Crush (A Night Fire Novel Book 1)

by TM Watkins

  Now we had our ice creams and were walking along the path that circled the park. There was no returning to the precious car with filthy ice creams. Apparently that was a completely unrealistic thought.

  “So now would be the time where you lay everything out. Who you are, what your deal is and why you have invaded my life the way that you have.”

  His eyes grazed over me with a brooding maybe even a little doleful look. Curtis painfully sighed and looked at me.

  “Ok so have you heard of Night Fire?”

  “The band? Yeah, I've heard of them. Vegas boys.”

  As the words drifted out of my mouth I stared at him. I wasn't a fan but I knew of them because they were from this fair city, they lived here. I'd seen a few write ups about them, more notably when they did something that was true to the bad boy rocker lifestyle. Just like last night.

  They were Vegas' favorites sons, one of Americas greatest exports. Living gods, forgiven for their exploits and treasured for their talent. No wonder he expected to get out of jail so quickly, they probably had a team of lawyers waiting by the phone for their call.

  He nodded responding to my answer.

  “That's us. I'm the drummer. Was last night the first time that you had seen me?”

  I looked at him curiously, it was an odd question to ask.

  “I'm not really a fan of rock music or any music to be honest. I don't really have the time.”

  “No, I mean at the restaurant.”

  He looked vaguely familiar but so many faces pass through that place I would have a hard time remembering anyone unless they were an every night regular.

  “No sorry.” I shrugged.

  Curtis nodded looking a little forlorn. Wow, I guess rock stars can be human. Who would have thought?

  “I'm not a weirdo, okay. Just getting it in there before I start. I know how you like to prejudge me because of how I look.”

  “I did not! You lot were fine until you started throwing punches. In fact I thought that you and your friends were the best customers of the night.”

  “Really?”

  His eyes widened slightly as a soft grin crossed his face.

  “Well this best customer of yours has been your customer for a while now.”

  I stopped walking and stared at him.

  “How long?”

  “A month or so.” he shrugged noncommittally.

  How long was the or so? It looked like he wasn't prepared to answer it and I probably didn't want to know. Maybe it was one of those things that better left as it was.

  “So I might have been having dinner there on a regular basis, I might have been the one that was a little heavy handed with tipping.”

  “That was you?” I gasped.

  He nodded quietly. Yep, thanks for feeding me and paying the rent for the past month... shit, two months. How did I not notice him for two months?

  The biggest tips came in on a Friday night, did that mean that he only ever came to the restaurant then?

  Tipping was unpredictable. I couldn't pick who would be generous and who would give the standard. It was often surprising, many times I had got a decent tip from the grumpiest of customers who would complain and nit pick about everything. Then there was the customers who were so nice and pleasant, complimented every single thing and left a basic tip.

  Then there was people like Curtis who was a good customer and for the most part, well behaved. He tipped pretty damned well and if I didn't have to pool all the tips with the other wait staff then I would have been well funded.

  “Uh, well thanks.”

  “Anyway the guys wanted to go drinking last night and I said I was busy. They bitched at me that every Friday and Saturday nights I was busy and I was becoming a let down for them. What I didn't realize was when they shrugged me off they followed me. You understand what they're like, you've witnessed them first hand. Well that's nothing compared to what I got last night. They decided to join me for dinner to continue the questioning. When they saw you they started really hammering into me.”

  He cleared his throat and looked away.

  “I may have inadvertently said that you and I were, you know... something.”

  So that's why they kept calling me his girlfriend. They really did believe that we were together. I started to slowly walk again, Curtis followed and continued his mind blowing revelation. A rock star had crushed on me. A rock star had stalked me. Talk about weird.

  “I saw that bitch knock the glass over, she did it on purpose. I couldn't stand it, seeing you on your knees like that with her laughing at you. Sorry I got you fired but I'd do it again and again.” He shrugged. “That's it.”

  “Why didn't you say anything in the jail?”

  “The boys were listening, as it was they questioned what you said. I shrugged them off telling them it was just a fight. When I said breakfast this morning I didn't think I would walk into an almost empty apartment with my fake girlfriend about to skip town. And yes they did nit pick over that one. They said I was a total scab, not giving you any money. Then your landlord says that your rent is due and they're there watching me. I don't want you to think I'm trying to buy you or anything but I couldn't just pay a week or a month, they would really give me shit over that.”

  I stopped walking again.

  “How much did you pay?”

  “A year.”

  I felt sick in the stomach. Shit. A year of rent, completely paid. No wonder Mister Barton was in a good mood with me this morning.

  “I'll pay you back. Damn it Curtis. Could you have not said that I was planning on moving in with you or something and then fake a fight?”

  “Well obviously I was a little hung over, wasn't thinking straight and had four assholes watching me. I don't want your money Frankie, it's not as if I can't afford it. Consider it a sorry for getting you fired present. Now you can relax while you look for another job.”

  How benevolent.

  “And I don't want a fake fight. Okay so the moving in is a good idea, you can totally do that. There's a whole side of my bed that's free, you can take that.”

