Bad Boy Rock Star
Page 19
"Hannah?" he asked again, as I walked back downstairs. He looked at me, and all my resolve melted. Somehow, he could do that to me. The hurt look buried deep in his eyes made me want to comfort him, when he should be comforting me. He stood at the foot of the stairs waiting for me.
He took my hand and pulled me to the sofa. I sat down beside him.
"I'm sorry," he said. Just like I'd wanted the night before. "I'm not good with this kind of thing. It's not that I don't like you, it's just that I'm not good…"
I looked at him, wondering why he thought that. Who was good at this kind of thing? Not me. I hated it but I needed to know how he felt.
"If I let you get too close, I might destroy you. I worry about that."
I nodded.
"I can survive. I've survived so far. Why don't you take a chance, Jack? Let me look after myself."
He pulled me into his arms and I rested my head on his chest. He didn't try to kiss me, he just caressed my hair and leaned his head on mine. I could hear the beating of his heart. I felt at peace in his arms. I reached over and took his other hand in mine. I traced along the outlines of his fingers. He had the most amazing hands of any man I'd met, so strong and yet so tender.
A lock of his hair swept down into his face and I brushed it back behind his ear. He took hold of my hand again, as though he couldn't bear to not hold it.
At that moment, without words, I knew he cared. Everything about him said so – his breath, his heartbeat, his touch. The feel of his hands brushing through my hair as though I was the only one in the world for him.
"Stay with me," he whispered.
I nodded. I felt safe here with him to protect me from the world. He put his arm around me and pulled me closer to him. I didn't want to speak, I didn't want to move, scared that anything I did would break this moment between us. It had felt like every time we'd gotten close, something had come along to destroy that closeness. Finally, we could show our true feelings.
With his thumb, he stroked the palm of my hand.
"Don't you want to eat something?" he asked.
I shook my head. I did but not right then. Soon, we'd have to get up and cook something to eat and we'd have to leave the beach in a few days but I didn't want to think about anything but that moment. I'd never dreamed I could feel that happiness.
We watched the wind blowing up a storm outside but in there, we were warm and happy and protected.
Chapter 26
Of course, we couldn't stay in each other's arms, curled up like a pair of kittens, for long. While my heart was happy, there were other parts of me demanding attention. Before long, my hand ran up his chest feeling the outline of the hard muscles. His fingers traced my cheek and our mouths sought each other. At first, his lips brushed lightly against mine, as though neither of us felt any rush, not through lack of desire but with the knowledge that we had forever.
He pulled away, uttering my name. He brushed back my hair and ran his finger over my lips. I playfully nipped at it.
Then my phone rang.
"Ignore it," he said.
He pressed hard against me, defying me to let it ring.
"I can't," I said. "It could be news about Dad."
He nodded, the realisation coming into his eyes that I would have to take it. If anything urgent had happened, I'd need to know straight away.
"Yes?" I answered then listened to the explanation, waving at Jack to get me a pen and paper. "Yes, that sounds doable. It will take some juggling but we can rearrange our schedule for you."
I took the pen and wrote down the details then hung up.
Looking at Jack, I took a deep breath. "Looks like we have to go back to the city."
"Bad news?"
"Not at all. The best. That was the TV station. They've had a band pull out of the line up for Rock! Live! tonight and they need someone to fill in at the last moment. We'll need to leave at once. This is too hot to pass up."
Jack got it at once. He jumped up and threw some things in a bag. I wondered if I should've ignored the call. Would we ever get back to that place? I wondered if he would ever take me in his arms again. Maybe that once in a lifetime moment had been ruined.
He noticed me staring out to sea and took my face in his hands.
"Don't worry," he said. "As soon as the show’s over, we can head straight back here. We'll turn off our phones and be so far away from anyone that no one will touch us. Hours and hours of uninterrupted time."
The look in his eyes let me know he was thinking what I was thinking.
"You don't need to come with me, you know. If you are worried there’s going to be trouble or any of that. We should be able to manage on our own. You can relax here."
