“I saw you naked already, remember?”
“Friends don’t look at each other naked, Garrett.”
“Friends.” The word feels strange in my mouth. Can we be? After everything?
“Go on now.” She throws a pillow at me.
“Jeez, I’m going. When did you get so demanding?”
Her laughter trails behind me as I move to the sitting room. I eye the room service tray, and the spoiled burger upon it. I stare at it, wondering what the hell is happening. We fought. We had sex. And now we’re friends?
She emerges from the bedroom and sees what I’m looking at. “Ew, don’t eat that. You’ll get food poisoning.” She crosses to the door. “I’ll see you later then.”
“Yeah.”
She leaves, and I’m left standing here; confused as shit.
~ ~ ~
We’re backstage, getting ready to go on. We’ve drunk our shots and shouted our mantra. We’re fired up. I pass Reece on my way out.
“See you out there, Gare.”
I shake my head. “Garrett, or G, if you must. Not Gare.”
Her nose scrunches. “Sorry. See you out there, Garrett.” She punches my arm playfully.
Liam catches up to me. “Want to tell me what that was all about?”
“What?”
“Don’t play dumb with me. You and Reece. You said she could call you G. She playfully hit your arm. In the limo earlier, you weren’t glaring at each other like you usually do. You seemed totally okay being around her. What gives? What the hell happened in your room last night? I mean, shit, she married your brother. That makes her your sister-in-law.”
“Ex sister-in-law. We might be friends now or some shit like that.”
“Friends?” He laughs. “When did this happen?”
“Last night after we fought, we decided we were tired of hating each other.”
“You decided.” He tugs me to a halt and stares me down. “Oh, shit, G. Tell me you didn’t sleep with her.”
“Okay, I didn’t sleep with her.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“You told me to say it, so I did.”
“Dude, you may be playing with fire. She’s your brother’s ex.”
“She’s my ex. Besides, it’s not going to happen again. We agreed.”
He chuckles. I don’t know what the hell he finds so funny. “You can’t be friends with a woman you screwed. Not possible.”
“Yes, it is.”
He laughs some more. “This may be more interesting than you two hating each other.”
“Do not say anything to the others.” I start walking. “Can we go play, please?”
“Girls talk, you know,” he calls after me.
“She won’t,” I say over my shoulder.
“Because you know her so well?”
I ignore him and go to my platform. He’s right. Why should I trust her not to say anything? Especially when I couldn’t keep my big mouth shut for even a day. If Bria and Ella find out we slept together, they’ll think it was all my fault. I go over last night in my head. Was it? I’m pretty sure I kissed her first. Fuck.
When Reece comes on to sing her song, I can’t keep my eyes off her. She’s a natural. Her voice is deeper and richer than it was back then. Her movements are fluid. Her hair shimmers. I’m almost sad for her that she doesn’t get to play the guitar, because Reece singing and playing is a deadly combination. Obviously, Ronni thinks so too.
I try not to read much into her not looking at me once during the entire song. She doesn’t seem mad. It might be entirely possible she was sincere about wanting to be friends.
She told me to act like she was one of the groupies, but I haven’t been with one since the failed blow job attempt in the closet after our first show. So why didn’t I tell her?
Shit. Stop with all the existential questions, Garrett, and just play.
Reece finishes her song, and I don’t think about her again until we’re at the after-party and Iggy pulls his usual shit, twirling and kissing her. I see how she cringes and tries to pull away. He’s oblivious, however.
I walk up. “Iggy, some girl over there was asking for you.”
He cranes his neck. “Who?”
“Pink sweater, big tits.”
“Sweet! Catch you guys later.”
After he’s out of earshot, she says, “Thanks, I guess, but I can handle him. I’m not that helpless eighteen-year-old anymore.”
“I can see that.”
“Garrett!” a woman cries. “You’re my absolute favorite. Most people like the singer or the guitar player, but not me. Your tattoos are sexy.” She strokes my arm. “Can I touch them?”
“I guess so.”
“Can I get a picture? An autograph?” She draws close. “Are you looking for someone to go back to your hotel? Because I totally would.”
“Yes, yes, and no.”
She seems confused. I explain it to her. She pouts, and I pose for pictures. When she walks away, I turn around to find Reece gone.
Liam crosses the room. “Lose somebody?”
“No.”
“I’m calling total bullshit,” he says.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You should have seen yourself during her song. You want her. You want the shit out of her.”
“I do not.”
He pats me on the shoulder. “Good luck with that.”
I get a drink from the bar and spot her. She’s talking with one of the roadies. She’s laughing. He’s flirting. And I’m fucking jealous.
Shit.
Chapter Twenty-four
Reece
The past few weeks have been incredible: I’ve gotten closer to Ella and Bria, I signed a contract with IRL, my first royalty check for “Swerve” came in, and Garrett and I are … friends?
It’s still strange being on tour with them when I’m only singing one song. But I wouldn’t give up this experience for anything.
