by Shandi Boyes
“Oh, the things I could teach that boy,” she murmurs under her breath, handing me one of the drumsticks I had thrown out earlier tonight. Now it finally dawns on me why she is at my table, while wishing she was at Marcus’s. I quickly scribble my name along the edge of the stick in a permanent black marker and hand it back to her.
“Thanks,” she replies kindly with a big beaming smile, before placing the stick into her oversized handbag. “My friend can add it to her collection of sticks she already has from you,” she adds excitedly.
“So your friend is a fan of vanilla?” I question cheekily.
“She is as vanilla as they come, and I mean that in more ways than one,” she replies, her voice sounding mortified. When I notice she has a camera phone in her hand, I stand from my seat and move around my table to take a quick selfie with her.
“How could she have given that up?” she questions, her hand getting a little friendly with my backside.
Once she has taken at least a dozen photos, she pulls the camera down and scrolls through them, explaining to me that she wants to ensure that she got at least one decent photo before she leaves my table. Just as I go to walk back to my seat, I catch one of her photos in the corner of my eye that instantly halts my hasty retreat. No way, that couldn’t have been her.
“Scroll back,” I request, moving back to stand next to her. My heart rate increases and my palms sweat.
“You look great, me on the other hand,” she says, rolling her eyes and slightly shaking her head.
Since she is taking too long to go back to the photo I saw, I lean over her shoulder and flick through her photos myself, causing her curious eyes to look up at me. Holy shit, it is her, Kylie. I haven’t seen her in years but there is no way I wouldn’t recognize that face. I memorised every tiny freckle that adorned her beautiful little nose.
When her friend notices my shocked expression, she giggles softly before stating, “I said you knew my friend.” I thought she meant a friend friend, like a groupie friend, a casual hook up. Not a girl I use to be in love with. Not a girl that stole my heart and never returned it.
“She actually caught your stick but asked me to get it signed for her,” the blonde informs, her bottom lip slightly dropping, her eyes staring into mine.
“She’s here?” I question unbelievably. Kylie lives over the other side of the country so I find it surprising that she is in Seattle.
“Yep,” Kylie’s friend informs, the p popping out of her mouth. “She is right there,” she continues, her perfectly manicured index finger pointing to the side of the room. My head flings in the direction she is pointing so fast I almost give myself whiplash.
There, standing right in front of me is Kylie. The one girl that truly broke my fucking heart.
Chapter 2
Kylie
When Slater first turns to face me, his eyes roam leisurely over my body, causing a tingling sensation to rapidly build between my legs. The sensation soon dies when his eyes narrow and his lips thin. His gaze then returns to my best friend Melanie, where he gives her a quick friendly hug before returning to the table he was originally sitting at. Melanie’s eyes flick up to mine, silently questioning if I am okay. I give her a quick nod of my head. I have been expecting this type of reaction from Slater. I have lived with the guilt of what I did to him for the past two years and I knew one day it would eventually catch up with me. That was the reason why I fought tooth and nail not to come to this concert tonight. I knew the instant I saw him all that guilt and remorse would resurface. Let alone all the old feelings I try to deny every day.
I make my way back into the corridor as a small gathering of tears form in the corner of my eyes. Just as I’m about to exit, I accidentally bump into someone entering the room.
“Sorry,” I apologize softly, walking around them, my gaze staying firmly planted on the ground to ensure no one sees my tears.
“Kylie?” questions a female voice that I don’t immediately recognize. When I lift my eyes from staring at the polished concrete floor, I instantly recognize the light blue eyes staring back at me.
“Hi Jenni,” I greet kindly, while trying to calm down the erratic beating of my heart. Her face morphs into excitement and she does a little squeal before she comes running over to engulf me within her tiny arms.
“I haven’t seen you since the day at the cabin,” she whispers into my ear. Once she pulls back from our embrace her eyes slowly roam over my face. When they zoom in on the small tears gathering in my mine, her smile slightly falters.
“Are you okay?” she enquiries delicately, gently pulling me into the corridor so we are no longer blocking the entrance way of the room.
“Oh yeah, I’m fine,” I reply confidently, trying to maintain her eye contact. “The smoke machines during the concert really makes my sinuses play up,” I continue, offering her my best fake smile. Her eyebrows slightly narrow down her face and her lips purse a little higher.
“The smoke can be a little overdone at times,” she eventually responds. I can tell she isn’t fully buying my explanation for the tears in my eyes, but I’m grateful that she isn’t going to push me any further.
Suddenly, a little blonde haired boy comes running towards us and wraps his arms around Jenni’s leg. Jenni smiles brightly before bending down to pick up the little boy. It is only when I run my eyes over his face does it dawn on me who his dad is. There is no way Nick could ever deny that this little boy is his. He is the spitting image of his father, bar his strawberry blonde hair. I have avoided all entertainment programs and gossip magazines for the past two years. Other than hearing the occasional ‘Rise Up’ song being played on the radio, I’m completely clueless about anything that has happened in the bands personal life.
