Mr. October: A Rock Star Romance (Calendar Boys Book 10)

by Nicole S. Goodin

“Have you checked out her ass? It’s fucking fine.”

  “I’m not talking about her ass with you.”

  “So, you’re telling me you haven’t checked her out?”

  I run my hand through my hair. “She’s been living in my house all weekend. I’ve seen her. I’ve seen her skimpy bikinis and her tiny fucking shorts.”

  Jesus. Those tiny fucking shorts.

  When I insisted that she live with me, I never anticipated that she’d look quite so sexy doing it.

  She was meant to be sweet, not mouth-watering.

  I’m not sure she owns any clothing that comes anywhere near her knees, but if she doesn’t stop parading around wearing fucking nothing, I’m going to have to send her shopping.

  I’ve hidden out in my studio for eighty percent of the weekend, just to try and get a reprieve from her floral scent wafting around the hallways, her sandals at the door, her book left lying on the kitchen counter… and don’t even get me started on the second-floor bathroom.

  I’m starting to wonder if this is all some elaborate prank set up by Chuck and Ange to pay me back for being such a prick all these years.

  I thought choosing an innocent-looking young girl would make this easier, but I was wrong. So, so wrong.

  “You want to screw her brains out, don’t you?” Josh chuckles, his eyes locked on my face, reading my expressions in a way only he seems to be able to do.

  Sometimes I wish I’d been more of an asshole rock star and cut off everyone I knew before I got famous – then I wouldn’t have to deal with my childhood best friend turning up like he owns the place and throwing around his stupid opinions like he thinks I want to hear them.

  “She’s a teenager.”

  “Exactly.” He waggles his brows at me. “Limber.”

  “You’re a sick fuck.”

  “Whatever. It’s not like she’s underage.”

  I flip him off.

  He laughs, almost doubling over. “Well, if you’re going to let that sexy woman go to waste, I’ll quite happily rifle through your trash can.”

  “Fuck off.”

  He crosses his arms across his chest, a knowing smirk plastered across his smug face. “You telling me she’s really off limits?”

  I know what he’s doing. I’ve already warned him to keep his hands off Billie, but he’s trying to goad me into confessing that I feel something I don’t.

  He wants me to admit that I want her for myself.

  And I do. Fuck, I do, but it’s purely physical… and I’m not willing to go there, not with her.

  There are plenty of other sexy women out there to fill that void.

  “If you fuck this up for me, I’ll mess up that pretty face of yours.”

  He winks at me. “I just want to have some fun with her.”

  “Have your fun somewhere else.”

  He spins his chair, touching anything he can get his hands on as he goes around.

  “Don’t fuck this up. I could lose my record deal if this doesn’t work. I’m not doing it for fun.”

  His chair stops spinning, and he looks at me, his expression grim. “That bad?”

  I nod. “Yeah, it’s that fucking bad. That’s why she’s here, I need her to help me clean up my public image, and if she’s seen necking on with my best mate, that’s going to look a little bit fucking suspicious, isn’t it?”

  He nods slowly, actually thinking before speaking for once.

  “Fine,” he grumbles. “But I’m still going to give her shit; I like it when she goes all red.”

  “Do whatever you want, as long as you keep your god damn hands to yourself.”

  He salutes me and I grind my teeth together.

  Josh would probably do anything for me if it really came down to it, but that wouldn’t stop him having the time of his life on the way.

  “Where’d Billie go anyway?” he questions.

  I shake my head. Fucked if I know. After I sang, she ditched, muttering something about washing her hair.

  “I’m gonna go find her, see if I can make her blush some more.”

  He jumps to his feet and charges off out the door and up the steps, taking them two-at-a-time like the raging bull he is.

  I drop into my chair and run my hand through my hair in frustration. I could really use a drink right about now.

  Even just a sip would do it, but I know myself better than that. One sip is never enough, not for a guy like me.

  I’ve always had an addictive personality, I get hooked on something, and I want more and more until I can’t get enough.

