Dirty Boys: Bad Boy Rock Star Romance Box Set

by Jade C. Jamison

  I had no words. It hadn’t occurred to me that Ethan and I had been arguing loudly, but Brad’s words hit home. I knew Ethan had been pushing my comfort zones and smothering me, and I’d been pushing back. I hadn’t realized I’d been so vocal about it. Just hearing Brad say that made me realize I wanted to put a lid on it. I found it embarrassing, and I just nodded and dropped it. Out of all the people in the world, Brad was the last one I wanted upset or angry…especially if it was because of something I’d done.

  I knew we’d stay and watch the other two shows, and I was glad about that. Last Five Seconds had become one of my favorite local bands, and I looked forward to hearing them again. They’d gained enough prestige that they were—for lack of a better word—the headliners of the show.

  I left my encounter with Brad, trying to focus not on his words, not on Ethan’s problems, but on me. And, for now, I just wanted to lighten my mood. I wanted to just rock out for a while, and I planned to head out to the audience myself to do just that. But I decided to go around to the front by walking outside, rather than going through the backstage area. I didn’t want to face Brad—or any of my other bandmates—again for a while.

  I approached the corner of the building. It was dark, but I saw a couple of guys standing by the side. There was intermittent light from some of the tall parking lot lights, but I couldn’t make out faces. I heard, “Nice tat,” and I knew it was directed at me, even though I wondered why the big deal over the one skinny tattoo. I looked over at the two guys and started walking toward them.

  As I got closer, I was able to make them out. Zane was one of them, but the person who’d said something to me was Clayton. And even in the dark, he was as cute as ever. “You talking to me?”

  “I’m talking to the sexy chick with the secret boyfriend who went and got herself a hot tattoo.”

  Sweet Jesus…talk about forward. If I’d been single… “Ah…I see I’m talking to Jet.”

  “The one and only.”

  Zane grinned. “Hey, catch ya later. I gotta go see what pussy I can score.”

  I stopped myself from rolling my eyes. Yeah, Zane was probably going to see if he could score a little action in the van before we bailed, but I knew he was leaving because he was uncomfortable with the flirting going on and probably didn’t want to be a witness in case Ethan asked later.

  I leaned my shoulder up against the wall. I saw no harm in flirting. I’d never cheat on Ethan, but Clayton was cute and sweet and irresistible. He said, “So…I feel pretty fucking stupid. I should have figured out who your secret boyfriend was a long time ago. Not so secret.”

  I shrugged. “Yeah…not really secret, I guess. Uh…he’d just wanted to keep it under wraps for a while.”

  The look on his face told me he wasn’t going to venture any further. “So you finally got some ink. Planning to get more soon?”

  “Probably. When I can afford it.”

  “Ah, yes. There is the cost. If you want quality and cleanliness, you should pay well.”

  I nodded. “So…got any new songs I should listen for?”

  “Fuck, yeah. We always have new shit to play. Keeps it interesting.”

  “I’ll be listening for it.”

  “Front row? Should I look for you?”

  “We’ll see.”

  He smiled, but there was nothing friendly about it. Oh, no…it was dangerous. It was his Jet smile, and it made my toes curl. “Boyfriend be with you?”

  I smiled back, but I hoped mine seemed as innocent as I tried to make it. “Guess we’ll have to see.” I stopped leaning on the wall, intent to get the hell out of there. “He’ll definitely be around, so behave yourself, Clayton…I mean, Jet.”

  “Got that right, sexy. See ya around.”

  Oh, God…the way his voice purred. It was a good thing he wasn’t vocalist for his band too, or Ethan might have had a hell of a time keeping me close. Fortunately, as I got a little farther away, I had an easier time controlling myself. Whew. I needed a bottle of water and the fresh air was helping too. What was it about Jet that got my engines revving?

  Chapter Twenty-six

  I MANAGED TO stay faithful…through Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the New Year, even seeing Jet at the occasional concert, including one of ours at which he wasn’t playing. I guess he was trying to gauge the seriousness of my relationship with Ethan.