“I’m sorry, you know what he is like when he wants his mom,” apologizes a gentleman standing to the right of us. I turn my vision and notice a gentleman that I would guess to be in his early forties. He has blonde hair that is clipped close at the sides and the top is a little longer and messy. He has striking blue eyes that feel like they can see straight through to my soul. Even though he is a little older, this guy would have no problem attracting woman, he is gorgeous.
“It’s fine Harrison, I was just about to come and grab him anyway,” Jenni responds kindly. Harrison smiles brightly and after tickling the little boys’ tummy, he walks back down the long black corridor.
“Jasper,” Jenni says, trying to pry the little boys’ attention away from blowing kisses at Harrison. Once Harrison walks into the room at the end of the corridor, Jasper’s eyes flick up to his mom.
“Jasper, can you say hello to Kylie?” Jenni questions lovingly. Jasper’s blue eyes turn to face me before he blows one of the biggest raspberries I’ve ever seen in my life, sending spit flying around the room and all over my face. Jenni and I both laugh loudly and now the tears filling my eyes are tears of happiness.
“Hi Jasper,” I greet, my eyes leisurely roaming over his adorable little face. When he holds out his arms for me, my heart melts. Then I melt into a puddle of water on the ground when he wraps his little arms around my neck and snuggles in close to my chest.
“He knows good people,” Jenni whispers softly, her smile practically beaming out of her.
It only takes a couple of swings of my hips and pats on his back for Jasper to fall asleep on my shoulder. I guess the rock star lifestyle is even tiring for a baby. Jenni motions for me to follow her and we walk down to the room Harrison entered not long ago. Upon entering, I notice they have a large white wooden crib set up in the corner of the room. Jenni gently pry’s Jasper’s little fingers from around my neck and places him inside the crib. Once she has him settled, we quietly tiptoe out of the room. On the way out, Harrison nods his head at Jenni, silently informing her that he will watch Jasper.
“He’s adorable,” I say the instant we walk out of the dressing room.
“Thanks, I think so too,” she replies, smiling softly. When we walk back down the
hallway, I spot Melanie standing in the middle of the corridor, her concerned and panicked eyes are flicking up and down. When she notices me walking down, she quickly closes the distance between us.
“Jesus, I thought I had lost you,” she informs mortified. “I would have hated if one of the roadies was having his way with you in the broom closet,” she continues, her stern voice altering to her normal playful banter. “Actually, I would have probably just watched,” she informs, waggling her eyebrows and biting down on her bottom lip. Knowing Melanie how I know Melanie, she would have just watched.
Jenni looks at Melanie curiously before she giggles softly. It is only once Melanie hears Jenni’s soft giggles does she realize we have company. This is nothing new for Melanie. You could be standing right in front of her and she wouldn’t be paying you any attention if there was a hot guy within a five-mile radius.
“Holy shit,” Melanie says quickly, grabbing my arm and squeezing it tightly. “You’re Nick Holt’s wife,” she continues, her excited eyes staring at Jenni with a look of shock on her face.
“Well, I’m really his fiancé,” Jenni responds.
“Same fucking thing,” Melanie interrupts rudely.
“Melanie, language,” I inform mortified, triggering her to look at me and roll her eyes like it is no big deal. Melanie has absolutely no filter. She likes to say I’m vanilla ice cream, because I’m boring and plain, where she is the equivalent of a rainbow, bubble gum, hot fudge, sprinkled sundae with a cherry on the top. She is as outlandish as I am reserved.
“Jenni, this is my potty mouthed friend Melanie, Melanie this is Jenni,” I introduce as Melanie’s eyes continue to bounce between Jenni and I.
“Hi,” Jenni greets kindly, her cheeks becoming a little flustered from Melanie’s intense gaze.
“Do you two know each other?” Melanie questions me curiously, completely ignoring Jenni’s greeting, her manicured index finger pointing between us.
I spend the next two minutes giving Melanie a small rundown on how I met Jenni at the cabin nearly two years ago when the band got together for one last time before their first album was released. The whole time her eyes continued to flick between Jenni and I and her mouth is left hanging wide open in shock.
“So let me get this right, for the whole two years I’ve known you, you failed to mention that you have met all the band members of ‘Rise Up’ before?” she questions sternly. When I nod my head, she continues, “All of them?” Her eyebrows lifting even higher into her hairline.
“I only met them once,” I recount, trying to get Melanie’s stern gaze to lessen. Melanie has a slight obsession with Marcus, the bassist of ‘Rise Up’. Actually it’s a full on, unhealthy obsession. She swears that he is her future baby’s daddy, just no one has informed Marcus of that yet.
“Excluding Slater.” Jenni informs casually, causing Melanie’s eyes to dart to her. My eyes also turn towards Jenni, silently begging for her to keep her mouth closed while Melanie is within our vicinity.
“You were his girlfriend for six months?” Jenni half questions, half informs, since she can’t quiet work out the look on my face. Melanie’s mouth pops open wide in shock and her eyeballs nearly bug out of her head.
