The Billionaire's Rock Star (Sutton Billionaires Book 4)

by Lori Ryan

  PJ felt her chest ease and she snuggled down to watch the movie, feeling lighter than she had in days. She lost herself in the comfort of sitting with Gabe and the unbeatable escapism of watching Harry discover a world filled with hidden doorways, chocolate frogs, banking goblins, and new best friends.

  Chapter 7

  They watched fourteen of the twenty hours of Potter movies before calling it quits. A steady diet of popcorn, chips and salsa, and Reese’s Pieces had PJ almost wishing they’d stuck to the fruit from breakfast. Almost.

  She made a lame attempt at playing her guitar when they finally turned off the T.V. but it hadn’t gone very far. The music that normally flowed through her seemed to have dried up with the stress of the last couple of days.

  She was now walking on the beach, a light sweater wrapped around her shoulders. Gabe had assured her she wouldn’t run into any large crowds on the private beach and he was right. With her hair tucked under a floppy sunhat and sun glasses shading her eyes, she was pretty well disguised.

  The sand squished between her toes and the muscles in her legs seemed to thank her for the stretch after so many hours on the couch. She kept her head down, watching for the tiny shells that dotted the sand, usually showing up where the water seemed to have brushed them all together to form a line.

  A bit of porcelain caught her eye and she picked it up, rubbing her hand over the soft surface. Battered by the sea, it had only come out more beautiful, smoothed of any sharp edge that it had once held, and PJ couldn’t help but wonder if she would come out of this in the same way.

  Would the battering she was enduring now leave her softened but not damaged or would she break under the strain? She thought of her aunt and uncle and Mathew. Would they break under what was to come for them?

  Tears came to her eyes at the thought. They didn’t deserve this.

  PJ knelt and let the piece of pottery go, watching it wash back out to sea. She put her hands down in the sand and felt the water wash over them, burying them bit by bit with each retreating wave.

  Gabe had been right. This home he’d found on the Connecticut coastline was the perfect place to escape the world.

  She stood, turning to head back toward Gabe’s. Twenty yards down the shore, she could make him out standing and waiting for her. She smiled. Had he been there the whole time, watching over her?

  It took her a few minutes to meet up with him and when they did, he turned and fell into step beside her.

  The silence between them was comfortable and PJ walked by his side for several minutes before saying anything.

  “Are you my bodyguard for the week?” She asked. She’d given her real bodyguards the week off, though they were staying in a nearby hotel so they could meet her at a moment’s notice if she needed them back on duty.

  Gabe brushed her shoulder with his, the connection sparking warmth in her chest.

  “Just wanted to be sure you weren’t out here alone if anyone recognized you.”

  She knew how quickly a crowd could converge on her if that did happen. It was rarely one or two people saying hello. It might start like that, but as soon as one person asked for a selfie with her, others would notice and things could get out of hand before she had time to make it back to Gabe’s.

  “Thank you,” she said. “I was thinking I could cook for you tonight.”

  Gabe raised a brow at her? “Yeah?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “I can cook. I mean, it’s not going to be anything gourmet, but I can make pasta or something.”

  The amusement in his eyes was a little too clear, but he nodded. “Deal. But feel free to put me to work chopping or making meatballs or whatever you need.”

  Why did the image of them cooking side-by-side together make her stomach flip over?

  Because there was something so normal in that. She realized, then, that’s partly what had made these couple of days so great. The normality of it all. Eating on the couch while they watched T.V., waking up in a bed that wasn’t in a hotel suite, not having a team of people around her to let her know where she needed to be next or who was waiting for an interview.

  She would miss this.

  “Meatballs, huh? If you make homemade meatballs, that’s totally going to put my pasta and sauce from a jar to shame.”

  When Gabe caught her hand in his and held it as they walked, it felt natural. Natural and so damned good. Warm and comforting as their palms aligned and they came over the last dune near the gate to his backyard.