  Well, it was serious, even though it was heated and stormy. Ethan was often moody, and he continued indulging in various substances. He managed to maintain from day to day, but there would be days he’d just lie on the couch, seeming to contemplate the meaning of life, and I knew he was just baked out of his gourd. I took Brad’s advice and didn’t lecture Ethan about it, much as I’d wanted to.

  I was in denial, though, if I’d thought he was staying faithful to me. The fact that he never had a condom on him should have been my first clue, but it wasn’t. That he couldn’t be found frequently should have been another. There were no undeniable signs—no times he’d be on the phone and push me away or hang up suddenly, no weird hickeys on his neck, no girls getting in my face to challenge me. There was just the tiny doubt in my mind that I easily pushed aside.

  But at a particular show we were playing in January, I could deny it no longer…not that I had a choice. Ethan was trashed—he’d been drinking, that much I knew, but he’d taken something else and was in one of his near-comatose states, one of the ones that made me nervous for his well-being. He’d stumbled offstage and nearly passed out, but Brad and Nick helped him up and out. When I went to the van to check on him, though, he was gone. And when I asked Nick about it, he just shrugged his shoulders.

  I made my way back through to the front of the house. The next band hadn’t started yet, and I started asking people I knew if they’d seen Ethan. I was getting worried. What happened if he passed out somewhere and really did go into a coma, or what if he lost consciousness and choked on his own vomit? I’d read too many stories over the years of musicians killing themselves with their drugs, and if I could help it, Ethan was not going to be one of them.

  I went backstage again near the bathroom area. There were some musicians hanging around talking, guys I’d met multiple times before. I asked them if they’d seen Ethan. I think by then most of them knew we were a couple. All the guys said no…except one. He didn’t say anything but kept looking at the bathroom door.

  The backstage bathroom was a unisex one, a tiny, cramped space with just a toilet, a small sink, a mirror, and paper towel holder. Even the trashcan was small. I walked over to it and knocked on the door. I didn’t want to make Ethan uncomfortable or make him feel like I was invading his privacy, but I had to know he was okay.

  There was no answer, so I knocked again. I heard a moan, and it sounded like Ethan, and I just assumed the worst—that he was lying in a pool of vomit, dying.

  I tested the doorknob, grateful it wasn’t locked, or I’d have to beg someone to help me knock it down. The room was so tight, I almost accidentally rammed the doorknob into the redhead’s skull. Yep, that’s right. Ethan was up against the wall with a skinny thing on her knees, his dick in her mouth. And not only did I see it, I know a lot of the guys behind me saw it too, and I’m sure a good many of them were cheering him on in silence.

  I felt…so many things. The first was anger. I was angry that I’d been worried when I really hadn’t needed to. And then I was embarrassed…which I wouldn’t have been (at least as much) if other people hadn’t been around. Last, though, I felt betrayed. Alone. Unloved. This man had sworn his love to me. No, he’d never promised fidelity nor had we even discussed it. I’d just kind of taken it for granted. I’d given him my virginity, for heaven’s sake. The least he could do would be to tell me he planned on drinking from other wells.

  I didn’t say anything. I just closed the door and backed away. Yeah, he saw me but all he did was roll his eyes.

  I just went to the van and cried. Hours later, the guys joined me—long after the tears had s
topped—and Brad asked if everything was okay. They’d been looking for me, and Brad was worried. I shrugged and told him I was sorry.

  Nothing from Ethan. Nothing.

  So I decided it was over. But he had some stupid hold over me. The next day he begged for my forgiveness and told me he loved me. He called me his muse, for God’s sake, something he hadn’t called me in a long time. His eyes even welled up with tears when he said it was the drugs—they impaired his judgment. He couldn’t quit them, though, and that’s when he also said he couldn’t quit me.

  I considered it for a day or so. Did I really want to send him the message that it was okay to shit all over me?

  I loved him, though, and poison or not, I couldn’t turn him away.

  He tried to be better. For the next month, he’d eased off on the drugs and been close to my side, but I was stupid to think he would change. I believed it, though, with everything in me. It would take more than a little indiscretion to change my mind.

  * * *

  My eyes were closed. Oh…that felt nice, so tantalizing. A warm mouth on my nipple, my areola, the tongue teasing its tip. And somehow it was all magnified, more intense than usual. Oh, God. And I heard hard and heavy music in the background…maybe Suicide Silence. I couldn’t quite tell.

  I felt fuzzy, surreal, as it continued. I moaned in pleasure and felt my back arch upwards toward the source of pleasure. Then I felt a tongue trace a trail down my cleavage as I heard Ethan’s voice in my ear.

  Wait. Something wasn’t right.

  I opened my eyes. The light was dim. There were some candles lit across the room, and I tried to get my bearings, but I was having a hard time focusing. Nothing seemed real. But in the shadows, I could see a young woman with short blonde hair leaning over me, looking up at me from my breasts. Ethan was closer, right by my face, talking in my ear, but I couldn’t make out his words.

  My heart was pounding in my chest and I sat up. “Stop.” My voice came out weaker than I’d intended, but I couldn’t get my bearings. Nothing was as it should have been. I didn’t know where I was or how the hell I’d gotten here.

  The blonde placed her hand on my breast and kissed my shoulder. “Oh, don’t leave.”

  “Val…”

  This time with more force. “Stop.” My mouth felt like terrycloth, my eyes like sandpaper. I blinked a few times, trying to focus, and then decided to hell with it. I groped my way to the edge of the bed and got up, still feeling the girl’s hand on my shoulder. Once on my feet, I stumbled toward the door. I placed my hand on the cool doorknob and looked behind me to see Ethan and the blonde in an embrace, their tongues clashing. They weren’t missing me much.

  I twisted the doorknob, feeling the beat of the music inside me. It still didn’t feel quite real, and I thought to myself, I know this goddamned song, but I couldn’t figure it out. Maybe if I could get into some real light, maybe if I could figure out where the fuck I was, maybe…

  So I opened the door and, just as I’d suspected, I was hard hit with light and sound. It was overwhelming. The light…so bright, so overpowering. And the sound—like a concert in my soul. I couldn’t process it all…it was way too much.

  But then my brain forced itself to work, and the edges of my reality became clearer. I was in the hallway of my apartment facing the kitchen. And the music was coming from beyond there, maybe the living room. Maybe from the new sweet stereo Brad’s mom had bought him for Christmas. The kitchen was full of people, loud, boisterous, laughing happy people, none of whom seemed familiar to me in the least. And they were all staring at me. This must have been a bad dream.

  It was then that I realized I was completely topless. No wonder they were staring at me. Especially the guys. And this was real…right?

  Fuck.

  Still, it didn’t feel completely real. But I wrapped my arm over my breasts just the same.

  That’s when Brad appeared. He looked concerned, and he rushed to my side. “Val? You okay?”

  I’m sure I looked like an idiot, just staring at him. Was I okay? I didn’t know. But he wrapped his arm around me and led me to my room.

  He sat me on my bed and then started looking around my room. He found the robe I hung on the closet doorknob and brought it over, wrapping it over my shoulders. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know.” That was my first response, but tears started falling down my cheeks. I didn’t know why. But then it all came back to me as Brad pulled me into his chest, just letting me cry.

  It was mid-March, and we’d just finished our biggest show ever. The audience was huge and on fire, and we’d made the most money we ever had. I started to think I could start to consider quitting my job. There were two other bands playing that night—one that we’d played with multiple times (and, truth be told, probably the one that had really drawn in the crowd)—and another that we’d never played with before. Brad was happier than I’d seen him in a long time. In fact, he was ecstatic, and I could see in his eyes what I felt deep inside.

  He knew I didn’t have to work the next day, and neither did he, so he invited both bands and their guests to our place for a party.

  We’d never had a party at our place before, but we knew it was acceptable in our building. We’d had to try to sleep through parties on our floor before. Brad had just turned twenty-one, so I suspected it was also a reason for him to make his first liquor store run.

  Back at the apartment, people started filling in fast. Brad set up a bar of sorts on the kitchen counter, along with plastic cups and a bag of ice in the sink. Ethan was drinking and had taken something to go with it. He was on the couch, talking with a girl with short blonde hair. He hadn’t cozied up with her, but I figured it was inevitable. I’d have to go over there and insert myself at some point, but first Brad had requested my presence in the kitchen.

  “I know you’re not comfortable drinking, Val, but I bought this with you in mind.”

  “What?”

  “Butterscotch schnapps.”

  “Why for me?”

  “It’s smooth. I thought you might want to get a little buzz on. You helped propel us to where we are now.”

  I smiled. “Why do you want me trashed?”

  “I don’t. I just want you to feel good…just a little. You deserve it.”

  I nodded my head. “Okay.”

  So we did a shot together. Brrr. It warmed a trail down to my tummy but made me shiver. “How’s that feel?”

  “Pretty good.”

  “Okay. Just one more. As tiny as you are, I don’t dare let you drink more than that.”

  Tiny? That almost made me laugh, but he was right—I’d become thin…not scary thin, but it was definitely different from when he’d first met me. So I did a second shot with him. I started to feel a little relaxed but just figured that was the power of suggestion.

  In my ear, he said, “Now…half an hour from now, you don’t feel like you’ve got a buzz on, come back. I’ll hook you up.” He hugged me then, a warm embrace, and I hadn’t fully expected it. Yes, Brad and I were close, and it wasn’t the first time he’d hugged me, but I wasn’t quite sure where it was coming from. “In the meantime, though…” He grabbed one of the clear plastic cups he’d bought for the occasion. He put a handful of ice inside and poured water in it. Then he handed it to me. “Nurse this.”

  I grinned at him. “Thanks, Brad.” I had a mission, though, and that was to make sure Ethan’s cheating ass was behaving itself. I couldn’t trust him anymore. “See you in a while.”

  I made my way through the bodies toward the couch. Sure enough, Blondie was closer to Ethan, her hand on his thigh. Damn it. That was my man. I was tired of girls staking their claim when he was not available, and I was tired of him taking them all up on their offers.

  So I walked straight over to him and sat on the other side of him. “Hey, babe. Glad you could join us.”

  Us? That was a great way to piss me off. But he just grabbed me around the back of my neck and pulled me into
an erotic kiss. Jesus. It felt like he was going to fuck me right there on the couch.

  Typical Ethan. But I didn’t stop him because it was sending a message to the little skank trying to steal my man.

  His tongue didn’t stop. He thrust inside me with aggression more than once until I felt a little spark, but then he stopped. “How you feelin’, babe?”

  I tried not to look sad. “All right.”

  The girl leaned over Ethan, placing her hand on my thigh instead of Ethan’s. Well, maybe she was just a handsy individual. I took a gulp of my water. Ethan said, “Kandy really likes the band.”

  The girl named Kandy purred. “Oh, I really loved you. You are so sexy onstage.”

  Was she talking to me? I took another gulp of water, feeling nervous again. What the hell was Ethan up to? I managed to squeak out, “Thanks.”

  And that’s when it hit me. My vision started to get black and fuzzy around the edges and things started to feel…not quite real. My grip on what was going on was loosening. I blinked a couple of times and took another sip. “You okay?” Ethan asked.

  “Um…maybe.” Whoa. If this is what alcohol did, I’d have to avoid it or drink less. But I’d drunk it before, just not a couple of straight shots. This was hitting me harder and faster. Kandy snaked her hand around behind Ethan’s shoulder and started playing with my hair. Okay…that was overly friendly. She was starting to creep me out a little, but nothing seemed real.

  I looked over at the poster-sized print of the Eiffel Tower I’d bought last fall to decorate in our Spartan living room. I kept staring at it as time seemed to slow to a crawl. It appeared to hover a foot away from the wall. And then my eyes were glued to it, fascinated. How was that happening? It was just hovering there, as though magnetically propelled away from the wall. And that was the last thing I remembered.