“Let me help you with those,” my Uber driver says when he sees me trying to balance boxes and bags. He puts them in his trunk and we get in the car. “You’re heading to the Omni?”
“I am.”
He eyes me in the rearview mirror. “Have you met Reckless Alibi? I heard they’re staying there for a few days. I went to their concert last night. They’re awesome.”
“Alibi who?”
“Never mind.”
I smile to myself. People know who they are and where they’re staying. How many other Uber drivers went to the concert? How many locals have heard of them?
We pull up at the hotel and there’s a crowd outside. Bellhops are trying to disperse them.
“Guess the word is out,” my driver says, popping the trunk open. “Better have your key card ready, or they probably won’t let you in. Hey, do you need help carrying your things inside?”
“No. I’m fine. Thanks for the ride.”
I get out, juggle everything into place, and hurry to the door, keeping my head down.
“It’s her!” someone shouts. People swarm.
“Who?” another asks.
“You’re the one who sang with them last night, aren’t you? You are. What’s your name?”
As people close in around me, I panic. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“It is her!” a woman screams. She shoves her phone in my face. On it is a photo of me on stage last night. “You’re with Reckless Alibi.”
“I’m only the guest singer,” I say, wondering when and if the hotel is going to intercede.
“What’s your name? Can I have your autograph?”
“You want my autograph?” I ask, looking at the glossy eight-by-ten photo of Reckless Alibi that she’s shoving in my face. “But I’m not even in this picture.”
“Doesn’t matter. You sang with them. You know them. Oh my God, do you know Liam Campbell? Have you slept with him?”
“Reece! Reece! Over here!” A teenage girl pushes through the cro
wd, stands next to me, and takes a selfie.
“Reece what?” someone asks.
“Mancini,” the girl says. “She’s all over the internet.”
“I am?” Trying not to drop bags, I sign autographs, thrilled but uneasy at all the attention.
“What’s in the bags?” a different girl asks.
“I, uh …”
She tries taking one from me.
“Back off!” Garrett plows his way through the people with a hotel employee in tow. He reaches me, hands my bags to the guy in the Omni uniform, and tells him to take me inside.
I’m forgotten as the crowd swarms him.
From behind the glass doors, I watch Garrett work the crowd. He signs a few dozen autographs, pulls up the sleeve of his T-shirt to show someone his tattoos, poses for pictures, then he makes his way back inside, more employees having to hold fans back.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
I nod, still stunned I was recognized. “It was kind of surreal. I didn’t mind until that woman tried to take my bag.”
“Everyone will want a piece of you. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
“It’s what I’ve wanted since I was a little girl. Yes, I’m ready.”
He picks up my bags and we get into the elevator. “Consider taking Ella with you. Safety in numbers and all that.”
“She and Liam are on a double date with Crew and Bria.”
“I know. They invited me.”
I laugh. “Me, too.”
“And you didn’t go because you didn’t want it to seem like we’re a couple?”
“We’re not a couple.”
“Try telling them that.”
“I know, right? Can they be any more obvious about trying to throw us together?”
He presses the button for our floor. “We’re being too nice to each other.”
“You want me to yell at you some more?”
His smile makes me smile. “Maybe we should stage a fight.” We get to my room, and he puts my bags inside the door. “You eat yet?”
“I guess I’ll order room service. I was going to try the place next door, but considering what’s going on outside, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“The hotel has a restaurant.”
“Are you inviting me to dinner, Garrett Young? Some would call that a date.”
“I need to eat. You need to eat. We’ll just do it at the same table. No biggie. It’s something friends do, right?”
“We could stop by Iggy’s room, see if he’s hungry.”
“He’s sleeping. He seems to do a lot of that these days.”
“There’s something you should know about him. He’s doing drugs.”
“I know. We all do. He smells like weed twenty-four-seven. It’s probably why he’s so chill and sleeps all the time.”
“It’s not only pot. I walked in on him doing a line of coke.”
“In his hotel room?”
“Before a show, several weeks ago.”
“In his hotel room before a show?”
I suppress a smile. “At the arena.”
“Hmm. Well, it hasn’t seemed to have impeded his performance. It’s something we have to deal with in this business.”
“Garrett. It’s not just coke either. It’s meth, too.”
This gets his attention. “You saw him doing meth?”
“No, but I tasted it on him. You’ve seen how he picks me up and kisses me. It’s an unmistakable taste, one I ran into a long time ago.”
“Before me?”
I nod. “There was a kid in one of my foster homes. He liked me. Sometimes he’d get high and try to force himself on me. He was a major meth head.”
“Jesus, Reece.”
“Don’t worry, he never succeeded.”
“Why tell me about Iggy now when this happened weeks ago?” He looks pissed. “Has Iggy tried anything?”
“Not since Maddox told him to back off. I’m telling you now because we’re friends, and because meth isn’t a recreational drug you use once in a while. Users are often addicts. He’s probably using pot to chill him out after his meth or coke highs. I thought you should know in case it gets worse.”