  “I promise to ooh and ah over your sauce from a jar.”

  Laughter filled her as she shook her head. “I do make a mean garlic bread if you have any Italian bread.”

  “No Italian bread, but I think there are some dinner rolls in the freezer. Would those work?”

  “As long as I can smear it with way too much butter and sprinkle it with garlic, it’ll work.”

  He held the gate for her and PJ soaked in the night and wished she had more than a week here in this secret hideaway from the world and all her problems. Just a little longer before she had to face reality.

  Chapter 8

  PJ woke slowly, blinking back the light that streamed in through the gauzy white curtains hanging over the patio doors. Clearing her head of the dream that woke her wasn’t easy. Her hand went to her mouth where she could almost feel Gabe’s mouth on hers as it had been in her dream.

  Last night, they’d eaten dinner without the kiss that had accompanied their burgers the night before. Still, that didn’t mean her mind was any further from it than it had been.

  She could taste him. Feel him as he had gripped her tight and slanted his mouth over hers, tangling his tongue with hers, taking what he wanted. Giving her what she needed.

  She shook off the remnants of the dream and looked around the room as the events of the last few days came back to her. Not the kiss with Gabe, but all the rest of it.

  The journal, the Kurt interview. She groaned and rolled over, pulling the covers up over her face. What she wouldn’t give to wind back the clock. Except for the kiss…

  She felt absolutely wrecked. Never mind the emotional toll of everything that had been happening. There was the fact she and Gabe had stayed up talking all Thursday night. She’d then had a short nap on the plane, but that was hardly enough to catch her up.

  Last night, she’d gone to bed early, only to toss and turn the whole night, imagining what Gabe Sawyer could have done with those hands and that mouth, that tongue, if he hadn’t put the brakes on that kiss.

  Oh, that kiss. Talk about melting her brain and setting her body on fire.

  But, Gabe was right. It was the last thing she needed. She cringed at the memory of him stopping the kiss. He’d barely touched her lips and the next thing she knew, she’d practically thrown herself at him, clinging to him.

  Ugh. PJ rolled over again and pulled the sheet off her head, staring out at the sun through the drapes. She was mortified at how she’d behaved. He probably thought she was completely trashy. The littlest bit of compassion from a man—of pity, really—and she took that and ran with it, making it into something entirely different.

  PJ hated to admit it, but she really was a complete idiot when it came to relationships with men. Her first relationship hadn’t even been a real relationship.

  And she hadn’t had many relationships that were even close to serious since then, unless you count Kurt. And, oh, what a disaster that had been. She’d been fooled once again into thinking he cared for her.

  She hadn’t been gullible enough to think it was love, yet. But, her feelings could have headed that way until she found out he wasn’t even remotely headed in the same direction.

  PJ’s phone beeped on the nightstand, and she looked at the screen as her stomach clenched in a tight knot. She was almost afraid to have any connection to the outside world right now. She forced herself to look anyway, but not before she saw it was a text from Debra.

  You need to look at Twitter. We’re on top of it,
trying to get it shut down and releasing a statement talking about balancing your need for privacy while giving your fans access to you, yada yada. Take a look and we’ll touch base with you later.

  PJ held her breath as she hit the small bird on her home screen and pulled up Twitter.

  Jimmy’s Little Whore filled her feed. Those words appeared over and over in what seemed like hundreds of tweets, complete with the hashtag #jimmyswhore. PJ clicked on the link in one of the tweets and was taken to a web page that showed several of her journal entries from her time with Jimmy Mondo.

  Everything from the first touches of his hands on her body to the day she lost her virginity. Complete with all of her ramblings about how special she’d been to him, how much he’d loved her.

  Of course, now, as an adult, she knew his reputation in the industry was despicable. It wouldn’t come as a huge surprise to anyone that she’d slept with him, although her young age at the time would probably shock them. And get him into deep trouble. She’d been fifteen. She couldn’t really blame them for calling her a whore.

