Tainted: The Complete Enemies-to-Lovers Rock Star Romance Box Set

by Carmen Jenner

  Levi laughs. I pick up the twisty top from the champagne and throw it at him.

  After another glass and a lot more driving through the desolate Mojave Desert, we pull up to a huge house with a sandstone privacy fence surrounding it. Bobby speaks into an intercom, telling a disembodied voice that Mr Levi Quinn and guest have arrived, and it hits me. I’m about to meet Josh Holme. I’m about to meet the man who made me fall arse-over-head in love with rock music. I’m about to pee my pants. Oh my god, I need to pee real bad. I stare at Levi and the bastard chuckles. He’s laughing at me.

  “Calm down, Red. He’s just a person. Just like you and me.”

  “He is not a person. Josh Holme is not a fucking person. He’s a legend, a god. He’s rock royalty, he’s ... oh god, he’s in that building, there’s just a courtyard and several inches worth of wall separating his body from mine.”

  “Okay, breathe, and calm the fuck down. I’m not gonna take you in there if you’re gonna behave like a fucking fangirl.”

  “I told you,” I shriek, “I told you I’d freak. I told you my inner fangirl could not be stopped, but you didn’t listen, and now it’s too late. It’s too late for all of us.”

  We drive through the gate and I open my door before the car has even pulled to a stop, and then I’m out and running for Josh’s front door. I hear Levi swear and I’m pretty sure that dull thud was the sound of his champagne glass flying across the interior of the car as he chases after me. I press the doorbell, only I’m so excited I can’t retract my finger, so the button sticks and it just keeps ringing, and I have no way to make it stop because I’m frozen in fangirl fear. Levi catches up to me and throws his arm around my shoulder, keeping me reined in.

  “Okay, babe, if you go in like that he’s going to toss us both out on our arses before we even set foot inside. Where’s the bad-tempered woman I know and love so much? You never behaved this way in front of us.”

  “That’s because you’re not Josh Holme, you can’t be Josh Holme.” I shake my head “You will never be Josh Holme.”

  “Gee, thanks, Red. You really know how to boost a man’s ego.”

  “You’ll never ever be Josh,” I whisper, making sure we’re clear on this point.

  The door opens and Dave Growl—former drummer of inarguably one of the greatest bands of all time, and Rock and Roll Hall Of Fame Inductee—stands before me in all his resplendent bearded glory. My mouth gapes open, and apparently I no longer possess the brainpower to close it.

  “Hey man, long time no see,” Dave says, shaking Levi’s hand in a complicated rock-star handshake.

  “Yeah, it’s been, what? Two months?”

  Dave nods. “Bowie’s party, right? Dude, Coop was so fucking wasted that night. Where the hell is he?”

  “Passed out in a puddle of drool, no doubt,” Levi says. “Fucking lightweight.”

  “Can’t say I blame him. If my wife up and left me with my unborn kid, I’d want to drown in liquor too.”

  “Dave Growl just answered Josh’s door,” I whisper to Levi, but from the look on Dave’s face, I’m thinking it wasn’t so much a whisper as it was shouting.

  “Who’s this?” Dave asks, looking me over for the first time. Oh my god, Dave Growl is looking at me.

  “This is Red. She’s our PA.”

  “Nice to meet you, Red,” Dave says, but it doesn’t sound like he thinks it’s nice, and he’s looking at Levi as if he thinks he’s fucking crazy for bringing a fangirl into Josh’s house. I need to calm the hell down. I need a drink. I need—I don’t know what the hell I need. A paper bag and a fluffy blanket. I don’t like my chances of getting any of that here, so I just continue to stand there and tremor ever so slightly until Dave urges us farther inside the house.

  “Be cool, babe,” Levi says, tightening his arm around my shoulder. And I take a deep breath, but then we round the corner into a lounge room and, Infected, the game I’ve been waiting more than a year and a half for, is projected on the giant plasma screen TV and whoever is manning the controller is butchering the shit out of it, and not playing it properly.

  “You’re butchering it!” I shout. Because they are. I’ve been waiting so long to get my hands on this game and when I finally do see it firsthand, some idiot is ruining the entire experience. My eyes glue to the TV screen as I round the couch and sit down hard on the squishy sofa.

