea.” I opened and closed my fist. “I don’t understand this at all.”
“Me either. All I know is that my best friend is so heartbroken that she’s a shell of her former self. She’s lost twenty pounds, easily. And, in case you were wondering, I’ve never told her about what happened with us.”
“Ah. Well, I’ve never told anyone either.” I gripped her slender hand in mine. “As you can plainly see, Ty’s still a wreck too. He’s doing his best for us, but he’s not all the way there.”
LIMITLESS: A Less Than Zero Rockstar Romance: Book 2: Jace & Alex Page 8