  PJ scrolled to the bottom. There were hundreds of comments. Some supporting her, telling her how much they loved her, and how disgusting he’d been to take advantage of her. Others calling her a slut, saying she’d probably seduced him, speculating about how she’d made her name in the industry, how she’d gotten her big break.

  Still more wondered why Jimmy hadn’t been arrested, while others were angry that someone would steal her journal and release such private information.

  PJ wished she could say she didn’t feel ashamed and humiliated. But she did. She hated the idea that people knew what she’d done, how she’d spread her legs at the mere promise of love.

  She jumped at the sound of a knock on her door.

  “Pru? You awake?” came Gabe’s voice softly through the door.

  Gabe. PJ squeezed her eyes shut when she realized Gabe would be reading this stuff this morning, too. Gabe…her parents…Lydia…Ellis. Ugh.

  “Yeah, I’m up. I’ll, um. I’ll be out in a minute,” she said.

  “Okay. No rush. I’ve got some fruit cut up for breakfast and there’s cereal on the counter if you want it. Help yourself to anything. I’m going to head out to the beach for a run.”

  “Thank you,” PJ said, trying to hide the relief in her voice. With the things he’d probably read about her today, she wasn’t in any rush to face him.

  Her phone beeped and PJ glanced at the screen, afraid she’d see a blocked number again. Ellis showed as the Caller ID. She clicked on her messages in case Ellis was passing along important info from either Lydia or Debra, as he often did.

  As the lowest person in terms of seniority on the team of people closest to her, he often ended up playing the part of messenger and even gofer, when there wasn’t anyone else around.

  At times, PJ felt Lydia pushed him around a bit too much, and PJ had talked to Lydia about it a time or two. Ellis was important to the team, whether Lydia wanted to view her brother that way or not.

  It was also well known among them all that Ellis had a pretty strong, albeit one-sided, crush on PJ. She was flattered and considered him a friend, but hadn’t ever had feelings for him beyond that.

  As she opened his messages, she almost regretted there was no spark between them. Ellis was faithful and supportive. He would probably never treat her the way Kurt had, and he certainly would never take advantage of someone so much younger than him the way Jimmy had. Ellis was just, deep down, a really good person. Why couldn’t she be attracted to him?

  She frowned as images of Gabe filled her mind. His toned and tight body, his eyes as they bored into hers moments before his mouth captured hers…. She was attracted to Gabe Sawyer and she didn’t think he was a bad person. She knew he wasn’t the type of person to do what Jimmy did.

  As for what Kurt had done? She didn’t think he’d be unfaithful like Kurt, but that didn’t mean he would want anything long term or exclusive. She’d seen enough pictures of him with models and celebrities on his arm to know he dated. A lot.

  She also wasn’t sure he was what she needed right now. She couldn’t say why. Maybe it was just the fact she was so attracted to him that made him seem dangerous, in a way. She was so attracted to him, her veneer of control was slipping away—that couldn't possibly be good for her.

  PJ read the string of messages from Ellis.

  Are you hanging in there?

  You’ve seen the news this morning, right?

  Try to ignore it... They’re just trying to mess with your head.

  She smiled, but there wasn’t much happiness in it. Of course Ellis would support her. He always did. But what did everyone else think? Even if they supported her now, would they still feel the same when they found out the rest of the story?

  Thanx, E. I appreciate you! Just trying to rest right now and not pay attention to it until I have to:)

  Talk about Queen of Denial.

  Another text from Ellis came through.

  Kurt keeps calling Lydia. He wants your number but she won’t give it to him.

  Why would Kurt want to talk to her?

  Thanks, she texted quickly, then slid off the bed and went to the kitchen to get something to eat. The last thing she wanted was to talk to Kurt.

  She had just picked up an apple when a very angry, almost dangerous-looking Gabe stormed back in the house. His eyes were almost black as he glowered and held his phone out. It showed the website she’d just looked at moments before.