  Music was my first addiction, and that led to my second addiction – the booze. I even dabbled in drugs, but thankfully I didn’t get a chance to get hooked.

  That’s the thing with drugs; you’re high until you’re not high anymore. Then you’ve only got two choices, get high again, or face the come down.

  I could easily have fallen into that trap, and it was Josh of all people that put his foot down with me, got me out of that scene, away from that crowd and into rehab before it was too late.

  He might be a giant fucking inconvenience most of the time, but I owe him for that. I owe him big time.

  I hear a female shriek from upstairs, and I drag my hands over my face. Sounds like Josh found Billie.

  ***

  Movement catches out of the corner of my eye, and I glance around.

  Billie’s head pops out from behind the doorframe. “Is he gone?” she asks, her tone hushed.

  I turn back to the TV, so she won’t see my grin.

  “He left about half an hour ago,” I tell her.

  She sighs. “Oh, thank god, I mean he’s a good guy, sexy as hell,” she sighs, “but I’m exhausted. He’s like a puppy you have to give constant attention to.”

  I find my jaw clenching without even consciously allowing the action.

  She strolls into the room and drops her tight little body onto the couch next to me.

  I hold back a groan; she’s wearing a tiny pair of pyjama bottoms and a tank top that leaves nothing to the imagination – especially since she’s clearly not wearing a bra.

  Fuck.

  I drag my eyes from her tits and force myself to stare at the movie on the screen.

  “You think my best mate is ‘sexy as hell’?” I question, glancing at her face only briefly, and not allowing my eyes to fall any lower.

  She blushes. “Did I say that out loud?”

  “Sure did.”

  She squirms around nervously.

  “Well?” I prompt. I don’t know why I’m pushing her, maybe I like that stain on her cheeks as much as Josh seems to.

  “I mean, yeah… he’s an attractive guy,” she admits. “He’s bright and bubbly… he’s like the sun with his golden skin and his blonde hair. It’s actually kinda blinding.”

  I huff out a breath.

  If he’s the sun, then I must be that point of darkness in the dead of the night.

  “He’s hasn’t got that whole broody, musician thing going for him that you’ve got so down pat.”

  I turn my gaze on her, watching with interest as she fights to hold my stare rather than shy away from it.

  “Do you think I’m sexy, sugar?” I ask her.

  I watch as she swallows slowly – it seems to be a nervous habit of hers – the column of her throat moving in an alluring, seductive kind of way.

  She goes to speak, but her words get caught on her lips.

  She tries again, “I think you know exactly how sexy you are,” she says, her voice husky.

  I’ve seen entire websites dedicated to how ‘sexy’ I apparently am, but it’s not something I think too much about. I am the way I am, and short of cleaning up my alcohol dependence, I’m not about to change a thing about myself.

  I don’t care about being sexy, but I have to admit, I like the sound of it when it comes from those lips.

  She strokes her bright pink nails down her bare thigh, and I rise to my feet.

  The urge to touch h
er, to fuck her, is only getting stronger, and I can’t give in to it. Not with this woman anyway.

  I haven’t had sex with anything other than my hand since I checked into rehab three months ago, and it’s taking its toll on my self-control.

  I really need to get laid. Preferably by someone who isn’t my fake girlfriend, and if I sit here much longer, that’s exactly what’s going to go down.

  “I’m going to hit the hay,” I tell her, avoiding her eye.

  “Alright,” she replies quietly. “Night.”

  I watch as she snags a throw rug off the back of the couch and tucks it around herself, like she’s settling in for the long haul.

  She turns her head, noticing that I’ve stopped in my tracks.

  “Everything alright?” she questions.

  Is everything alright? No. Fuck no. My life is a mess.

  I nod. “See you tomorrow.”

  “Oh.” She raises her finger. “I forgot to tell you, I have a full day of classes tomorrow, so I won’t be around. I’ll have my phone though… you know… if you need me or whatever.”

