Trouble Brewing
Page 1
Trouble Brewing
Selena Kitt
Contents
EXCLUSIVE to Newsletter Subscribers
Book Description
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
About Selena Kitt
Selena Kitt’s Other Works
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Moxie: By Selena Kitt
High school senior, Moxie, agrees to be moral support for her friend, Patches, who is totally enamored with a college boy, so she says yes to a double date, even though she has to lie to her parents to do it.
But Moxie wasn’t counting on lying about her age to get into an X-rated movie, and she definitely wasn’t counting on her date’s Roman hands and Russian fingers, or the fact that the pants she’s borrowed from Patches are several sizes too small. By the end of the night, Moxie finds herself in far more trouble than she bargained for!
Book Description
When I met Tyler Cook, it was the end of a past I didn’t want to look back on and the beginning of a future I couldn’t wait to start.
One lick of Tyler, and that’s all it took. I was addicted. To him, to his wild, raucous life as a rock star on the road with the band Trouble, and eventually, to most of the drugs I discovered he was taking to make that life—and the secrets he was being forced to keep—a little more bearable.
But I couldn’t quit him, no matter how much it hurt. If you met Tyler, you’d understand why I think he’s so worth it. The man plays guitar like he f*cks—plugged in, turned on, and set to the ultimate high. Every girl wants him but I’m the only girl he wants.
Now he’s clean, he’s mine, and I have everything I could have ever dreamed of.
Until it all comes unplugged and our world goes blacker than black. And then I have to decide if the tormented, broken man I love more than anything is worth everything—even risking my own life.
Chapter One
It was all my fault my best friend nearly died.
It was all my fault.
I mean, I was pretty used to taking the blame for everything when it came to Sabrina. That was our friendship in a nutshell, really. Everyone knew Katie was synonymous with fucking up, and if there was trouble, I was the probable cause. But what happened to Bree was so my fault I wanted to crawl into a hole and die afterward, and probably would have, if it hadn’t been for Tyler.
Honestly, if I wanted to deflect, I could have blamed Tyler—he was the one who came back and clouded my head. Once I was in his arms, it was like cotton candy had gotten stuffed between my ears, but it was so fucking dizzying and sweet I could barely stand it.
I let myself fall into him again. It was like cliff diving, a free fall into nothing and everything at once. I’d been anticipating it so long, I thought seeing him again might actually be a disappointment. You know how you feel, Christmas morning, after all the presents are unwrapped and everyone sort of goes their own way to take a shower or get something to eat? Sort of let down and deflated?
I’d built up our reunion so much in my head, I thought maybe it would feel like that afterward.
Holy hell, was I wrong.
Not that it was all roses and rainbows and unicorns either. It was more like an endless sort of roller coaster ride, where the anticipation going up gave you butterflies and the ride down into the valley was so exhilarating—and, let’s face it, kind of scary—you almost forgot to breathe.
But I had no idea it was going to be like that when I flew into LAX with Sarah.
“Jesse!” Sarah threw her arms around a tall, tanned surfer-type who hefted her bag with one arm and the slight, dark haired girl in the other, accepting her kiss on his cheek with a grin. “Oh my God, is it good to see you. You’re always the first sign I’m really home.”
“You mean, besides seeing ‘In-and-Out Burger’ as you land?” He laughed, reaching for my bag, which I relinquished.
“Oh, don’t tempt me.” Sarah wrinkled her nose. She had porcelain skin, like a doll, even though she spent most of her time in the California sun. Her cheeks looked even paler next to the dark contrast of her hair. “Did Daisy make anything yummy? I’m starving.”
“She’s Daisy—she’s been cooking for days.” The driver turned to cock his head at me. “This must be Katie?”
“Oh, sorry. Katie, this is Jesse,” Sarah said, making the introductions. “He’s Trouble’s chauffeur, handyman and guy-who-can-get-things.”
“Like a tour angel?” I asked, thinking of Celeste. She was still on tour with Trouble in Europe. She’d been a life-saver, more than once. “Only, you know, at home?”
“Oh, no.” Jesse laughed, shaking his head. “Celeste is our angel-of-all-things, on tour or off. I just drive everyone around because I know where everything is.”
“He also plays bartender sometimes,” Sarah piped up. “Makes a mean Margarita.”
Jesse gave her a dark look and she shrugged one shoulder.
“I didn’t ask you to make me one.” She stuck her tongue out at him and I remembered—Sarah’s drug of choice had been alcohol. And she technically wasn’t even quite old enough to drink yet.
“Come on, you two.” Jesse turned and headed toward the sliding glass doors. “Daisy’s probably made three more cakes and a roast beef since I left.”
California was everything I’d ever dreamed of—warm breezes, palm trees, tons of traffic. I’d been fantasizing about moving to California for years. Somewhere in this state, my father was living with his new wife and my little sister, who I had only met once.
One time.