  “Hey Levi, how’s it going? Who’s this fucking bitch you brought into my house, man?”

  “Hey man, this is Ali. She’s our PA.”

  “Hi.” I turn and give him a weak smile.

  “I’m Josh.”

  “I know,” I squeak, and then because I get nervous around real rock stars, my brain decides that my mouth should just start spewing every single thought in my head, “I’m sorry, but you don’t realise how long I’ve waited to play this game, and to come in and find you slaughtering it, it just ... I really need a paper bag and a fluffy blanket. I really, really need a fluffy blanket.”

  Josh looks at Levi with wide eyes. “Is she high?”

  “Nope, that’s just Ali.”

  “You’re Josh Holme,” I whisper, taking in all of his face, the creases at the corners of his eyes, the ginger scruff lining his jaw.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “You’re Josh Holme, and I’m here and in your house, and you’re ruining the greatest video game known to mankind, and why hasn’t someone given me a fluffy blanket?” I say, and my voice reaches a whole new level of crazy. I can’t breathe. “I really need a fluffy blanket.”

  “Okay, take a deep breath, darlin’,” Josh says, gently grasping the tops of my shoulders.

  “You’re Josh Holme, and you’re touching me.”

  “Uh huh.” He glances over my shoulder to someone behind me and says, “Get a fluffy blanket, for fuck’s sake.”

  Seconds later Dave lays a soft black blanket with the Kings of the Iron Age logo over my lap. My hands automatically latch onto it and I rub the soft fabric between my thumbs and forefingers.

  “This is a really fluffy blanket,” I whisper, staring at the screen because if I stare at Josh I’m going to lose my shit. I mean, lose my shit even more.

  “You can keep it,” Josh says, as if he’s talking to a mental patient, and maybe I do need to be committed because ... I’m in Josh Holme’s fucking house under his fluffy blanket that he just gave to me, and I’m in his house and on his couch and ... wow.

  “I can?” I whisper.

  “Sure. It’s all yours.”

  “That’s really nice of you.”

  “Hey Red, why don’t you show Josh how it’s done?”

  “Oh I couldn’t—”

  “Take the fucking controller, babe,” Levi says. Okay, so I’m definitely acting like I need to be committed. What the hell hope do I have of a career in the music industry if I fall apart and fangirl and demand fluffy blankets from mega stars? I don’t need a damn blanket; I need a bullet.

  I take the controller from Josh and try not to freak out when his hand brushes mine, and then I set about something I’ve been wanting to do for months. I kill a butt load of motherfucking scary zombies. “How do you even have this? It’s not due out for another three months.”

  He shrugs. At least, I think that’s what he’s doing. I’m not taking my eyes off the screen for a single damn second, so I’m kinda relying on periphery here. “The company send them over to me.”

  “Dude, you’re a gamer?”

  “Err ... not really.”

  “You’re not even a gamer and they send the Holy Grail of zombie games to you? Man, I have got to get famous.”

  “Keep acting the way you are, Red, and we’ll put it up on YouTube. You’ll go viral within minutes,” Levi says, and I cringe. I don’t reply though, because a zombie jumps up out of nowhere and I have to use all my nervous energy to beat the shit out of him with a broken bottle.

  More and more people arrive as the night draws out. Levi sits down on the couch beside me, and Josh
gets up to greet his guests all while I remain there under my fluffy blanket. A host of blurred faces cheer me on when I take down zombie after zombie, and I’m plied with more liquor than I’m sure is good for me. I must be more than halfway through the game when my bladder lets me know it’s really pissed off because I’ve spent the last couple of hours filling it with booze and ignoring its insistence to go tinkle. I stand up and stumble around, not having any idea of where I’m going and hoping I’ll just walk and miraculously run into a bathroom. Before long I’m careening into a wall, and Levi is propping me up.

  “Jesus, Red. Drunk much?” He says. “What are you doing?”

  “I need to pee, and I need my blanket.” I say, turning in the direction I’d just come. “Where’s my fluffy blanket?”

  “I got it. It’s here,” Levi says, holding it up, and then he turns me around and points to a door in front of us. “And the bathroom is there.”

  “Oh, thank god.”