"As if I'd miss this."
I rushed upstairs to shower and get changed. I need to look fantastic as the manager. We jumped in the car and headed off. I called Eric and Spud and let them know to meet us with the gear. Then I called Angie.
When she finished squealing, I asked her to bring me a change of clothes and meet us at the studio. We had to be there for setup at 5.00 then for live recording at 8.00.
"I've got to record this. It's going to be huge. Oh, can I be in the audience? Get Jack to play near me so I can be on the telly. This is totes amayonaising! I've always wanted to be in the audience. Oh, my dream is coming true."
When I hung up, Jack laughed at me.
"You need a change of clothes?"
"Yes, I didn't pack appropriately for this. I just wish I'd left a key to my place with Angie. Still, I'm sure she'll bring something decent for me to wear. Better than jeans."
"You are not actually going to be on TV yourself, you know. And I happen to like you in jeans."
"Oh, you do, do you? Well, that's nice. I'll take that into consideration when I'm getting dressed next time." I poked my tongue out at him.
"Yeah, you don't strike me as a chick who dresses to please her boyfriend."
I didn't say anything out loud. I didn't question what he'd said. I just took the word "boyfriend" and hugged it to my heart secretly. Putting it away to pull out when I needed to be reassured.
"What are you grinning at?" he asked.
"Nothing. Nothing at all."
Eric, Spud and Angie were waiting in the car park at the studio.
"Okay, we have everything loaded up. We have to go in. The PA has some stuff to go over with us before rehearsal, releases to sign all that kind of thing."
Eric seemed to be on top of it all. I nodded.
We walked down a corridor with pictures of stars framed on the walls.
I grabbed the bag off Angie and ran into the bathroom. I'd spilt a drink on myself in car and my top felt gross and sticky.
I washed myself down and pulled the clothes out of the bag.
I wasn’t sure what she was thinking but the outfit Angie had packed so wasn't me. Still, I needed to change my top at least. I pulled out a tight black t-shirt and threw it on. It showed every curve of my torso. It looked almost indecent with the way it clung to me. Then, I pulled out a skirt and a pair of ripped tights. When I’d said I wanted a change, I meant to look more sophisticated, not like a band moll.
I kept my jeans on with the t-shirt. I tried to pull the hem of the tee down so it covered my flesh but it just bounced back up again.
As I walked out, a girl with blonde frizzy hair rushed up to us.
"Which of you are the band?" she asked.
"They are, and I'm the manager," I replied.
Jack turned around to look at me, his tongue almost hanging out.
As we followed the blonde, he slid his hand into my back pocket.
"Love the new look," he whispered in my ear.
"You three, get to makeup. I'll go over everything with your manager.
As they ran through the song, sounding pretty damn good in my opinion, I chatted to the blonde girl who was the PA for the show. She seemed pretty into Spud, surprisingly enough.
"Sure, Jack's the good-looking o
ne in the band but he's a bit too pretty, you know."
"Huh?" I'd never have used "pretty" to describe him.
"I mean, he's got those long eyelashes and that pouty mouth. Even though he looks rough and ready on the surface, I bet he's full of angst."
Yep, looked like she'd pretty well summed him up.
"Are you two an item?"
Who even says that? Was she like 50 years old?
I didn't answer but I felt my cheeks burn. Still, if I was going to announce our item-ness, it would not be to this chick.
"Spud's got a real ruggedness to him, though. You can see from that wild look in his eyes."
"He's got a girlfriend."
The blonde shrugged like she didn't care about that kind of thing.
Even though it was only a rehearsal, Jack strutted around the stage as if he owned the place. That was him – I could imagine that even if he played for an audience of two people, he’d still be a rock star onstage. I couldn’t imagine that, not so long ago, I’d thought this was just wailing noise. This man, his words and they way he sang them, he could be someone amazing. He was someone amazing; it just needed the rest of the world to discover that.