My father had finally made the trip to Michigan just this year to see me for the first time since my parents divorced when I was a kid. Too bad I had to go into rehab to make that happen. When he hugged me in the lobby of the treatment center, I remember thinking, Gee, Dad, if I’d known that’s all it would take, I would have gotten addicted to heroin a lot sooner.
But I didn’t say it.
My therapist had put me on a snark-diet while I was in treatment. I was supposed to suppress my first urge to say something sassy, and “look deeper” into my feelings. When I told him that was a deep well, and the water down there wasn’t safe for drinking, he gave me that look again.
No snark, Katie. Be real.
Okay, so if I was being real, the butterflies in my stomach weren’t just from the plane ride. I was feeling a combination of excitement and dread that I couldn’t even define. Jesse put our bags in the trunk of a very nice-looking Bentley while I got into the back with Sarah. She seemed to sense my unease and reached over, squeezing my hand.
“He’ll be back tomorrow,” she said, as if she needed to remind me. My thoughts were filled with Tyler. “And I already called Rob as soon as we got off the plane. He insists. Worrywort.”
I smiled when she rolled her eyes and then crossed them. Rob was Trouble’s lead singer—Tyler played lea
d guitar—and that’s whose house we were headed to in the hills. They all lived there. Well, not the whole band—just Tyler and Rob. Sarah was a former addict and close friend of the band who just happened to live with them both.
When I asked Tyler how, exactly, that had come about—yeah, I admit, I was more than a little curious and, well, jealous—Tyler said Rob had met her in recovery and they’d sort of bonded over that. At some point, Sarah had become homeless, and Rob had taken her in like a stray puppy and she’d been living with them ever since.
I’d still been kind of jealous, until Sarah told me she was a lesbian. Then it suddenly made more sense and I could relax about it. Because I couldn’t imagine a straight girl living with Rob Burns and Tyler Cook from Trouble without an ulterior motive. That much panty-melting testosterone in one place? What girl could possibly resist? But maybe I was biased.
Sarah didn’t want them—not like that. But she loved them both, that much was clear. Rob and Tyler treated her like a little sister. To me, in the past few months, Sarah became my next-best-friend, next to Sabrina, who’d been my bestie forever. Sarah had come to my rescue, after my near-overdose. That had happened after I had left Trouble’s tour bus—and Tyler—behind. And that was how I ended up in rehab in the first place.
Rob had asked her to look after me, like calling in the cavalry, and she had been amazing. After I was out of rehab, we’d both moved into Sabrina’s place—Sabrina had gone on Trouble’s European tour. Tyler had wanted me to come, too, but that’s how we’d gotten into trouble—every pun intended—in the first place.
Maybe Sabrina had been smart not to take Rob up on his first offer to go on tour with Trouble. Me, though—I’d jumped at the chance when Tyler asked. It was crazy enough, running into Tyler and Rob backstage, but then hooking up with our dream-rock-stars and being invited on tour? It was a dream come true! Sensible Sabrina though, had to stay behind for her job as an elementary school teacher. Carefree Katie, on the other hand, had practically set a speed record packing and getting on that bus.
I never could resist an adventure.
But life on the road had landed me into a world of hurt, including a giant heroin-laced monkey on my back I’d just managed to shake. Going on tour again would have just plunged me back into it, and while Tyler had gotten clean, too, I just knew myself too well to risk both his recovery and mine by throwing caution to the wind and going on tour with Trouble again so soon.
Not that being apart hadn’t been torture. I ached for him, wanted him every minute of the day, and doubted my decision with every phone call. But Sarah had been there, making sure I went to my meetings, helping me sort through and pack all Sabrina’s things, and my own. She had been a shoulder to cry on and a rock to lean on, and I didn’t know what I would have done without her.
She’d been the one who helped me button everything up back home in Michigan before we left. Sabrina’s car was being driven across country—I’d sold mine—and our stuff had been shipped ahead to Rob’s house. If it weren’t for Sarah’s incredible organizational skills, I was fairly sure I would have fallen apart trying to do it all myself. It was an overwhelming task for the two of us as it was, but we’d gotten it done.
The plan was to fly in and get settled before Tyler came home tomorrow. He had a much longer flight than ours. I hadn’t seen him since Trouble left for the European leg of their tour, although we talked several times a day, and Skyped before I went to bed every night. I honestly felt closer to him now than ever, even though we hadn’t physically touched in months.
But I had to admit, the thought of Tyler’s hands on me, his mouth on mine, was enough to make my stomach flip. It was doing somersaults in there. Sarah kept talking about Daisy—who I could only assume was Trouble’s cook—and her infamously delicious food, but I couldn’t think about eating. I couldn’t think about anything or anyone but Tyler.
I was only peripherally paying attention to the scenery—so many palm trees were a visual affront when I was used to pine—until Jesse pulled the car up to a set of giant, wrought-iron gates. There was a camera mounted over a keypad, and I shook my head, incredulous, as Jesse punched a code into it, he waved to the security guys on-screen, and the gate swung slowly open.
