Bad For Me (My Forbidden Rockstar)

by Bowman, Dara

  I don’t bother looking for him after Sunday’s show. We have to be on the buses at noon the next day, and I still have piles of laundry to do.

  I spend Sunday morning packing the last of my things and moping around the apartment. Ever perceptive, Elle, notices but has the decency not to ask me about it. My old car has been sent to the junk yard, and my dad kindly sends a car to take me back to the Honda Center to get on the tour bus. Once I see the town car arrive, I give Elle a long hug. I suddenly feel incredibly sad.

  “I’ll miss you,” I tell her.

  “Don’t do anything stupid,” she warns me, fixing me with her gaze.

  “Too late,” I whisper.

  She sighs, and smiles at me. I smile back and give her a small wave as I leave the apartment. It’s hard to imagine that I won’t be back for three months.

  I’m grateful my dad has actually sent a car and not a limo. The last thing I want is to show up to the buses in a limo.

  The parking lot is busy, and I know that the stage crew packed up most of the stage overnight and was probably already in Vegas setting up for tonight’s show. I see the band’s bus nearby; it’s the most extravagant bus on the lot and can’t be missed. Mel, Liz and I share a much more modest bus, but that doesn’t bother me, I'm relieved that we aren't sharing a bus with the boys.

  Dragging my suitcases behind me, I climb the steps to the bus and I can’t help but feel excited, regardless of the current weirdness between Dom and I. Liz and Mel are already on the bus, and I can hear them talking as I step into the small but comfortable space. The bus might be tiny and cramped, but it’s my first tour bus and I can’t help but feel thrilled as I look around.

  The length of the bus is lined with two black couches and a small black granite-tiled kitchen. There’s a modest TV mounted on one of the walls, and there’s a glossy kitchen table built into the side of the bus. Mel and Liz are standing in a small room in the back of the bus and I make my way back towards them.

  I walk into what must be the bedroom at the rear of the bus. The room is tight, and there are two bunks built into each side of the room. There are drawers and cabinets built into the walls, and I see a tiny door ajar to what must be the bathroom.

  “Hi!” Liz chirps energetically.

  Mel turns her back to me.

  Whatever.

  I can see that Liz and Mel have claimed their bunks, so I go ahead and take the top bunk above Liz. Mel can have the two bunks to herself. The three of us get to unpacking, and after about ten minutes, a tall older man with a worn LA Dodgers hat climbs on the bus. He gives us a friendly smile.

  “Hi ladies! I’m Mickey, you’re driver.”

  “Hi!” Liz speaks up, exiting the bedroom as Mel and I follow. “I’m Liz. This is Mel, and this is Annie.”

  Mickey smiles at each of us, repeating our names to himself.

  “I see you ladies are getting settled. We are going to pull out of here in about ten minutes. Later on today, you’ll meet Andrew one of the other drivers who will be trading off with me sometimes, especially if it’s a night where we need to drive straight through to the next stop.”

  We bob our heads in acknowledgement.

  Mel curls up on one of the couches, and Liz and I drift back to the bedroom to finish putting our stuff away. I’m glad I packed light because there isn’t much room at all. We pull out of the parking lot to make our way to Vegas, and I press my nose to the glass as I watch Dom’s bus pull out too. I imagine Dom on his bus, and I can’t help but wonder what he’s doing.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Dom

  I stretch out on the bed as the bus pulls out on the road. I’m exhausted and all I want to do is sleep. It’s been a whirlwind of activity the past few days, and I’m tired as hell. Avery already laid down in his bunk, and Jenner and Johnny are sitting on the couches, playing with their laptops.

  I close the blinds, and lay back down on the bed.

  Of course I see Annie’s face and I try to think of something else, anything else.

  I know I’ve been a real shit since the day we hooked up. On opening night, I kissed her onstage because I felt this surge of feelings for her. But then I went out onstage and fucking rocked it, and I wondered what the hell I was doing getting myself tangled up with a woman just as the band was going on tour.

  Going on tour is the Mecca of free sex. I can get as much as I want, whenever I want, however I want, and with no strings attached. It's as easy as getting candy on Halloween. All I have to do is look at some knock out, and she will come to me like a moth to a fucking flame.

  I know I'm being a dickhead, and part of me doesn’t even want to sleep around knowing I have someone as hot as Annie waiting for me, but I can’t deny who I am. Because that is what I am, right?

  I grumble to myself, punch a pillow and roll over.

  Fuck! Why does Annie make me feel like this? It’s like I’m twenty-two all over again, the way I felt when I fell for Emily.