“I’m not going to keep this from the others.”
“I know.”
“And you’ll let me know if he tries anything?”
“Yes, but I don’t think he will.”
“If he’s a drug addict, you can’t be sure though, can you? Shit, that’s all we need. Thank God we didn’t bring him on as a full-fledged member of RA.”
“That’s news to me.”
“This is a trial. We’re trying him out on the tour.”
“Maybe he’s having a hard time coping with the sudden attention.”
Garrett looks me square in the eye. “How do you think you’re going to cope?”
I scoff at his question. “Not like he is.”
“Promise me, Reece. Swear you won’t get into drugs.”
“You’re looking out for me?”
“It’s what friends do for each other.” His stomach lets out a loud grumble. “You know what else they do? Eat.” He opens the door. “Shall we?”
On the way downstairs, Garrett stops in his room for a baseball cap. At the hotel restaurant, he asks for a table in the corner. The hostess assures him we won’t be bothered.
We’re waited on immediately. I guess there are perks to being with a rock star.
“Is this how it’ll always be?” I ask, glancing at his hat. “Disguises and out-of-the-way tables?”
“If we want peace and quiet, yes. Don’t get me wrong. I love the fans. None of this would be possible without them, but we have to be able to do normal things too.”
“You seem pretty comfortable with fame.”
“Comfortable? I’m still trying to get used to it. This is the first time people have camped outside the hotel, trying to get a glimpse of us. When we went on tour in Florida last year, we were unknown. But here’s the scary part. I think it will continue to get worse. I’m talking crazy fans. Stalkers. Bodyguards. In some ways, our lives aren’t our own anymore. But this is what we signed up for.”
“Jeez, when you put it like that.” I gulp from my glass of wine.
“Just make sure IRL provides you with security from day one.”
“You mean make sure your company provides me with it?”
He chuckles. “Sometimes I forget I own the label.”
“Maybe one day you’ll tell me how that happened.”
“Maybe one day you’ll tell me why you aren’t married anymore.”
Thankfully, our food arrives, saving us from a super awkward pause. We’re trying to be friends, but both of us know we’re not there yet.
“There is one thing I’ve been dying to know,” I say.
He takes a bite of his steak and speaks around it. “What’s that?”
“Australia. You were hesitant to talk about it. I assumed because you didn’t want to rub it in that you were ten thousand miles away. But what was it like learning from such a legend?”
“After six years, that’s what’s been eating at you?”
“It was your dream, Garrett. I really want to hear about it.”
He studies me. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, but we’d better get some more wine, because there’s a hell of a lot to say. I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Start from the beginning, and tell me everything.”
I sit back and listen to all the things he never told me. All the things I’ve wondered about for years. I find I have to swallow a lot of tears. Because hearing about his time there brings back so many memories. So many emotions.
And I know for sure why I’m no longer married. It’s because I could never love anyone the way I loved him. The way I still love him.
Chapter Twenty-five
Garrett
Six years ago …
Freddie leads us away from the
guesthouse, down a long path, and through a heavily locked gate.
“I can’t believe we’re going into Gunther Grumley’s house,” Sam says.
I shake my head. “This isn’t his house.” I point to a break in the tall shrubs. “That’s his house.”
Sam’s jaw drops when he sees a mansion ten times the size of my parents’ estate back home. “Holy shit.”
The others excitedly peek through the bushes. Freddie gets annoyed. “Come now, don’t want to be late your first day.”
We all arrived at the airport within five hours of each other. The ten of us had twenty-four hours to get settled. We were assigned two to a room and given run of the place, including the pool, but only the run of the immediate grounds.
Sam is my roommate. He’s from California. The five of us from the US have more jet lag than anyone else. Two of the others are from England. One came from Germany, one from South Africa, and the last from here in Australia. Everyone speaks, reads, and writes English—it was a requirement.
It’s springtime in the States, but it’s closing in on winter here. When I get back to Connecticut, it will be November. Sucks for me to have to endure almost nine straight months of cold weather. But I’d suffer being dipped in honey and planted on an anthill for this opportunity.
Freddie gives us a quick tour of the building. One side is an elaborate recording studio. Booth after booth, containing synthesizers and sound equipment that must be worth millions of dollars. No wonder this place is locked up like an armory.
On the other side is a classroom, a lounge, a kitchen, and several smaller studios outfitted with some of the nicest drum sets I’ve ever seen.
“Everyone take a packet,” Freddie says, pointing to a table. “Inside is the schedule for the full six months. Don’t ask to change it. We won’t. If you have any conflicts, I suggest you resolve them now. We work on Mr. Grumley’s schedule, not yours.” She leads us into the classroom. “Take a seat and wait here.”
Everyone pages through the packet. I’m almost relieved Reece didn’t come with me. I doubt I’d have had much time for her. The days are long. Even Saturdays are booked with activities. Sundays are the only days we have for ourselves.
Reckless Reunion (The Reckless Rockstar Series) Page 15