And, right now, there was only one obstacle in the way of that. I wrapped my arms around myself, my lips quivering. Could I be that obstacle? I was the first to admit, I could be a little selfish. I’d never really had to consider someone else’s needs before. But could I let my selfish needs stand in his way of the band’s success?
I still felt the warmth of Jack’s embrace on my skin but how long would those feelings last? If I told him the truth, he’d have no reason to see me but if I didn’t tell him… I imagined a fury that would shake the ground and cause buildings to collapse.
Then, there was the whole money issue. If I walked away from the band, I may well be poor for the rest of my life. I had no back-up plan. If I walked away and they hit the big time, it’d be like walking away from a fortune. But then it was a fortune they could only make without me.
The spotlight shone on Jack Colt. It emphasized his cheekbones and the pouty bottom lip. It emphasized the tousle of his hair. It emphasized the strength of his body. That spotlight shone as if it’d been created for the sole purpose of shining on Jack Colt.
We all went to the green room after rehearsal. The PA brought in some beers and a platter of food.
"Where's Spud?" I asked. I hadn't seen him since rehearsal.
Jack shrugged, grabbing another sandwich.
"He's around. He's the sucker missing out on this food. These sandwiches are the best sandwiches in the history of sandwichdom."
He grinned at me, that look coming back into his eyes. I’d have been the happiest girl in the world at that moment if I could have returned that grin wholeheartedly.
I grabbed Angie’s hand and asked her to go to the bathroom with me. I couldn’t be this selfish person. I couldn’t be the obstacle.
I told Angie my plan.
"Huh? No way?" Angie said. "You’ve done nothing but help the band. Why would anyone care what your dad has done?"
I shrugged. That’s how life goes. Whether it was right or wrong, you couldn’t fight it.
"I can’t manage the band…"
"Yeah, you can. You totally can. It’s not like I know what I’m doing. I just make it up as I go along."
I looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. I’d thought she was a freak when I first met her but this person standing beside me was my closest friend in the whole world.
She put her hand over mine.
"I’ll do it but only until this mess is cleared up. Then I’m handing it all back to you."
I shook my head.
"No, it can’t work like that. I have to have nothing to do with the band at all. My name has to be totally unassociated with the whole thing."
She sighed. Then she smiled.
"Can I make them wear maid costumes and serve me cups of tea?"
I managed a weak grin.
"You’ll have to take that up with them."
When an assistant called out that it was ten minutes to airtime, Angie slipped out of the bathroom. I needed a minute to sort myself out.
I fixed my hair in the mirror. I needed my hair done but I sure as hell couldn’t afford that. I didn’t even recognize myself any more.
I opened the door but heard voices and closed it again. Angie had promised not to mention anything to the band and I didn’t want to tell them before they went on air. I wanted them calm and focused.
"Hey, Jack, I've got to talk to you. It's pretty urgent." That was Spud. Maybe he’d forgotten his lucky drumstick again.
I opened the door a crack.
"Melanie told me something…"
"Who's Melanie?" asked Jack.
"The PA. Blonde girl, greater hooters… anyway, she reckons we’re never going to get signed with Hannah as our manager. Hannah is deathly poison."
Jack laughed. As well he should. He believed in me. I knew it. I let out the breath I hadn't even realised I was holding.
"No kidding, mate. With all this scandal around her, and her old man, no one wants to touch her. Would you? That kind of shit is a killer. Melanie says they had a huge meeting before the show and it was a dead cert they weren't going to have us on. Because of her. You've got to get it, mate. She's a sinking ship and we've got to be the rats. We'd have been first pick otherwise, but this way, they called five other bands before us."
I waited for Jack to answer. For him to tell Spud it was a pack of lies and it didn't matter anyway. He'd stand by me. I opened the door even more so I could see his face and how he reacted.
Still, Jack didn't answer.
I sunk against the wall, waiting for Jack's response. I should've told him before. I should've told him in my own words instead of letting him hear all this nastiness from Spud and that backstabbing Melanie.