  I laughed a little. “Smooth move.”

  He grinned and I could feel my insides melt. His embarrassed smile was so sweet and perfect. A hint of picture perfect white teeth, soft kissable lips that curled up in the corner and a feint pink blush crossing his cheeks. I sighed, feeling a lot like those girls. No wonder they hated me when he said I was his girlfriend. Him being off the market was a crime.

  “I'm still paying you back.”

  “No you're not.”

  The smile dropped as he frowned slightly, casting his gaze out to the path ahead of us.

  “Yeah, I am. I'm not a charity case.”

  “Don't be crazy Frankie, just accept it.”

  He looked at me and it was like a wave of clarity came over him.

  “I'll do you a deal.”

  Oh here we go. This is where I prostitute myself for him as I pay back the money.

  “Be my girlfriend for a couple of weeks and then you can end it and the debt will be paid.”

  “You think you're worth that much?” I grinned hard.

  Curtis laughed a little, shrugging his shoulders. I think I might have even seen that blush cross his cheeks again.

  “Just long enough to keep the jerk-offs entertained and then... you know.”

  I nodded quietly, wondering if this was a good idea. I was right, he was dangerous for my health.

  He stopped and pulled out his phone, letting out one rather pained sigh.

  “Gimme a minute, okay?”

  The phone lit up brightly as it rang, a picture of a grumpy Evan flipping the bird.

  “Sure.”

  I sat on the garden bench and finished my ice cream as Curtis paced back and forth. There were a lot of expletives being hissed and snapped, whatever was being said wasn't pleasing to him. He ended the call and readied to throw his phone.

  “Hey.” I stood up, reaching for his hand. “Hey, co
me on. Don't be doing that.”

  Darkness shrouded his eyes as he stared at me, I eased the phone out of his tight grip.

  “What's going on?”

  “Paparazzi are hanging around your apartment. Those little skanks sold us out.”

  “Well I guess shit happens, right?”

  Curtis chuckled and wrapped his arms around me, lifting me up and swinging me around. I yelped and then laughed, smacking him.

  “Put me down you weirdo stalker.”

  “You think I'm a stalker?”

  He looked at me without letting me down. I was being crushed by one really strong man. He was a drummer for crying out loud, these things were like boulders.

  “Curtis, you've been coming to the restaurant for two months. Not a word said to me, just sitting back and watching me. Freakazoid.”

  “Yeah okay, guilty as charged. I guess I'm a sucker for a pretty smile.”

  I still hadn't been put onto the ground, his arms were wrapped around my waist but slowly creeping south.

  “You should maybe avoid your place for a couple of days. The guys have your bag, you can crash at my place.”

  “How convenient.” I grinned.

  Curtis smiled broadly.

  “And if you want to be going back to that apartment then be warned I don't sleep on the floor. You are going to get furniture.”

  “No Curtis, I can't let you pay for more things, that's just wrong.”

  “Sorry, what did you say?”

  “I said no.”

  “Still didn't hear you.”

  I almost dropped his phone when he put me over his shoulder. When I complained he smacked my backside and I had to say it felt pretty damned good. I wasn't into that heavy shit when it came to sex but a playful smack was exhilarating.

  “Oh for fucks sake.” he groaned and then set me to my feet.

  I looked at his car and there was someone snooping around.

  “Welcome to my world baby.”

  Curtis took my hand and took determined strides back to his car.

  “Dude back away from the beast.”

  “Hey Curtis.”

  A set of eyes peered around and I was faced with a middle aged man with a camera in his hands.

  “I've told you about my wheels before, you know the rules.”

  “Yep, just waiting for you to come back from your little walk with the missus.”

  “We aren't married George.” Curtis sighed.

  Click. Flash. Ow, my eyes.

  “Oh I totally knew that, but you know what the tabloids are like.”

  Click. Flash. I'm going to kill him.

  “Yeah, I do unfortunately.”

  Curtis pushed past the man, unlocking the car and opening the door for me. Such a gentleman.

  Click. Flash. I'm not going to kill him. I'm going to shove that camera so far up his ass that he will be able to take photos by opening his mouth. Curtis waited until I was in the car and shut the door. With effortless movements he grabbed the man by the arm and dragged him away from the car. Curtis was saying something to him, the vein was bulging again. The photographer shrugged at him, Curtis turned away and moved back to the car.

  “I am so sorry.” he sighed as he turned over the engine. “I know you didn't sign up for this or any of it really.”

  “It's okay you know.” I turned on the seat to face him better. “Not the paparazzi part but the rest of you part is cool. I'll do the girlfriend thing but it worries me that it's not going to be what either of us want and it's going to crash and burn. I don't want to walk away from something that I will be constantly reminded about when I turn on the television or the radio, you know?”

  He nodded, quietly watching the road. I didn't own a television or a radio but that wasn't the point. The point was that it was extremely likely that it would be me that would walk away from this being the one with a broken heart.