  Emily was my fucking world, my fucking everything. I loved that girl with every fiber of my being. I would have bought a ring for her, waited for her to walk down an aisle in a white dress, and then helped make loads of babies with her.

  That’s how amazing Emily was.

  Until she fucking ripped out my heart and stomped on it.

  She met someone while she was living abroad for the summer, and everything we had shared seemed to slip through our hands like a fistful of sand. She came home and confessed that she was in love with some Italian dude, picked up her life and moved to Florence. The last I heard she was happily married, living in Tuscany, and the mama of two little girls.

  Whenever I make the mistake of thinking about her, I can still feel the hole she left in my heart. I swore I would never let a girl get under my skin again, would never let myself feel something like that for the opposite sex.

  That’s what frightened me about Annie. Because I can see myself falling down the rabbit hole with her all over again. I can see myself turning into some sappy prick, writing love songs and sending her flowers while I picture her becoming Mrs. Dresden.

  I can’t let that happen.

  I know I promised her that I wasn’t going to fuck her and ditch her, and technically I didn’t fuck her. And I’m not gonna lie, I still dream about fucking her, with that killer body, especially now that I’ve had a taste of her.

  But I’m just going to have to get by with second-rate pussy that comes my way, because giving into Annie is an emotional step that I don’t want to take. It’s better that she dislikes me now, better that she remembers all the reasons she disliked me before.

  I try not to think about the stories she told me about her family, the way she opened up to me. And Christ, I try not to think about how silky smooth the skin was on her inner thighs, or how pink her sex was, and the way she tasted on my lips. I hum to myself trying to forget her cries of pleasures, the way she moaned my name, and the way she looked at me when she came, her crystal blue eyes wide and locked on mine as she unraveled before me.

  I jump off the bed and splash cold water on my face at the sink. Sleep is obviously not an option. Of course, my fucking dick is hard after remembering my moments with Annie but I ignore it, taking the uncomfortable pain as my sentence for replaying those memories.

  I grab my iPod and jam the earplugs in my ears. I put on Queen’s Greatest Hits, and rock out to Freddie Mercury. I focus hard on the lyrics so my brain can’t think of anything else.

  * * *

  Not surprisingly, we kick ass in Las Vegas and then go on to do a badass concert in Phoenix. Annie tried to talk to me once in Vegas, but after I ignored her she stalked off and hasn't bothered me since. She looked hurt but oh well.

  We're on a tight schedule so I haven’t been able to bring any girls on the bus to help get my mind off Annie. We were in and out of Vegas and Phoenix, and then we started our three-day trip across the country to New York. We even have drivers taking shifts because we're only stopping for food br
eaks and gas.

  I remember Annie saying that her mom lived in New York and she was anxious to see her. Originally I told Annie that I would love to come meet her mother, but that sure as hell wasn’t happening now.

  The second day into our road trip has me in a pissy mood. I thought I would be feeling better now about cutting Annie loose, but I'm only feeling shittier with each passing day.

  My mood is fucking dark by the time we stop in Nashville for lunch. Nashville is an unbelievable town, and I am doubly pissed that I am wasting away the few hours I have to spend in one of my favorite cities.

  The guys and I decide to go to one of our favorite restaurants in the heart of downtown, Jack’s Bar-B-Que. We walk in and are whisked away to a quiet table, but not before I catch sight of Annie sitting halfway across the restaurant.

  You have got to be fucking kidding me. There must be hundreds of restaurants in town and she happened to choose this one?

  I drink in her appearance, she has her long brown hair in a ponytail, and her fantastic tits are busting out of her tight t-shirt. She’s wearing faded jeans and boots, and she fits effortlessly into the Nashville scene. Mel is fiddling with her phone, and Liz and Annie seem to be deep in conversation about something. As if she can feel my eyes on her, Annie looks up quickly and our eyes lock for a moment.

  Shit.

  I quickly look down at my menu.

  “Hey, isn’t that Annie?” Jenner asks.

  “Shut up,” I growl.

  I look up to see Liz glaring at me, and Annie is already making her way towards me. I don't have time to hide and before I know it, she’s beside the table. Her body looks even more banging than I remembered it.

  “Can I talk to you?” she asks in a tight voice.

  “What about?” I say coolly.

  “About the weather,” she says sarcastically, “What the hell do you think, Dom?”

  Oh yeah, she’s pissed.

  “Oohhh,” Johnny sings, like I’m a little kid about to get in trouble.