My jelly legs wouldn't move, even if I wanted to get out of the bathroom. I had to hold onto the wall just to stay upright. I needed to hear Jack say it was all right. I curled my hands, pinching my nails into the flesh of my hands, condensing my pain into that one place.
"Come on, mate. You want to dump her too. It's not like you give a rat's arse about her. You were the one who made the bet about buttering her up so we wouldn't have to deal with her stupid. 'We don't want no rich bitch playing at managing us', that's what you said. 'She'll be eating out of my hand in no time then we'll just do what we want.' I had respect for you when you said that, mate. Come on, have you boned her yet?"
Had Jack said that? Had he really? It made sense now. I gagged from the bile rising in my throat. Something hard and heavy pressed against my chest. I had to get out of this bathroom before I fainted. I had to get away.
I pushed the door open and marched down the corridor. Jack grabbed my arm as I walked passed.
"Hannah," he called. "Hannah, let me explain –"
I shook him off. I'd heard enough of his lies. Tears prickled at my eyes but I scrunched my face to stop them falling. I wouldn't cry and I wouldn't turn back. I'd just keep walking. I had nothing. I was a joke. You have to be stronger than anyone. But why did I have to be strong? What was there to be strong for?
"Have you boned her yet?" Those words rang in my ears. No, but he came damn close. And would've shared every last detail with Spud. The two of them laughing over how Jack had fooled me. All the caring words, all the soft touches were part of his game.
Even Angie, without the band to sweeten the deal, would she still be my friend? It'd never been me, not with anyone. It'd been what I had, money, the band.
"Five minutes to airtime. Get ready."
As I strode through the studio car park, I could hear him calling to me.
"Hannah, come back." His footsteps advanced on me and then they stopped.
"Jack, it's time to go on," Eric called. "Hurry up."
He'd go back. He'd disappear into the building because the one thing he cared about in this life was his band.
More than he cared about me, more than he cared about himself, even. He'd get on that stage and play and forget that he even knew me or that he'd destroyed my life. I kept walking through the car park. I'd walk to the train station and go home and pack my bags. Then where? The beach house was no good any more. I couldn't stay with Angie and I had nowhere else to go. But I'd been left with nothing before and had survived. I'd survive again. I'd go somewhere else and get a job. Work in a bar or something. And I'd never see bloody Jack Colt again.
I got to the train station with a couple of minutes to spare before the next train. I paced the platform, torn between wanting to go back and punch Jack Colt in the face and wanting to get far, far away. I couldn't go back. If he tried to explain, if he sweet-talked me, would I handle it? Would I believe his words because I wanted to? Far better to put as much distance as possible between me and Jack Colt.
My phone beeped. Bloody Jack Colt. He had nothing to say that I wanted to hear. You can't just say sorry about something like that. When had he made the deal anyway? Right at the beginning after that first gig? Or when I'd been drunk and vomiting? That would explain the kiss on the forehead. Or was it later?
Then it hit me. That day we'd made the video, how he'd changed from snarly to nice, and had taken me drinking. How he'd saved my life. Or had he? Maybe that was a trick too.
When I looked at the display, though, it wasn't Jack. It was Dad. I gulped back my tears. Of course, it wasn't Jack. He'd be on camera right now. He'd be working his magic and turning on that charm. Breaking more hearts but none of them broken more than mine. When he was on, he'd have forgotten he ever knew a girl called Hannah.
Up there, with the cameras on him, Jack would sparkle. They'd be sensational. Every girl, every woman, would want a piece of Jack Colt. This one appearance could make all his dreams come true.
"Have found a way to save the business, come to Thailand at once." That's what Dad's message said.
My tears fell heavily now. I could barely see to type out my reply. I'd be there. I'd be there on the next plane. Then Jack and Spud could laugh over me all they wanted. I wouldn't know. I'd be on a tropical beach sipping a cocktail out of a pineapple. I tried to smile but my mouth wouldn't go up at the corners. A woman sitting on a bench nearby pulled her child closer to her.