  “Just when I think you can’t get any weirder, you go and shock the shit out of me.”

  “I like fluffy blankets. I need another drink.”

  “Are you sure? I’m thinking you’ve met your quota of embarrassing fangirl moments for the day.” He chuckles.

  “Shut up, Vlad, and find me some booze while I pee.”

  I slip into the bathroom, taking my blanket and setting it down on the pristine chaise lounge in the corner, so no one will steal it from me as I pee.

  When I’m done, Levi and I walk through the house to the enormous kitchen, where there’s food of every colour and kind spread out on the bench, and an assortment of drinks too. I slap at Levi’s chest when I see several well-known singers from rock bands whose music I grew up on snorting lines with a rolled up bill “Holy shit, is that—”

  “Yeah, you wanna come say hi?” He smiles and then adds, “Wait, are you gonna flip out and fangirl again? I want to know so I can have my camera phone ready.”

  “Shut the fuck up. It was motherfucking Josh Holme, man. Haven’t you ever pulled out your inner fanboy?”

  “Nope. I’m a rock star, baby. I don’t fangirl; I get fangirled over.”

  “You’re a cocky motherfucker who needs to be knocked down a few pegs,” I reply, taking the beer he offers me. I sip it and then squeal on the inside because I’m drinking Josh Holme’s beer.

  “Cocky is true enough,” he says. “Grab your blanky, Red. I’ll introduce you.”

  Before we can reach the others, an almighty shout goes out and Zed, Leif and Deb come barrelling towards us—or Zed comes barrelling towards us. The others just follow behind him. Zed scoops both Levi and I into a hug, squeezing me so hard I feel as if I might just snap in half.

  “I fucking love Holme’s parties. Where’s Coop? Is he here?”

  “No. He passed out,” I say, deciding to leave out the part where he kissed me and then called me Holly, and practically broke my heart in two. To think I’d deluded myself into actually wanting to sleep with him, into wanting more from that kiss.

  Shut up, Ali, you’re drunk and being a dickhead. There never has been, nor will there ever be any future with Cooper Ryan. He’s so far out of your league you may as well be an entirely different species.

  “So why are you here, then?” Deb asks, giving me a look up and down and eyeing my blanky distastefully. “Why the hell are you carrying a blanket?”

  “I ... er ...”

  “She’s here with me, and she’s holding a blanket because she fangirled Josh Holme’s arse,” Levi says.

  “Fucking amateurs,” Deb snarls under her breath.

  “Bad Debbie, bad.” Zed says, pulling Deb into his side. “Ali is our friend.”

  “Fuck you,” Deb says, shirking out of his grasp.

  Now would be a wonderful time to leave it the hell alone and just accept that she doesn’t like me, and that she probably never will like me. Now would be the time for anything other than confronting her at a rock star’s party, but ...

  “What the hell is your problem with me?” I shout, thinking that the noise of the revellers and that unbelievable bass-line Growl is playing alongside the squealing electric guitar licks coming from one of Josh’s thirty-five guitars—yes, google and I have spent many nights unravelling the mysteries of Josh Holme—will drown me out. Of course, they chose that moment to bring their session to an end, and everyone turns to look at me.

  I glance around sheepishly and then I just decide, to hell with it, I have a fluffy blanket and I’m in Josh Holme’s house, and not even Debbie Does Satan can ruin this night for me.

  “What’s my problem with you?” Debbie glares me down from as little as three feet away. It takes everything I have in me not to cower before her. “My problem with girls like you, Ali, is that I don’t like you. I don’t like that you’ve wormed your way into this band and into my brother’s life, and I especially don’t like the way you’re all up inside my brother’s head.”

  “Okay, crazy lady. One, you might remember I didn’t even want to be here—”

  “Oh sure, that’s what you say, but name me one girl who doesn’t want to follow Taint around.”

  “Um, hi ... hello,” I say, waving to her as if I’m the crazy person here. “Pick me! I didn’t want this job. To be honest, when I started I couldn’t think of anything worse than following Taint around like their personal lackey. No offense, boys.”

  “None taken, Red,” Levi says, and Zed murmurs some non-committal response, which has Debbie smacking him in the chest. Leif looks as if he’d rather be anywhere but here.

  “I didn’t ask for this job. As I recall it was your stupid brother who got me in this mess in the first place, and I don’t really think I’m a threat to his precious memory of Holly anyway, so you can just chill the fuck out—”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means he tried to kiss me tonight and then he called me Holly. Yeah, fun times, because nothing boosts a woman’s ego like a guy picturing his ex.”

  “You’re not even making that up, are you?” Her tone softens a little.

  “No, Deb, I’m really not.”

  “Jesus Christ, that jackarse,” Debbie says, with her arms folded in front of her chest. “I’m sorry my brother is such a fuckhead. I’ll talk to him.”

  “No! God no. For the love of god, do not talk to him about this. It’s bad enough that you all know.”

  Zed nudges Debbie, and she rolls her eyes and lets out a sigh. “I’m sorry I was such a bitch. I don’t like people much. Especially new people.”

  “Yeah, I kinda gathered that, but I don’t like you much either so ...”

  Deb laughs. “Not friends?”

  “Very much not friends.” I smile back and rub the soft blanket between my fingers for comfort.

  “Come on, let’s get you another drink,” Levi says, edging me away from them. When it’s apparent there isn’t going to be a girl fight, the music starts up again and conversations resume around us.

  “Can we get me something stronger? Right about now I could really use something stronger.”

  “I didn’t know you played that way, Red, but sure.” Levi grins. “Hey Leif, you got a little something for me, brother?”

  “Yeah man, I got powder and morphine—tablet form, so it’s kinda shit.”

  “Wait, you’re dealing here?” I ask.

  Leif frowns. “So?”

  “You’re in a foreign country. What if you get caught?”

  “Then I guess I’ll be extending my stay.” He shrugs. “Why? Are you thinking of squealing to the cops?”

  I glare at him. “Would I be buying off you if I was?”

  “Dude, just give us the powder,” Levi says. “I got a feeling Red can argue for days.”

  Levi pulls a few notes from his wallet and hands them to Leif, who in turn gives him the blow.

  I feel a stab of uncertainty, and then Levi slides his hand into mine and I’m pulled into an unused sitting room. He runs a hand over the poli
shed marble to clear it of dust and then he carefully taps the powder out onto the flat surface, cutting it up with his bankcard and divvying it up into straight little lines. Levi dips his finger into the snow-white powder and brings it to my lips. I’m taken aback by the gesture, but I don’t move out of reach when he pushes his finger into my mouth and slides it over my teeth and gums. His grin makes my stomach do butterflies before I lock that shit down and snatch the rolled up note from his hand. I gather my hair in my hand and slip it over my shoulder and out of the way, and then I lower my head to the marble and glance up at Levi. He watches me closely, all the while with this predatory expression on his face.

  I raise a brow at him, then bring the rolled up bill to my nose, snorting up a line. I sniff. My head sings as the drug rushes through my sinuses. Levi steps closer, wrapping a hand around my waist. His mouth moves nearer to mine, and I jerk back. “Whoa there, Vlad.”

  “You have a little dust under your nose.”

  I lift my hand to wipe it away but he leans forward and his tongue darts out, licking away the powder collected on my upper lip.

  I watch him do a line and then I flop down on the plush leather couch as my world begins to spin at double speed. Levi laughs and slouches down beside me. “You know, when you pull the stick out from your arse, you’re actually kinda cool, Red.”

  “Well when you ...” I peter off, lost instead in the cadence of my voice. I sound like I’m on helium. “Nope, not even then. You’re not even cool then, ’cause you’re still just another guy in a band who relies on his pretty face and his big dick to make a name for himself. Coop and Zed, they work for it. But you ...” I poke at his chest and he clasps my hand within his. “You, mister, are just a player with a massive cock.”

  “Massive, huh?”

  “Don’t presend ...” I shake my head. “Pre-tend you don’t know it’s big. You can see that thing from space. It has its own zip cose ... zip code. Is your mouth dry? My mouth is really dry. And why the fuck am I wrapped up in a blanket?”

  “Josh gave it to you.”

  “Who the fuck is Josh?” I question, standing up and gliding over to the table. I do another line and hand the rolled up notes to Levi.