  “Is it true?” He all but growled the words at her and PJ clutched the edges of her robe together. She thought about giving him a vague answer that neither confirmed nor denied, but she knew Gabe wouldn't put up with that.

  She straightened her spine and met his eye when she spoke, forcing her words to come out strong and clear. “Yes. It’s true.”

  PJ watched as the muscles in his jaw twitched, and she could see him grinding his teeth together. He looked at her for another minute and she could see the disgust in his eyes.

  She didn’t look away. She was through letting people judge her. Her whole damn life was being splattered across every social media platform that had been invented. She didn’t need him —one of the only people she’d begun to think of as a friend—judging her too.

  Before she could think of something to say, Gabe spun on his heel and went back the way he’d come, heading out through the patio doors and back onto the beach. PJ watched him jog down the beach as she sank onto one of the bar stools that lined the kitchen island. She should probably pack her bags and leave, but she didn’t know where to go, or how….

  She could go to Susie and Brian’s. In fact, she probably should try to help them deal with the fallout she was sure would be hitting them soon.

  But honestly, she didn’t know if they’d want her there. Probably not. They would want to deal with this as a family.

  A family.

  PJ went back in the house and showered, letting the hot water run down her body in waves, tilting her head back and feeling the water on her face. Maybe she should just go somewhere alone.

  She could fly to Europe. Maybe rent a little place in Italy for a couple of days. No, that didn’t make sense. She’d end up sitting on a plane for most of her time off, not to mention the thought of going to the airport where she might be recognized sucked.

  It wasn’t lost to her that she had no true friends to turn to right now. She had her team, and she could always go home to her parents, but with her life on the road the way she was all the time, she didn’t have the kind of friendships a person needed at a time like this.

  Her team was wonderful and she loved her parents, but that wasn’t the same thing as having real friends to lean on. Ellis was younger than PJ, and he wasn’t exactly the kind of friend she could turn to for support at a time like this.

  In theory, she and Lydia should be close. Their parents had been friends for years and they were only a few years apart in age. Since she’d hired Lydi
a as her tour manager, they saw each other all the time, but they hadn’t ever really bonded.

  Lydia was frighteningly ambitious and career oriented. Which was great when she was running PJ’s tours, but the control and intensity Lydia needed to pull that off didn’t really translate into ‘girlfriend’ material.

  PJ could rent a car and drive to that little spa she’d once gone to in upstate New York. That shouldn’t be too far from here and they could probably fit her in if she called ahead. They had been great about respecting her privacy the last time. It wouldn't be a bad place to go to stick her head in the sand.

  She squeezed her eyes shut at the thought of having to go back on tour, even if it was almost a week away. PJ swallowed and thought again about walking away from it all.

  She’d been thinking a lot about that lately. About just going out while she was still on top. And now the thought seemed to take hold more firmly in her head than ever before. Earlier, it had just been an occasional note in her journal, quickly dismissed when she thought of her fans.

  But, now. Well, now things were different. Usually, if she got down or stressed out, she could work on her music, get out her keyboard or guitar and write something new. Or tweak something old.

  Not in the last few days, though. She felt as though all the music had drained out of her. She didn’t have anything left to give. And, she hated that defeated feeling—it wasn’t something she was used to.

  PJ turned off the water and stepped from the shower, taking a deep breath and telling herself to stop the pity party. It wasn’t anything but the truth coming out now. She needed to deal with the choices she’d made when she was young: the choice to get into bed with Jimmy Mondo, the decision to give up her baby.

  There wasn’t anything to it other than that. It was simply time for her to deal with the mistakes of her past.

  Gabe dragged himself back to the house. He’d run a lot further than his usual three miles, trying like hell to get the images of Jimmy Mondo seducing a much-too-young PJ, out of his head. What the hell had her parents been thinking about, not pressing charges?