Westside Series Box Set

by Monica Alexander

  “What’s wrong with that?” I snapped, angry at her self-righteous take on my love life.

  She had no idea how hard it was to date. It was ridiculously hard to meet decent guys – even in a place like New York City. And she’d never had to deal with any of that. She’d broken up with her boyfriend Max after he asked her to move in with him, and she’d gone through a month of mild mourning before she met Henry and started dating him. She never had to work at dating, deal with online dating and dating apps and the horrible realization that even in a city with a million eligible guys, there wasn’t one who was halfway decent. No, Hannah had no idea what that was like, and on the day I found myself to be single yet again, I was a little resentful of her outlook.

  “I just told you there’s nothing wrong with that,” Hannah said. “But it worries me a little that you put so much faith in a guy before you even know him. I feel like these sorts of things happen to you a lot.”

  “Really?” I asked in disbelief. “Guys I date often have wives and kids they never told me about? Because I can tell you that has most definitely never happened before.”

  “That’s not what I’m saying, sweetie,” she said gently in that mothering way that came so naturally to her and made me not hate her for what she was saying.

  She’d always been the caretaker in our group of friends, and I’d apparently always been the train wreck. But she’d always been there for me, picking up my wrecked pieces, and I couldn’t deny that. I honestly owed her for all the times she’d lifted me off the floor and set me right again. I figured this would be another of those times.

  “Fine, then what are you saying?” I asked her, trying to keep the emotion out of my voice.

  “That maybe you shouldn’t try so hard to meet ‘the one’. Just date casually for a while, test out different guys, play the field. You’ve always liked to settle down, but so often you end up getting your heart broken when the guy turns out to be not who you expected. Maybe you should try to take some of the pressure off yourself.”

  I sighed. “You think?”

  She shrugged. “Dating sucks, Andi. I know that, but it might not be so bad if you don’t turn it into a means to an end. You’re only twenty-five, and you’re in no hurry to have kids. Have a little fun, and if it works out with a guy, great, but don’t try to force something with someone who’s not right for you.”

  She was right. I knew that, but I also couldn’t deny the little voice in my head, aka, my mother, that hadn’t been so silent lately, reminding me of my age and the necessity for me to get married and have babies. She didn’t appreciate that I was focused on my career and that kids weren’t really going to be in the cards for the next few years, but that was because she was from the south were women my age were already married with one or two kids. The path I’d taken in moving to New York was unconventional, and she didn’t understand it. Neither did my father.

  They supported it, though, because I’d rationally explained my reasons for wanting to live in the city, but I might have also promised I’d only be in New York for a few years. When I’d first moved, I figured I’d grow tired of the city and would want to eventually return home to Atlanta. My parents interpreted that as me taking some time to sow my wild oats before coming home and settling down with a nice southern guy – preferably my college boyfriend, Reid.

  But after four years, I wasn’t so sure I wanted to leave. I loved Atlanta, but I also loved New York. I was happy there. I could honestly see myself living there permanently, especially if I met the right guy. My parents wouldn’t be happy about that decision, but I figured they’d come around to it when and if I made it. Or at least I hoped they would.

  “So, you thought something was wrong with David?” I asked Hannah, going back to what had started this conversation in the first place.

  “I only met David once,” she reminded me.

  I eyed her pointedly. “And what was wrong with him?”

  She bit her lip, and I knew she’d been holding something back that she hadn’t shared with me in the month and a half since she’d met David. But that wasn’t Hannah. She didn’t openly offer her opinions when she knew they’d hurt someone. She was a good friend in that way, but sometimes I needed her to be honest with me. She’d seen fault in every guy I’d ever dated, but she never told me about it until after we’d broken up. By then the clarity was obvious to me too.

  “I didn’t trust him,” she said softly. “He had this way about him that made me think he was hiding something.”

  “Well, he was.”

  “You didn’t know that,” Hannah said gently.

  “I know.”

  “But it was more than that. The age difference between you guys concerned me.”

  “I’ve always dated older guys,” I reminded her. “They’ve always been more attractive to me.”

  “I know, but it wasn’t just that. You seemed different when you were dating him. His interests became yours, you dressed the way you thought he wanted you to dress, and you let him call you Andrea. No one’s ever called you that before.”

  I sighed as I let her words wash over me and looked up to see the dress I’d bought for David’s birthday that was hanging on my closet door. I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. I’d spent way more than I ever should have when I’d stepped into Barnies with the specific intent of finding something that would wow him. And I’d been doing that from the start.

  The thought made me cold, so I hugged myself around the middle as I remembered my first date with David. I’d opened the door to see him wearing a suit, and I was in jeans and heels. I’d told him to give me a minute, and then I’d changed into a dress and never looked back.

  From then on I’d slowly added things to my wardrobe that I knew he would like. I was honestly afraid to look at my credit card statement because I had a vague idea of how much I’d spent over the past few months, but I didn’t completely know. I also knew I wasn’t going to be able to pay it off for a long time, which just made me feel worse.

  I knew it was because of our age difference and because he was so mature and worldly that I’d felt like I had to constantly prove that I was enough for him. Hannah was right. I had changed, but what was worse is that I was slowly realizing that I did that with every guy I dated.

