“Have you seen Nic?” I ask trying to keep my eyes on his face.
Leo shakes his head. “He wasn’t with us last night.”
Raven comes to the door wearing a bed sheet wrapped around her and I assume nothing else underneath. “Nic’s not here.”
Xander peaks his head out from behind Raven. His hair is messy from sleep. “If you find him, tell him we’re going to get chicken and waffles. He loves chicken and waffles.”
Raven glares at him. “We are?”
“Hell, yes, we are,” Xander repeats. “I’m starving. You worked me hard last night, Babe.”
Leo shakes his head. “The girl is insatiable. Two dicks aren’t even enough for her.”
“Okay,” I say quickly. I’ve definitely heard enough. “I’ll see if Brad knows where Nic is.”
As I turn to leave I hear Leo say, “You know if you ever want to join us, you’re more than welcome.”
I pretend I didn’t hear him and hurry down the hallway as fast as my legs will take me.
I knock on Brad’s door. When he answers, I can see I’ve woken him up too. His hair is strewn everywhere and his normally neat clothing is in disarray.
“I’m sorry. Were you sleeping?”
He gives me a shit-eating grin. “You could say that.”
Then it occurs to me that maybe he had someone in the room with him. “I’m looking for Nic. He’s not in his room.”
Brad raises an eyebrow. “Did you check Leo and Xander’s room?”
“They’re with Raven. Just the three of them.” I still can’t get used to the way that sounds.
“Then he probably went for a drive. He loves to drive. He says it helps him think.”
“Where would he get a car?”
Brad laughs but I’m not sure why. We’ve been flying everywhere.
“He lives here.”
“In Phoenix?”
Brad nods.
“Seriously?”
“He grew up here. They all did. Him, Leo, Xander and Raven. He has a love/hate relationship with the place.”
“What kind of car is it?”
“A 1969 Mustang Boss 429.”
I can feel my jaw drop. It’s the car my dad always wanted. It’s his dream car. It’s also worth several hundred thousand dollars.
“I’m sure he didn’t get very far with…” Brad checks his notebook. “Crystal Collins.”
“You write down all the women he’s with?”
“I don’t just write them down. We’ve got contracts. They sign non-disclosure agreements. You name it; I’ve got it on file.”
“Wow.” It makes me wonder what kind of file they’re keeping on me. But then again Nic and I aren’t exchanging bodily fluid.
Yet.
Will we? The way Raven talked she made it seem inevitable. Nic always gets what he wants and apparently he wants me.
“Check the parking garage,” Brad suggests. “I doubt they got very far.”
The parking garage is dark and quiet. It’s early afternoon so it’s fairly empty. All the early morning guests have already checked out and the new arrivals won’t be here until closer to check-in time this afternoon.
It’s not easy to miss the perfectly restored Candy Apple Red Mustang. It’s almost shining like a beacon in the dimly lit garage. I march over to the car and try to peek inside. The windows are tinted so I can’t see much so I pound on the side window of the car.
I can hear laughter coming from the backseat. A woman’s voice. Nic is definitely not alone.
A few seconds later the passenger window goes down and I peek my head into the car. Nic is in the backseat with a girl who looks barely old enough to be legal. I can feel my stomach churn at the thought of what the two of them were doing back there. Although it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out. Nic is zipping his fly and the girl is wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
Does Nic think he’s in high school; getting a blowjob in the backseat of his car? It makes me sick to think about it. But I’m not sure why I even care.
“Thanks, Crystal,” Nic says. The girl looks up at me with wide eyes like she’s trying to figure out what I’m doing standing there.
“I need to talk to Nic. It’s business.”
The girl nods but she still looks stunned. I’m not sure what she expected. It’s not like he’s going to take her out to dinner and a movie.
She hops out of the backseat and straightens what little clothes she’s wearing. She’s definitely not leaving a lot to the imagination in that outfit. She’s a pretty girl, long blonde hair and lovely blue eyes. Makes me wonder what she was thinking getting into the backseat with Nic. Does someone just wake up in the morning and decide they’re going to give Nic Rayne a hummer in the backseat of his car?
Nic hops out of the car. “Don’t forget to talk to Brad about tickets to the show. Front row. You can bring whoever you want.”
The girl smiles and heads back into the hotel.
When Nic looks over at me his expression is neutral. I wish I knew what he was thinking but he rarely wears his feelings on his face. Not like me who seems to show every emotion I’m feeling.
“We need to talk about the story. That’s what I’m here for, isn’t it?” I know I sound a little nasty but I don’t care. I know he’s a single guy and he obviously has an enormous sexual appetite, but I guess I’m still a little disappointed in his behavior. And maybe just a little jealous, although I hate myself for that.
Nic just stares at me.
I continue. “My boss needs an outline of the story for the investors. We haven’t really had a chance to talk about it at all. Do you have time now?”
“Get in the car,” he says. It’s not a request.
I glance in the window at the passenger seat. Who knows what kinds of bodily fluids may still be lurking on that seat?
As if he can read my mind, he states, “I always take girls into the back seat, but in your case, we’ll stick to the front. Get in.”