“Oh my god, you lying little bitch,” she squeals loudly, her high pitch voice echoing down the hall. “You said it was a couple of dates,” she adds loudly, rapidly gaining the attention of the fans waiting in the hallway to enter the room where the meet and greet is being held. My eyes silently plead for Melanie to shut her loud mouth, causing her to roll her eyes and huff angrily.
The fans in the queue continue to stare at the three of us curiously, it only once Nick moves into the corridor does their attention become focused on him. He politely smiles and greets his screaming fans as he eagerly makes his way towards Jenni. Once he kisses her on the forehead, I introduce him to the nearly busting at the seams Melanie.
“I tried to line up in your queue but…..” Melanie informs, her gaze turning to look at the long queue of mostly girls that goes down the hall and around the corner.
“I like you and all, but that shit is crazy” she continues, pointing her thumb to the long line up, causing Nick to chuckle lightly.
Melanie was able to jump the queue since I had managed to catch Slater’s drumstick at the end of the concert. Well I didn’t really catch it, it kind of hit me in the head and landed in my lap. I still have a slight headache from where it struck me on my left temple. Anyone that catches Slater’s sticks or one of Nick or Marcus’s guitar straps gets to skip the queue for the fan meet and greet. I’m pretty sure if I turned up at Slater’s table requesting his signature he would have refused my request. I also didn’t want to see the hurt and disappointment in his eyes. I was hoping that Melanie would have agreed to go straight back to the hotel, but nope, she wanted to go backstage more than she wished she hadn’t given Devon Cooper her virginity.
“Everyone is getting ready to head to the after party. Dad and Hawke are going to take Jasper back to the hotel,” Nick informs Jenni quietly, ensuring that none of the fans will overhear their private conversation. Jenni nods her head at Nick, before her excited eyes turn to face me.
“You two should come,” she offers eagerly. The instant the words escapes her lips, Nick coughs sternly while Melanie screams a loud “yes,” at the top of her lungs.
“Thanks for the offer Jenni, but we better call it a night,” I reply, triggering Melanie to rapidly shake her head and stomp her feet like a five-year-old who is about to have a tantrum.
“You have to come. Emily will be there and she would love to see you again,” Jenni pleads, her light blue eyes staring deeply into mine.
“Please,” she begs. My eyes flick up to look at Nick standing next to her. He slightly shrugs his shoulders and gives me a small smirk while Melanie’s eyes burn a hole in the side of my head.
“Okay, but just for ten minutes,” I inform hesitantly. Melanie squeals that loud my ears are going to be ringing for a week.
What do you think the chances are that the drummer of the band will skip the after party?
Zero to none? Yeah, that’s what I thought too.
Chapter 3
Slater
“What’s taking them so fucking long?” I question annoyed to Marcus. We are both sitting in the stretch hummer limousine outside of the stadium waiting for the rest of our band members to show up so we can head to the after party.
Every concert series in each town kicks off the same way. We have an elaborate all expenses paid party at one of the hottest night clubs in town, VIP section, unlimited women and unlimited booze. Normally, I’m interested in the unlimited women, but tonight my main focus with be the booze. I need to get the images of her out of my fucking head. You would think after two years my brain would have realized that she is the enemy, but nope, just one look at her pretty little face and tight ass body and my dick starts overruling all rational thinking and don’t even get me started on my head.
“Do they know we are waiting for them?” I question. Marcus looks over at me and shrugs his shoulders slightly. “Fuck it, I’m going to get them” I advise, climbing out of the limousine. Just as I make it to side door, Jenni climbs inside.
“Sorry” she apologizes when she notices my stern and angry glare firmly planted on her. “We girls can’t just throw on some jeans and turn up, this takes time” she continues, running her hand down the length of her body.
My eyes roam over her and I still don’t understand why it took her nearly an hour to get ready. She is wearing a dress, simple, you throw it over the top of your head. A pair of shoes, what, two minutes to put on? Even her face isn’t heavily coated in make-up. It’s only when I notice the pink hue on her neck does it suddenly dawn on me why it has taken them so long to turn up. Once Nick enters the limo, I turn my angry glare to him. He doesn’t even seem phased by it, he just gives me a smirk and a wink, confirming what I had already suspected.
“Can you save your fuckin
g for when we aren’t waiting” I suggest firmly. Marcus chokes on his drink and starts coughing since his whiskey is now in his lungs instead of his stomach. Nick smiles a beaming smile, while Jenni’s cheeks turn the color of a beetroot.
Once Emily and Noah enter the limo, I signal to the driver that he can commence our short five-mile trip to the nightclub. It took the entire drive to the nightclub for Jenni’s cheeks to eventually return to their normal coloring. The instant we step out of the limo onto the footpath, we are blinded by the paparazzi lights. They are so bright I can’t see a fucking thing. Other than walking forward and hoping I’m heading in the right direction I’m pretty much walking blind. They always request for me to lower my arms so they can get a picture without my hands covering my face. But unless I don’t want to see anything for the next week, I have to shield my eyes.