  “It's hard for you, I get that. In my mind I've been in this for a lot longer so it's kind of different for me.”

  I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, earning a cute grin. Dang, that's a panty shredder.

  My apartment building was the second from the intersection, as Curtis drove through it I looked at the nightmare that surrounded the entire front. Screaming girls were being held back by police barricades, half the road had been sectioned off. Mister Barton will not be happy. Ten minutes later we were pulling into a more posh estate, a few more turns and we were faced with pandemonium. It was far worse than what was outside my apartment building.

  “Oh my god.” I whispered.

  “Sorry.”

  He slowed the car down, trying to avoid the surge of crying females. I don't think I was popular. In fact, I think I was enemy number one. Cameras soon replaced the crying fan girls, flashing at us madly.

  “Sorry.” Curtis muttered again.

  I think it was his new catch phrase. The crowd parted as the gates swung open, security personnel moved people out of the way and kept them restrained from making a dash into the yard. A woman yelled at me through the glass, calling me a bitch.

  “Sorry.” he muttered again.

  The frown was deepening. His, not mine. I was too shocked. Curtis drove along a sweeping driveway, sitting at the steps of one rather grand house was another car. Curtis sighed.

  “Sorry.”

  I giggled. “For what?”

  “You'll see soon enough.”

  Chapter Four

  Curtis moved the car past the oversized mansion. It was two square buildings that were joined by another building that was sunk in between them, almost like a shallow u shape. Large long stairs led to the main doors which sat at the center of the inner building. Ahead of us was another building, a long row of garage doors faced us. One went up and the car quietly glided into the darkness. As I opened the door I could hear the thunder of the crowd, bedlam was just a short walk away. The garage door started to slide down, Curtis grabbed my hand and quickly pulled me through. More obscenities were hurled at me.

  “Sorry.” he sighed.

  “You keep saying that.”

  “I know. Sorry.”

  I laughed and shook my head, letting him lead me into the far too large for one man house. Because no one else lived here.

  The building was a soft brown stone, decorative stone intersected the facade in several places. Windows spanned for two levels, curtains drawn over the majority of them.

  “Why do you need such a large house?”

  Curtis shrugged. “Gotta spend my money on something, don't I? Why not a fancy house?”

  “S'pose.” I said quietly.

  “Don't over think it Frankie.” he stopped and the crowd roared with delight.

  I could hear them begging him to dump me in favor of them. More obscenities. More flash, flash, flash. I hate the paparazzi already. Curtis looked at me in a way that made my insides quiver, begging me to let him do whatever manner of dirty things to me.

  “We good Frankie?”

  God I loved it when he said my name.

  “Yeah, we're good.”

  Then he set about ensuring that my name was mud to the sisterhood. One deep and hard kiss, his arms wrapped around me and girls clinging to his fence crying.

  “Hey love birds.”

  My body tightened to the familiar sound, I broke from the kiss to see Jaxon standing at the door.

  “You guys have made the news, ain't it grand?” he chuckled. “Hey princess, your mom called. Not sure on how she got the number but she said you need to keep your legs shut, your lord expects it of you.”

  “Fuck.” I hissed.

  It was typical of my pious mother to start that crap at the worst possible time.

  “No princess, your mom said no fucking. Well not with such a naughty word mind you but we can get her point, right?”

  Jaxon turned into the house with a devilish grin, Curtis took my hand and we followed after Jaxon.

  “Does your mom really expect you to not have sex befo
re marriage?”

  “Yes.” I groaned.

  “Oh. So does that mean that, uh you know?”

  “I do know and sorry that's long gone.”

  He pushed through the door and let out a pained laugh.

  “As much as I'd like to be the one that gives you your first time at unbridled pleasure, I can honestly say I'm glad it's not me. Listening to my sisters bitch about it was bad enough.”

  “How many do you have?”

  “Two sisters, one older, one younger and an older brother. What about you?”

  “Older brother.”

  The sound of the crowd was drowned out when he shut the doors, pressing me against it. His eyes were wild with anticipation as the skin of his lips traced over mine.

  “Curtis!” A feminine voice shrilled. “Where you been baby?”

  His eyes flinched and I looked over his shoulder to the woman who was standing at the end of the entry. She was in the tiniest of dresses that left nothing to the imagination.

  “Sister of yours perchance?”

  He faltered.

  “Get off me.” I said quietly.

  “Frankie.” he sighed.

  “Why do you need me? Clearly you've got plenty of girlfriends to pick from.”

  His eyes narrowed when I air quoted girlfriends.

  “You effectively trashed my life and there are still groupies hanging around your home. Nice work, I'm leaving.”

  I pushed him off me and turned to the door, his hand flattened against the wood grain.

  “They aren't mine Frankie, I have two sisters for fucks sake. Do you really think I would objectify women like that?”

  “Yeah, I do. You are a rock star, don't they all do it?”

  “See, I was right. You have prejudged me.”

  “Did not.”

  He laughed and leaned his heavy body against the door. No escape for me then.