I heave a sigh but get into the car.
“What’s up?” Nic’s biting his bottom lip like he’s a little nervous or upset. That’s a first. “You sound pissed and I don’t think it’s just about the story.”
“Is that normal? The girl. In the backseat.”
He lets out a single cold laugh. “Of course it’s not normal but it’s what happens when you’re a star.”
“And you just use women like that? Get what you want and send them away with concert tickets. As if that makes everything okay.”
He glares at me. “No one forces them to get into the car with me, Shakes. They know exactly what they’re here for. Hell, Brad even makes them sign a fucking contract. They do it so they have a story to tell. They were with Nic Rayne. It’s like their own little piece of stardom. They get exactly what they want and I get what I want. It’s a symbiotic exchange.”
“And that’s really what you want? A cheap blowjob in the backseat of your car? Don’t you ever want anything more?”
He grabs his steering wheel so tight I think he might break it. When he looks at me, his eyes are filled with so much torment it shakes me to my core.
“Of course I want more. That’s why you’re here.”
“What?” I want him to tell me exactly what he means. I want him to confirm everything Raven said to me.
But he shakes his head and completely shuts down. “Nothing.”
“Fine. Then I’m leaving.”
He grabs my arm. “Don’t go.”
“I don’t belong here. This…” I wave to the backseat of his car. “All of this. It’s just not me. I don’t understand it. And I’m not sure I want any part of it.”
“I know,” he says softly.
I can feel tears starting to stream down my face. I’d pack my stuff and get on the first plane back to San Diego if it didn’t mean I’d lose my job. And my big raise. And I need my income.
When Nic looks back over at me his features soften. “What’s wrong?”
/>
“Thanks to you, I’m kind of stuck here.”
He furrows his brow. “Why?”
I wipe the tears from my cheeks. “My boss threatened to fire me if I didn’t take this job. He’s already got advertisers lined up for the big story. I can’t afford to lose my job. And he promised me a big raise once the story is completed. It’s enough to cover my student loan payments which come due in another month.”
“I didn’t know your boss would do that. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well. Sorry doesn’t really help.”
“How much are your student loans?”
“An extra five hundred dollars a month. Without that raise, I’d have to get a second part-time job to cover the payment.”
“How much do you owe?”
I hesitate. I’m not one to talk about my finances with other people.
“Tell me how much you owe.”
“Why do you care?”
“Maybe I can help.”
I take in a deep breath. “Eighty-five thousand dollars.” The amount is overwhelming every time I say it out loud. But it’s not unusual for young college graduates in the 21st century to graduate with crushing student loan debt. Especially those of us with parents who struggle to remain in the middle class.
“I’ll give you a hundred thousand dollars if you stay until the end of the tour.”
I choke. Then I wonder if I heard him correctly or if it was just my imagination. “I’m sorry but did you just say you’d pay me one hundred thousand dollars to stay with the tour?”
“That’s what I said.”
“A one with five zeros.”
“A hundred thousand. Enough to pay off your student loans and a little extra. Maybe you can buy some new clothes.”
“You can’t pay me a hundred thousand dollars.”
He looks at me like I’m nuts. “Of course I can. I make ten million dollars a picture. That’s like a day’s salary for me.”
“Well, it’s a few years’ salary for me.”
“So you’ll take the deal?”
“I didn’t say that.”
He actually looks disappointed. “I could sweeten the pot. Make it one fifty.”
I try to swallow but my throat is almost completely closed. It’s money beyond my wildest dreams. The very idea of being free of student loan debt is almost too much for me to imagine.
“Are you being serious?”
“Of course. I never say anything I don’t mean.”
Can I survive with the band for the next week if it means one hundred and fifty thousand dollars? I don’t see how I can’t take the offer.
“There’s just one catch.”
I completely deflate. I knew it was too good to be true.
“You’ve got to sleep in my bed with me every night.”
I can feel my head shaking even though my brain is still thinking about my student loan being paid off. “I’m not a whore. I’m not going to sleep with you. Not even for a million dollars.”
He laughs. And not even a little one. A big hearty laugh. “That’s a first.”
“I’m sorry if I’m not the typical girl who’ll jump in the backseat of your car for concert tickets. I would never sleep with someone for money. It’s too disgusting to even consider.”
When our eyes meet, I can see he’s back to being Mr. Serious. All the humor has drained from his face.
“I never said I wanted you to fuck me. I know you’re not like that. Not even for a million dollars.” He gives me that smug little smile of his. “I just want us to share the same bedroom. The same bed. To actually sleep. Nothing else. I won’t even touch you…unless you ask.”
Am I willing to share Nic’s bed? To actually get that up close and personal? I never considered being embedded with the band might include actually being in bed with Nic.
I think about having my student loans paid off and having money left over to buy a new car and have a little nest egg on top of that.
When I look up at Nic he’s staring at me. Obviously waiting for my reply. “You’re not going to—um—bring other girls into the room with me there?”
He actually looks hurt. I immediately regret asking but in my defense, and considering his history, I think it’s a valid question.
“This isn’t about sex.”
“Then what is it about?”