  “I think I want to be alone,” I said softly to Hannah who was watching me with concern.

  She nodded as she rose from my bed. “Of course. I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

  “What time’s Henry coming to pick you up?”

  She shook her head. “He’s not. I told him I wanted to stay in with you tonight.”

  “But it’s your weekend with him. Han, don’t change your plans on my account.”

  She smiled. “You’re my best friend. You need me. He’s just a boy.”

  I smiled as I shook my head. “He’s not just a boy. He’s your boyfriend, and you love him.”

  “He is, and he loves me. Because of that, he understood that tonight I need to be with you.”

  That was the difference between us. Hannah chose me over a guy without thinking twice. I’d never done that. I’d always felt like I’d been grasping so hard to the guys I’d dated that I was afraid to cancel on them or choose a friend over them, and I hadn’t ever realized I was guilty of doing that. I suddenly felt like a very shitty person.

  “Hannah, I’m so sorry,” I told her.

  “For what?” she asked, not understanding the moment of clarity I’d just had.

  “For being a bad friend all these years.”

  “What are you talking about, Andi? You’re a great friend. I love that you’re my bestie.”

  I smiled. “And I love you for that, but you’re right. I changed when I started dating David, and I’m realizing it’s kind of my pattern. I conform to who I think a guy wants me to be. I change for them, and I sacrifice everything else in my life for them. That’s not right.”

  “Andi, you’re not a bad person,” Hannah told me, seeing where my clar
ity was suddenly taking me. I was headed to a dark place that we both knew was going to end in more tears.

  “I know, but I’m not sure I even know who I am anymore.”

  That might have been a touch dramatic, but it had been a dramatic day. I was wallowing, and I was swimming in depression. Drama came with the territory.

  Hannah stood, leaned over and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “You’re my very best friend in the whole world,” she told me. “That’s who you are.”

  I sighed. “I think I just need some time to figure things out.”

  She nodded. “Then I’ll make you some tea. We’ll watch all those cheesy rom-coms we both hate to admit we love so much, we’ll order pizza, and you can figure things out.”

  “I’m not sure it’ll be that simple.”

  She shrugged. “But it’s a start.”

  I looked up at her bright blue eyes that held so much confidence and assuredness. Hannah knew who she was. It was time I figured out who I was.

  “You’re right. It is.”

  Chapter Two

  Cam

  I sighed as I leaned back against the couch in our hotel suite, idly strumming a few chords on my guitar and wondering how much I’d miss this when it was over.

  “What are you thinking?” Dillon asked from where he sat next to me playing Xbox.

  He wasn’t looking at me, but he knew that the melancholic tune I was strumming meant that something wasn’t right. I knew I played some version of that tune whenever something was bothering me, when I was just screwing around on my guitar, not really focused on a particular melody. It always came back to that haunting tune that didn’t really mean anything.

  “The tour’s over,” I told him while I continued to strum aimlessly. “Two more shows, and we’re done. I should be glad, right? I’ll get to sleep in my own bed. I won’t have to live out of a suitcase. I won’t have to eat fast food if I don’t want to.”

  “You’re sad that it’s over?” Dillon asked in disbelief. “Really?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe.”

  Dillon grinned as he deftly maneuvered his race car around a turn and pulled ahead of the pack of cars he was racing. “It has been a good year. But it’s also been a long year.”

  “Seven months,” I said, echoing what he was thinking.

  It was our longest tour to date, the third one we’d done since becoming a band, and our second headlining tour. The crowds had been insane, the fans as loyal as always, and we’d sold out every show. We’d been to four continents, too many cities to count, and for as exhausted as I was, for as zapped as my vocal chords felt, I still got a high from the energy of the crowd each night we played. That was what I’d miss – the feeling of truly being alive that only came from being on stage, from commanding the crowd, from performing.

  But even when we weren’t doing that, when we were on tour, I was with my boys. My bandmates were my best friends, and I’d gotten used to living with them. We’d been practically inseparable since March. When the tour was over, everyone was going to scatter. Dillon would go back to Michigan, because that’s where his girlfriend Meredith was going to school, Van would head home to Reno where he’d spend the winter snowboarding, and Phillip would stay in New York, since the apartment he’d bought and the Victoria’s Secret model he’d been sleeping with for the past four months were both there.

  I was the only one who didn’t really have anywhere to be. I was flying home to Detroit for Thanksgiving, and then I figured I’d go home again for a few days at Christmas, but being there any longer than that didn’t really appeal to me. Sure, my whole family was there, and I’d barely seen them over the past few years, but I wasn’t spending our entire break in a place I didn’t really like.

  My options were either staying with my dad, who lived a bachelor lifestyle in between working at the auto body shop he managed, staying with my brother, his girlfriend and their four month old son, Parker, who I had yet to meet, or staying with my mom, her husband Ted and my two step-siblings, who were eight and six. None of that sounded very appealing to me.

  Dillon and I had a house in L.A. that we’d bought the year before, so I figured I’d land there. We’d barely lived in the house, but it was ours, and it was secluded and right on the beach. I could surf, go out with friends, and find some mindless girls to bring home if I felt like company. It would all pass the time.