The car wound up a long drive and stopped in front of the biggest house I’d ever seen in my life. Sarah was already scrambling out of the car, before Jesse could even open his door, and I saw someone waiting on the wide, front porch steps. I assumed it was Daisy—who else would be wearing a flour-dusted apron? I thought she would be a little more matronly, but she couldn’t have been much older than me.
The two women laughed together, embracing, and I hung back, feeling out of place. It was just hitting me, what I’d left behind. My whole life, really, such as it was. And for what? To move to a whole new state across the country, a place I’d never been to, into a house I’d never seen before—and what a house! More like mansion, really. A bridge spanned water that surrounded the house like a moat, leading to a set of double doors where Sarah and Daisy were talking. I looked into the water, searching for fish, but it was so clear and blue I could see to the bottom.
“You can go for a swim later if you want,” Jesse told me, pulling the bags out of the trunk. “I assume you brought a suit.”
“It’s a swimming pool?” I gaped at him in disbelief. “Are you kidding me?”
“Diving board’s out back,” Jesse replied. “In the deep end. Fifteen feet.”
“And it goes all the way around the house?” I shook my head. “It’s like a freaking castle!”
“Yeah, I guess it’s impressive, the first time you see it.” Jesse chuckled, hauling my bag out of the trunk and closing it.
I took a step forward, holding out my hand to get my suitcase. “Here, I’ll—”
“No, ma’am.” He shook his head, pulling my bag toward him, just out of my reach. “I’ll take it up to your room.”
“Ma’am?” I snorted. “I castrated the last guy who called me ‘ma’am’…”
“I believe you.” Jesse laughed, moving my bag again when I went to grab for it. “But I’m still taking your bag up to your room. Let me do my job, okay?”
“Okay,” I agreed and then grinned. “But don’t steal all my heroin.”
Sarah gave me a dark look from the porch—she’d obviously heard me.
“I’m kidding!” I called, giving her a wave. “I kid!”
“Katie, come here!” She waved me over and I left Jesse and our bags to join both women on the wide front porch.
“Daisy, this is Katie.” Sarah took my hand and squeezed it as I pulled my purse strap up on my shoulder and held my other one out to shake hands with Daisy.
“Nice to meet you.” Daisy had a wide, genuine smile, and small, warm hands. She clasped my hand in both of hers, hazel eyes sweeping over me in quick assessment.
“You too,” I said, wondering how many of “Tyler’s girls” she’d welcomed to the house, but I wasn’t about to ask. “Sarah has only wonderful things to say about you—and your food.”
“And I’m seriously starving for real food,” Sarah complained. “I’ve been living on Pop-Tarts and Ramen for months. And all I had on the plane was a packet of peanuts. What did you make me for lunch?”
“Grilled cheese and tomato soup.” Daisy smiled, turning to push the front door open, her brunette ponytail bouncing as she stepped into the house.
“That’s not gourmet food,” I protested, a little offended by Sarah’s opinion of my pantry and grocery-shopping skills. So, we’d been living on Captain Crunch and Spaghetti-O’s. What was wrong with that? “Even I can make grilled cheese and tomato soup.”
“This isn’t Campbell’s and Kraft slices, Katie.” Sarah laughed over her shoulder, pulling me into the house. “Not even close.”
She wasn’t kidding.
I followed Sarah, who followed Daisy, through a giant foyer that practically echoed when we talked, a chandelier hanging high above. There was a wid
e, curving staircase, but we went past that, all the way down a hallway to the back of the house. Daisy pushed open a door into the biggest kitchen I’d ever set foot in. It was like something out of a magazine.
Lunch was like something out of a magazine, too. The soup was tomato bisque, with little bits of herbs in it, and the grilled cheese was absolute perfection. Daisy said the cheese was something called Jarlsberg. I’d never had it before, but it was like creamed velvet on my tongue. Sarah moaned over her meal like a woman having the best sex of her life—not that I could blame her.
It was almost as good as sex. Almost.
When we were done eating, Daisy suggested Sarah take me around the house, just to help me get familiar.
“Familiar?” I snorted, sipping my water. I was stuffed. But I’d brought strawberry Pop-Tarts and granola bars to eat on the plane. “You could get lost looking for the bathroom in this house.”
“I have.” Daisy laughed. “It takes a while to get used to. But you should at least show her to Tyler’s room, Sarah. Let her get unpacked?”
Unpacked.
Was this really happening? Was I really going to live here?
“Do you want the grand tour?” Sarah stood and stretched, groaning like she’d eaten too much, too. Then she yawned. “I could use a long nap.”
“Jetlag?” Daisy asked, starting to clear our dishes.
“Nothing compared to what Rob and Ty are gonna have.” Sarah shook her head, glancing at her watch. It was small and delicate, the face surrounded by little diamonds. “We only had a three-hour time change.”