His eyes turn so dark and scorching I think they could burn a hole right into me. “You’re a very smart girl. You’re actually the smartest person I’ve ever met. I think you can figure it out.”
Nic has a way of turning things around and never really answering my questions.
“So, Shakes? Do you want the deal or not?”
It’s so much money how could I not say yes? I have to stay on tour anyway or I’ll get fired. It would just mean sleeping in his bed. It won’t be that bad, will it?
“As long as we’ll just be sleeping. No other expectations.”
“You have my word.”
“Okay,” I blurt before I have a chance to stop myself.
He gives me his genuine smile that I’m growing to like a lot more than I should. It makes him seem so much more approachable and human. Not cocky Nic Rayne the superstar. Just Nic.
“Let’s shake on it.” He extends a hand.
I’m not sure why I’m so reluctant to touch him. But he doesn’t hesitate to touch me. He’s not shaking my hand though. He’s actually holding it.
And as much as I don’t want to admit it I actually like it. When he lightly caresses my knuckles with his thumb a wave of shivers runs through me.
“We’re not actually shaking hands,” I manage to squeak out.
“I know,” he says as he continues to gently stroke my hand. “I promise I won’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable or that you don’t want me to do.”
“Okay,” I reply but my voice sounds so weak. It’s because he’s touching me and all kinds of strange things are going on inside me. Things I’ve never felt before.
When I pull my hand away from his that disappointed, hurt look that I’m starting to see more frequently crosses his features.
“Do you want to go for a ride?”
I’m a little surprised he’s asking. He usually just tells people what to do.
“Where?”
“My house.”
“Your what?” I can’t help the shock on my face.
He smiles. “I grew up in Mesa. It’s right outside of Phoenix. I have a house here. In Scottsdale. It’s where I stay when I’m not in LA.”
“I guess so.” I’m still trying to process what he’s saying. I’m not sure why I’m so taken aback that he has a house here. Why wouldn’t he? After all, Raven said they all grew up here. I guess when I think about superstars I don’t actually think about them having normal lives like everyone else.
“Buckle up.”
I do as I’m told. “This is a great car. My dad always wanted one. It’s his dream car.”
“Your dad has good taste.”
I laugh. “Champaign taste on a beer budget as they say.”
“And who is they?”
“I’ve never figured that out.”
As we drive out of downtown and towards the suburbs, Nic asks, “So what do your parents do?”
“My dad is an inventor. He has close to a thousand patents on everything from mint-flavored self-brushing toothbrushes to confetti-throwing wedding announcements. Unfortunately he has yet to invent something that people actually want to buy in large quantities. He was even on that reality show Big Fish Small Pond. The one where inventors compete for a big contract from an investment company. He got thrown back into the small pond on the second show. He’s never gotten that really big break. My mom is a writer. I know. Big surprise there.”
I can see Nic is thinking because he’s biting his bottom lip. It’s subtle but it’s definitely his habit.
“Sandra Leigh.”
“How do you know my mom’s name?”
“Because I’ve read
her books. Falling Angels and Forgotten Angels.”
“Then you’re one of the few. Unfortunately critical acclaim doesn’t always translate into sales.”
“But she did get Falling Angels optioned by Katie Lawrence. I heard it’s been lost in development hell for a while.”
“My mom’s okay with that. She keeps getting the options renewed so they have income coming in. My parents have always struggled financially to be able to do what they love. And that’s also why I have so much student loan debt. There’s no way they could afford to pay for college.”
“Now you’ve got a chance to pay off your student loans. You’ve just got to put up with me for the rest of the tour.”
And sleep in your bed. I’m already wondering how that’s going to play out.
Seven
Nic’s house is not what I expect. It’s not one of those flashy McMansions that the newly rich seem to always end up building. His home is a lovely old Spanish Hacienda style home that’s been beautifully restored.
He parks his car right outside the front door. “What do you think?”
“The exterior is beautiful. I really like the courtyard entrance and the tile work.”
“Let’s go inside.”
We both hop out of the car and I follow Nic inside. The house is like a dream. The rustic Mexican décor and artwork is complimented with a wide assortment of greenery and breathtaking mountain views out of nearly every room.
“Nic, this is fantastic.” There’s so much to look at I’m not even sure where to begin.
He frowns. “Why do you insist on calling me Nic?”
“Because it’s your name.”
“Everyone calls me Rayne. Always Rayne.”
“Well I’m not like everyone else.”
He laughs. “There’s actually no way in which you’re like anyone I know.”
I’m not sure if that was a compliment or a dig. It could have been both at the same time. It’s hard to tell with Nic.
“Come on.” He grabs my hand. “I want to show you my favorite room.”
I follow him down a small hallway into the most massive library I’ve ever seen. There are books from floor to ceiling. It’s even got one of those sliding staircases so you can reach the books on the top shelves.
I can’t help but touch the spines of some of the titles. Despite being older editions they’re not dusty at all. Makes me wonder who keeps them clean. I gasp when I see a copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray. And right next to it The Plays of Oscar Wilde.
Always Rayne (The ALWAYS SOMETIMES NEVER Rock Star Romance Series) Page 7