  I’d still have to travel occasionally when we started promoting the album we were releasing in January, and there were a handful of award shows and other events I’d have to attend, so I wouldn’t be entirely bored, but the idea of having three months off with no concrete plans wasn’t as appealing to me as I knew it was to the other guys. I was actually looking forward to tour rehearsals starting in February, and I think I was the only one.

  It was just that the band had become my life. Westside had taken over my every thought, because when we were on tour, our days were jammed packed with all things related to maintaining our success as a band. And we all had our parts. I smiled a lot, charmed the audience with my witty commentary, bantered during interviews, entertained the fans, sang, played my guitar, and generally had the time of my life being a goofy idiot. And I loved every single second of it.

  “This has been a long-ass tour,” Dillon said around a sigh. “I’m glad to be going home.”

  “That’s because you’re going to get laid when you get home,” I told him.

  “Damn straight. Shit, man, this hasn’t been easy. Not only do I get to watch you jackholes parade women past me each night, but I get to hear about it the next day while I sit there silently, because I have literally nothing to contribute to the conversation. I mean, what am I supposed to say, ‘Man, my hand really came through for me last night. It was an epic jerk-off’.”

  I laughed. “Dude, you’re pathetic.”

  “I know! Fuck. I can’t wait to see Mere. I’m seriously not letting her out of her bedroom for several days.”

  I turned to him. “Is it really worth it?”

  He looked over at me. “What? Meredith?”

  I nodded.

  “Yeah. Of course. I love her,” he said, as if it was that simple.

  “I know, but we have this life, this opportunity to do what we do, we’re rich as shit, and we have girls literally throwing themselves at us, because they all think we’ll fall in love with them and they can say they’re dating a guy from Westside. How can you turn your back on that?”

  Dillon gave me a look that said he thought I was bullshitting him. “When was the last time you slept with a fan?”

  “I never have, but that’s not the point. If I wanted to sleep with one, they’re readily available. And there are also tons of other legitimate girls who I actually do sleep with, and you know I’d never have gotten those opportunities if I wasn’t famous. It’s just the way the world works. Why not take advantage of it?”

  I knew I sounded like a dick, but I really wasn’t. I was just a realist, and there were a few things I’d come to know as the truth since I’d become a member of one of the hottest boy bands in the world. And a plethora of women wanting to sleep with me was just one of those truths.

  But aside from that, one of the other things I’d learned was that having a girlfriend and doing what we did wasn’t easy. Given our schedule and all the things I’d just outlined for Dillon, a girlfriend was the last thing I wanted. My life was good, and I was free to do what I wanted when I wanted. Why complicate things with what would have to be a long distance relationship that would likely fail anyway? It just wasn’t worth it in my opinion.

  “I can turn my back on it all, because I love my girlfriend,” Dillon said, telling me what I already knew. We’d had this conversation before, but every now and then I asked again just to make sure he hadn’t changed his mind. “Meredith was there for me when I decided to audition, and she’s been there for me ever since. It’s not easy dating long distance, and it’s ten times worse, because people drag our relationship through the mu
d every other day. She puts up with a hell of a lot, but that’s one of the things I love most about her.”

  I guess a part of me had to agree with him. Dillon and Meredith had been through a lot as a couple, including hiding their relationship for the first year we were a band. We were just starting to make it big, and our management company didn’t want any of us to be tied down, so they told Dillon he had to appear single. Mere and Dillon had been okay with that until management had brought up the idea of him ‘dating’ Sydney Chase, a pop star whose career was on fire. That kind of blew up after a few months, and then Dillon had laid down an ultimatum. He and Meredith were able to be a real couple after that.

  But if they thought that would be the end of the drama, they were wrong. The rumors that flew about me and my bandmates on any given day were sometimes out of control. We were constantly linked to people we hugged or stood too close to at events. Speculation about who we were dating and who we’d slept with ran rampant, and it was the fans who made it worse, using social media to get information – false or otherwise – out in mass. It was exhausting trying to keep up with all the rumors, so after a while we just tried to ignore them.

  Of course there was one consistent rumor that had followed us around since the beginning, and that was that Dillon and I were in a secret relationship. We weren’t. We’d never kissed. We’d never experimented with each other to see what it might be like. We’d never even given each other a look that could be considered to be ‘laced with want’, but too many people seemed to feel like we did that on a regular basis.

  Our fans were constantly examining our interactions, things we said, gestures we made. There were extensive YouTube videos looking back at interviews we’d done, interactions we’d had on stage and on red carpets, anything really that could be twisted and interpreted as proof that we were together. And some of our fans truly believed we were a couple.

  The truth was, we’d been best friends since practically birth, so we knew each other better than we knew ourselves sometimes. Anything that was exchanged between us probably did have an undertone of love, but it was bro love and nothing more. I was closer to Dillon than I was to my real brother. We’d been inseparable for too many years for there not to be a closeness between us, and we were silly and playful and pretty much dumbasses whenever the mood struck. Sometimes that was in public and the camera caught it. It didn’t mean we came back to the bus at night, crawled into the same bunk and fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms.