With a sigh, I put my glasses back on and adjust them. Then I pick up the pen again. “There must be something in my head that I can use.” I have no idea how to concentrate on the words I want to write when my thoughts are filled with nothing but Alexis. That man even creeps into my dreams, and his image haunts my waking hours, even though he’s not around. I keep thinking about what we did, keep seeing his smile, hearing his voice in my head. Why does he have to be this forbidden taboo? I don’t want to fall in love, but the more I think about him, the more I recognize the great stuff about him, despite the fact that he calls himself an asshole. And bad boys are just so much more attractive than softies. You realized that my eyes are the windows into my soul. You realized that your words are feathers that caress my skin. Your arms hold me tight when I feel that I’m falling … I write down the words that had just formed in my head. It’s better to have a few disjointed fragments than nothing at all. I can work with fragments, juggling and assembling them to build something that may turn into a song in the end. I don’t think I’ll ever be famous, unless I’m ready to embarrass myself by signing up for one of these casting shows, where wannabe experts sit in judge’s chairs and pick my performance apart, and then the audience voting me out. Nothing better than that. Yeah, sarcasm is my second nature, but I can’t shake the feeling that I’m not going to make it, and that is mostly because Jayden and Mr. Young put me through the mill this morning until I felt ten inches smaller. Imagine having sex with someone once or twice, and then his friends descend on you and treat it like a matter of national security. It all feels so weird, and I honestly don’t know why everyone is this upset. After all, it was only sex. Well, I’m not the kind of person to give up without a fight, and I won’t give up on this either.
Chapter 8
One week later
Alexis has been released from the hospital five days and he’s been avoiding me like the plague ever since. The others are out somewhere today; he and I are the only people in the house. I’m going to make sure to stay away from him. His behavior shows me that he doesn’t want anything more to do with me. At least his fantasy-self is a lot more affectionate. In my dreams, I can picture him as the guy I would want him to be. My subconscious has created the perfect Alexis, but my heart doesn’t want to accept that it will never get to know that side of him. Whenever I see him, his indifference stings. He doesn’t even look at me when we’re both at the table, but he gives the other new background singer his full attention. Is he actively trying to make me jealous?
I shake my head to get rid of these questions, put my sheet music up on the holder, and rest my fingers on the keys. I took a pencil and wrote marked the notes down onto the keys. I wipe them off every time, but this way I can teach myself to play. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, and then I focus on the melody I want to play. I start, but hit the wrong key after only a few seconds. “Merda!” I swear, then gather myself and start over.
It isn’t as easy as I would like it to be, but I’m not going to quit. I continue to curse my clumsiness in Italian, but I keep trying. “Un cazzo, stupido stronzo!”
Someone chuckles behind me. “Even I understood that.”
I glance over my shoulder. “Good for you.”
Alexis sits down next to me. “Wanna do it together?”
“No, thanks.” I stare at my sheet music so I don’t have to look at him, so he won’t touch me.
“I get that you’re mad at me for avoiding you,” he begins.
“I’m not mad. I just don’t get it. I didn’t do anything to you. But you told me you were an asshole, and now I’ve got proof, so thank you for that.”
He snorts. “I only avoided you, because I didn’t want Joel to send you back to New York City.”
“Is that so?” I put my hands on the keys again. “If you would excuse me now; the piano and I are slowly getting closer.”
“Honor, let me help you.”
“I don’t want your help, Alexis. I thought we could finish the song together, but you chose to avoid me. You shot down each and every one of my attempts to ask you a simple question, either ignoring or scorching me with your looks … I can do this on my own,” I reply in a hoarse voice.
“You’re not crying now, are you?”
I close the lid and get up quickly, leave the living room in a hurry. I wanted to talk to him, but I’m simply too hurt by his five days of arrogant silence.
“Honor, wait!” he calls after me, but I’m already on the stairs.
“I don’t want to talk to you. Maybe later, when I’m not as upset.” I hasten to reach the upper floor.
“Okay … I’ll be here,” he says, sounding a little regretful.
I’ll be calmer in ten minutes; maybe then I’ll be ready to face him. Why do I overreact like this? I lie down on my bed and close my eyes. Unbidden, the scene of him and me on the piano starts playing in my head. He’s got a hold on me, but why? Yes, we had amazing sex, but that’s all it was. We shared nothing beyond that. All I know is that he thinks of himself as a fucked-up asshole, while I think of him as a great guy with a few flaws.
When I leave my room a few minutes later, he’s coming up the stairs. He stops when he sees me. “Do you want to go shopping?”
I cock my head to one side. I need to see an optometrist anyway, and I haven’t been in the town at all, since Ms. Cunnings said she could buy everything I need. I nod thoughtfully.
His lips curve into a smile. “I’ll grab my jacket really quick.” He looks me up and down. “Maybe you want to change, too? It’s rather hot outside.”
“Yeah, I’ll be back in five minutes.”
He nods. “Alright, let’s do it.” He disappears into his room, and I stare after him for a moment.
Then I turn around. I pull some clothes from the shelves in my closet. Denim shorts, an airy top and a knit cotton jacket. I’m going to wear sandals with that, no socks. I change and then comb my hair in front of the bathroom mirror, before putting all the necessities into my handbag and heading out. Alexis is waiting in the hallway. “Ready?”
I nod at him. “Yep.”
“Awesome.” He walks down the stairs and I follow. Outside by his Range Rover, I ask: “Does the cavalry know that you’re leaving the compound?”
“Why should they? I’m twenty-five years old and under no obligation to check out,” he answers with a grin as we get in.
“If you say so.” I buckle up, lean back and take a deep breath. “Could you stop at an optometrist’s?”
“Why?”
“Because I need to get something.”
“Do you need glasses?”
“I already have glasses,” I reply as we’re making a turn.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“And why do you need an optometrist?”
I roll my eyes. “I want to buy new daily contacts, because I’ve run out.”
“Why don’t you get custom-made ones? Aren’t they cheaper than dailies in the long run?”
“They are, but I switch back and forth between contacts and glasses. Right now, I prefer contacts, but that may change again any day,” I explain.
He nods, and I can see his gaze slip, roam over my legs. Alexis licks his lips, then shakes his head and focuses on the road ahead. “Okay, that makes sense. I guess I’d be the same.”
I make a noncommittal sound.
“I wanted to buy some new clothes, spend a little money to make me feel better.”
I look at him, surprised by his words. “You’re a man.”
“So? Am I not allowed to go shopping and blow money?”
I laugh. “I thought that was a woman’s prerogative. Spending money to counter frustration.”
“Bullshit. I like shopping, and I’m a man.”
“I like it, too.”
“Then we have our work cut out for us,” he smiles.
“We do.” I look out the window, but then I glance at the side mirror and notice a dark Mercedes behind us, ma
king a turn when we do. “We’re being followed.”
“I know. It’s just Colt and Reese.”
“Who are they?”
“Bodyguards. Unfortunately, we need them.”
“Oh, are you really that popular?”
“I’m Batman, remember?” He lets out a theatrical sigh. “Believe me, it feels much better to have them around. It’s cool to meet fans, but some of them are totally over the top, pushy and vicious.”
“They admire you guys.”
“Yeah, and sometimes this admiration leads to aggression. Like the girls who attacked Madeleine, and hit her so badly she needed stitches,” he tells me with a snort.
I jerk my head around and stare at him. “What?”
Alexis nods. “When Gavin and Madeleine had just gotten together, we all flew to Florida together. Homebound vacation. We went to this club, and Lane – that’s what we usually call her – left early. A little later, Thally and Jayden found her in an alley, beaten up by those girls.”
“Oh my god.”
“Yeah, it can get ugly at times, but that was the only really bad incident. The girls were sentenced to do community service, I think. That’s another reason I don’t want a girlfriend. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if the woman I loved got hurt because of my fame,” he confesses in a hoarse voice.
“I’m beginning to see the point of your attitude.”
“It’s a matter of weighing pros and cons, in the end.”
After that, silence settles over the car like a heavy weight. I have no idea what else to talk about. All I can think of is the song, but I don’t expect him to still be interested in working on it. Or maybe I’m wrong? “Would you help me finish my song?”
“Sure.” He smiles. “I’d be honored to do that. It’s a very emotional song, and it’s obvious you care a lot about it.”
“It’s only an attempt. My first attempt ever.”
He shakes his head at that. “You’re talented, Honor. And your emotions really speak in those lines.”
“Maybe I used to feel that way, but I don’t anymore.”
Alexis puts a hand on my thigh. “Don’t deny that the song is written from the heart.”
“Maybe it is, but all I want is to finish it and prove that I can do something like that. Maybe I can use it for a demo someday.”
“If you want to, we can record at in the in-house studio later.”
“Wow. I really appreciate the offer.” My mood lifts so quickly, it feels like inhaling helium. I’m about to sing in a real recording studio! What I have so far are simply the audio tracks from some video recordings, which I turned into MP3 files. I used a few filters to fade out white noise and the audience. But the result is a far cry from what I know is possible in a real studio.
“Have you been in a recording studio before?”
“Nope, never.”
“But then how did you record your demos?” he asks, looking puzzled.
“It’s a simple trick.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“Just a little fumbling with mixing software on my computer at home. I selected the audio tracks from various video recordings, and filtered my voice and the melody. Then turned that into MP3s,” I explain, feeling sheepish for my tinkering.
Alexis chuckles. “I’m in awe of your digital DIY skills, seriously.”
“Well, what are you going to do when you can’t afford a studio session?” I reply with a timid shrug.
His hand strokes my naked skin. “Now you can, and I can help you.” He pats my thigh reassuringly. “We’ll start once we get home. We’re going to fine-tune the lyrics and then record the song. Maybe we can also try to change the melody a little. Make it a demo version and a remix, so to speak.”
I can’t suppress the smile that is spreading across my face. I lean over and kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you, Alexis.”
“And then I can give the demo to Spencer and ask his unbiased opinion. He’s the manager of D.A.C.C.P., and he’s far more approachable than Joel.”
“Okay, I think that just made my heart stop for a second there,” I confess in a breathless voice, feeling a gigantic lump forming in my throat.
Alexis pulls over and studies me with a frown of concern. “I thought you’d get a kick out of it.”
“I do,” I blurt. I’m completely swamped by his suggestion. Maybe it’s nothing more than a gesture of sympathy to him, but to me, it means a lot more. It could be the foundation for a career of my own.
“Honor, hey!” he says loudly, grabbing my arm and shaking me softly.
I blink before looking at him again. “What?”
“You seemed kinda out of it for a second there. Almost as if you were in a trance. Are you okay?”
I gaze into his eyes. There’s no way to stop this; I can’t hold back. I take his face in my hands and kiss him with delicious abandon. Screw the lump in my throat, screw the fact that he should be taboo. I want to kiss him, so I go ahead and do it.
Alexis wraps one hand around my neck and puts the other on my back. He returns each of my kisses and pushes his tongue into my mouth. I moan when he pulls his hand away from my back and puts it on my breast instead. He kneads it gently, which contrasts with the intensity of our passionate kiss. But then it ends as abruptly as it began. Alexis pulls away and steers the car back into traffic, acting as if nothing had happened.
I feel my pulse beating in my lips. They are swollen from the kisses, and they echo the wild beating of my heart. I draw a fluttering breath, putting my hand over my mouth to hide it from him.
“Where do you want to go first?” I inquire when we leave the optometrist.
“No idea. I tend to play it by ear, but I know I want to check out the music store.”
“Okay.”
Alexis takes my hand as we stroll through the mall. “This still feels nice and casual, right?”
I look down at our hands. “But it gives people a false impression.”
“Oh yeah? What does it tell them?”
“They might think that we’re a couple,” I reply, even as my inner voice cheers and squeals that Alexis does have feelings for me. Jesus, why am I acting like a teenaged fan who fell in love with her idol, and who’s getting a taste of his attention at the meet-and-greet event? My reactions are not normal. But I can’t deny it: My heart skips a beat when he smiles down at me. “I’m sure that’s not what you would want.”
Alexis winks at me, but doesn’t give me an answer. Does he want to make me feel as if we’re together? Does he want to convey closeness, even though he told me he didn’t want to let anyone get too close to him? I don’t understand this man. But then I need to take into account that he’s fighting a war with himself, which is typical for a burnout patient, especially one who doesn’t like to acknowledge that he is actually not doing fine. I can’t hold his behavior against him, even if I wanted to.
“So you don’t care what people might think?”
He shrugs. “People talk about me anyway, and a lot of it is bullshit. Why would I be bothered by them thinking I’m in a relationship?” He stops. “Oh, I’d like to check out this place.”
I lift my gaze. “Wow, very classy, Forever 21,” I giggle.
“I’m no longer twenty-one, but I like to shop at the teen stores sometimes,” he offers up and laughs before pulling me into the store with him. “How old are you, Honor?”
“I’m twenty-three.”
“Older than I’d thought.”
“How old did you think I was?” I probe, grinning up at him.
“I’d have said twenty, or maybe twenty-one, but then I remembered you went to college for four years.” Alexis lets go of my hand and strolls over to the clothes racks.
“What are you looking for?”
“New shirts and stuff. I have too many plain ones, so I’m looking for some with a print or picture on the front.”
“Okay. You want me to look for something that might suit you?”
“Sure.”
“What size are you?”
“With my shoulders, I need extra-large.”
I look at him. “I’d have guessed medium or maybe large.”
“In most stores that’s true, but I’ve learned that I need at least one size bigger here than in other stores. I have no idea why that is.”
“Maybe because it’s really meant for kids,” I laugh.
“Maybe.”
We browse the racks, and from time to time I pick a shirt that I think might look good on him, but when I hold them up, he’s never enthusiastic. We split up and continue to look around, and then I find a t-shirt I really like. I walk over to the changing rooms, where he disappeared into one of the cubicles a minute ago. “What about this one?” I lift it up high, so he can see it above the door.
Alexis takes it. “Looks good.”
“And do the others fit?”
He opens the door and steps out with a smirk. “I think I look handsome, don’t you agree?”
I look at him and purse my lips.
“You’re not impressed.”
“I just don’t think that a red skull with horns suits you all that well,” I explain.
“Then what does suit me?”
I shrug my shoulders, and he pulls me into the cubicle with him.
Alexis closes the door behind me. “Tell me.” He puts his hands against the wall on both sides of me.
“Tell you what?”
“What would you recommend?” His voice is husky, sexy.
“Why don’t you try on the one I just brought you?”
“Okay.” He steps back and takes off the skull tee. I swallow when I see his naked torso.
I never noticed his second tattoo before, but now I study it with interest. On his upper arm, a clef and a bass clef are put together to form a heart, with a wreath of tiny roses surrounding them. “That’s a beautiful tattoo,” I comment appreciatively.
“Which one?”
“The one on your arm.”
“Oh. That.” He turns his back to me. “How do you like this one?”
Alexis: In love with a rockstar (The Hamptons Series Book 2) Page 13