  My lip curls up in irritation, about what, I’m not sure.

  “Fine.”

  Her eyes widen at the malice in my tone, but she doesn’t say anything more, just turns back to the screen and keeps watching.

  I stand there for a full minute longer, but if she knows I’m still there, she doesn’t let on.

  I finally slink out of the room, feeling oddly pissed.

  “Morris,” I bark as I enter the kitchen and see him wiping down the already-clean counter.

  “Yes, Sir, what can I do for you?”

  I’ve given up asking him to use my first name, he’s been here two years now and I haven’t succeeded yet.

  “Billie will be going to her classes tomorrow; I want Eric to go with her.”

  Eric is the bodyguard I hired to keep an eye on her when she leaves the house – she’s yet to meet him, so that should be interesting.

  “Certainly, Sir. I’ll have him ready and waiting by seven am.”

  I nod. “Good… Thanks.”

  “Not a problem.”

  I hover in the kitchen, and he eyes me curiously. “Was there something else?”

  I nod, before glancing over my shoulder to make sure that Billie hasn’t made her way into the room behind me.

  “Have Eric keep his eyes and ears open. I want to know who her friends are, what classes she takes, if there are any guys sniffing around…”

  “I’ll instruct him to prepare a full report,” he replies, not a hint of judgement in his tone.

  I nod once, pissed with myself for my request, but unwilling to change my mind about it.

  “Night,” I grumble as I stalk from the room.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Billie

  I tug Avery closer and loop my arm through hers, using her like a shield as we escape campus.

  “I swear to god, if another stranger acts like my best friend again today, I’m going to lose my shit.”

  It’s happened in every class, and at the recording studio when I called in there this week. Suddenly I’m a big deal now that I’m ‘dating’ the most untouchable man in music.

  Avery giggles and waves to the few paparazzi who have stuck it out all week long.

  I’m not sure what they think they’re going to get a picture of me doing, but I can guarantee it’s not going to be anything scandalous.

  I’m the most boring rock star girlfriend in the history of the universe.

  Eric holds open the door to the huge, tinted-out vehicle that I’ve been riding in every day since this fiasco started.

  It’s a far cry from the sleek, red convertible that I planned to drive myself to school in.

  Letting me choose my car was a short-lived dream once we realised the magnitude of the press hounding me.

  Masen bargained with me that if I let Eric chauffer me around in this tank of a vehicle, he’d let me drive the convertible up the coast to his holiday home this weekend and bring Avery with me.

  He’s barely spoken a word more to me in the past four days, so that was a deal I was all too willing to make.

  I can’t wait to escape his mood swings, and Josh with his sexy, impromptu visits.

  I’m a walking ball of hormones, and I’ve never felt so out of control in my life.

  I clamber into the car and Avery climbs in behind me.

  She’s coming to the house for the first time tonight and staying over so we can get an early start on the drive in the morning, neither of us have classes on Friday this week, so we thought we’d make a long weekend out of it.

  Avery bounces in her seat as she takes in the plush interior of the no doubt ridiculously expensive car.

  “Can you try and be cool?” I grumble.

  She points a finger at me. “Don’t you start. You’re the least cool person I know.”

  I scowl at her. “Thanks.”

  She rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean, you have absolutely no chill. I bet you still stutter when Masen talks to you.”

  She’s not far from the truth, but given that Masen barely speaks to me, it hasn’t been that much of a problem.

  “I’m more comfortable than I was.”

  “Wait until he takes you on the red carpet. You’ll legit die.”

  “You do understand the meaning of the word ‘legit’, right?”

  “You. Will. Die. RIP you.” She giggles as we weave through traffic, Eric manoeuvring the huge vehicle with the skill of someone vastly overqualified to be babysitting me.

  I shake my head at her.

  She’s going to embarrass me so thoroughly when we get home, that might actually kill me.

  RIP me after all.

  For a fleeting moment, I hope that Masen isn’t there, that he’s going to go and hide out somewhere for a long weekend too, but as quick as it enters my mind, it’s gone again.

  His presence intimidates me, but I crave it. He’s like gravity, pulling me in while at the same time, doing his best to push me away.

  “Do you think he’ll sing for me?”

  I try and fail to conceal a giggle as I think about how much effort it took on Josh’s behalf to get me to be allowed into Masen’s studio.

  I don’t think Avery has got a hope in hell, but I don’t want to be the one to crush her dreams.

  “What?” she demands.

  I shake my head, my grin lingering. “I guess you can ask him.”

  She sighs dreamily, her strawberry-blonde curls bouncing as she wriggles in excitement.

  We pull up outside Masen’s place and Eric lowers his window to type his code into the gate, which promptly opens for us.

  “Oh my god, this place is awesome,” she squeaks.

  One of the many garage doors opens, revealing a too-handsome-for-his-own-good man, his arms crossed tightly across his toned chest, his damp blond hair falling across his brow and a wide, easy grin on his lips.

  “Who the fuck is that?” Avery demands, practically drooling.

  I can’t even blame her, he’s delicious.

  “Josh.,” I breathe.

  She shoves me. “Who the hell is Josh? Jesus, how many hot guys are you keeping in this place? Am I walking into some kind of orgy?”

  I feel my cheeks heat as Eric catches my eye in the rear-view mirror. I’m pretty confident he’s laughing, but I can’t be sure.

  Great.

  She’s managed to embarrass me even faster than I thought possible.

  “He’s Masen’s best friend. He comes over a lot. And no, no orgies,” I hiss.

  Josh steps backwards, watching with interest as the car pulls into the garage in front of him.

  “Why not? He’s hot.”

  “Please stop talking,” I beg as the car comes to a stop and my door swings open. A grinning Josh appears, his baby-blue eyes sparkling.

  “Hey, FG, I missed you. What took you so long? Who’s your friend?”

  I can’t help but smile, his exci
tement is infectious.

  “I’ve been at class, some of us have better things to do than lounge around a pool all day, and this is Avery, she’s staying over tonight.”

  His charming smile shifts from me to my best friend.

  “Avery,” he says simply, his voice husky.

  I wince. I bet he’s turned her to a puddle of mush with just that one word.

  “Are you going to let us out of the car or what?” I demand.

  He stares at Avery – who looks like she’s forgotten how to speak – for a beat longer before chuckling and pulling his head back out of the car, gesturing for me to climb out.

  “Wow,” Avery whispers. “That was… wow.”

  I couldn’t agree more. I still find myself thinking about the way he very nearly charmed the pants off me when we first met, not that he’s any less appealing now, but he is more exhausting, that’s for damn sure.

  I slide out of the car, slinging my bag over my shoulder, and Avery follows.

  “Thanks, Eric,” I call to the man who’s become my shadow.

  He tips his invisible hat to me, the light bouncing off his bald head.

  Josh shuts the car door, still making eyes at Avery. I shove him in the direction of the house, and he starts to walk, a chuckle falling from his lips.

  “You didn’t tell me your friend was so pretty, FG.”

  “I didn’t tell you anything about my friend, in fact, I was hoping you wouldn’t be here at all.”

  He clutches at his chest. “You wound me. It hurts my feelings when you’re embarrassed of me, you know that?”

  I roll my eyes and drop my bag onto a stool at the kitchen bench.

  “Mi casa es su casa,” Josh tells Avery, his hands gesturing around to the house.

  I shake my head in amusement.

  Avery glances around, her eyes wide. “This place is amazing.”

  Eric clears his throat from behind us. “Excuse me, Miss Tatum, what time are you planning to leave in the morning? I need to make the arrangements.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “What kind of arrangements?”

  “Notify the cleaning company of our arrival time, check our route, that type of thing.”

  My brows rise, nearly to my hairline. “I’m sorry, but our?”