  “Fuck off,” I direct at Johnny. “Fine, let’s talk,” I say, not moving.

  “Here?” she asks incredulously. Good. Hopefully she won’t make a scene in front of the guys. I just shrug as if to show her I don’t care.

  “Fine,” she spits.

  I quickly realize the huge mistake I've made, because she unleashes the fury of Hell on me.

  “I’d ask you why you’re being a colossal prick after what went down between us, but I think I already know the answer. You’re being a complete douche bag because you are a complete douche bag! And I was a total fool to trust you! To think that you meant every apology you gave me, every bullshit response, every line about wanting to get to know me better!”

  I wince internally because she’s right and because the guys are hearing all of this. The guys’ jaws are on the table as Annie continues to lay into me and give me a piece of her mind.

  “I should have known you were no good when you tried to kiss me TWICE when I didn’t want you to! TWICE! And then finding that tramp’s thong in your car should have been the clearest signal ever! But no! I gave you another fucking chance, only for you to hook up with me and then drop me like one of your ho bag groupies!”

  “Annie,” I say quietly. She’s shouting now and the whole restaurant is looking. And not only that but people have their phones out and are taking pictures, or worse, recording, because it seems that I’ve been recognized as someone in a famous band.

  “I’m not finished!” she yells. “You might think you can get away with treating women like shit because you’re Dom Dresden, but I’m not impressed! You’re nothing but a sleazy, arrogant womanizer! And shame on me for trusting you and trying to see the good in you!”

  She turns on her heel to leave, but then wheels back around.

  “And I hope you fucking enjoyed, getting to “know” me better!” she says using her fingers for quotation marks.

  Christ.

  She makes it seem like we slept together. We didn't, technically.

  She storms back to Liz and Mel, who are looking at us with open mouths.

  “Party’s over,” I grumble to the people around us.

  Annie’s boots click on the floor as she walks away from the other girls and out the door.

  Liz looks right at me and mouths “asshole” before she jumps up to follow Annie.

  I take a deep breath and turn back to the guys.

  “What the fuck did you do?” Avery asks.

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Dude, you fucked up,” Johnny adds.

  Jenner at least has the sense to stay quiet, but I can feel the disdain rolling off him too.

  I’m not hungry anymore, but I’m determined to sit and eat my meal like I intended. We give our order to a smirking waitress, and I push my ribs around while the guys talk quietly about their plans in New York.

  Annie and Liz don’t come back in to the restaurant, and Mel seems nonplussed as she waits for their food, has it boxed up, and then leaves as well. Even Mel, who doesn’t like Annie, seems to be taking her side in all of this.

  Once the guys are done eating, I pay for the bill, and stalk out of the restaurant, leaving them to trail behind me. They know better than to talk to me right now.

  “I’m heading back to the bus,” I snap.

  “Alright bro, but we’re going to hang around town for our last hour,” Jenner explains.

  “Whatever.”

  I don’t care that we have another hour left in Nashville. I just want back on the bus.

  I fleetingly think of Annie and I get sick to my stomach. I'm not going to give her the satisfaction of going to her on my knees, because that’s what she wants. But I can’t deny that I want to go to her. I want to confess that I have been an asshole, that she was right about everything and that I don’t deserve her. I never have and I never will.

  And worst of all, I want to beg for her forgiveness. To ask if we can try again which I knew is totally ridiculous at this point. How many chances can I really expect? What the fuck is wrong with me? I always have to fuck up the good things.

  I reach the tour bus, throw the door open and stomp inside. I just want to be alone. I jam my iPod into the surround sound speakers, and put on a blaring Metallica song. I don’t even pay attention to what song it is; I just want something loud that’s going to drown out the noise inside my head.

  I pace the bus like a caged animal, and I know that I’m not going to be able to rest. I peer through the blinds at the girls’ tour bus. Do I dare go over there and try to talk to Annie? My blood boils, and I know that I don’t want to talk, I want to yell.

  Without thinking, I throw the door open and jump out of the bus. I run over to the smaller bus where the girls are staying and bang my fist hard against the door. Liz pulls the door open and stares at me from the top of the steps.

  “What do you want?” she asks in a hard voice.

  Her attitude pisses me off. I don’t like that she’s defending Annie.

  “I want to see Annie. And don’t forget that you fucking work for me,” I add spitefully, “so why don’t you drop the bitchy attitude.”

  Liz looks mollified, her gaze softens and she nods.

  That was a dickhead move on my part but I'm on a mission and I'm not taking prisoners.

  Annie appears behind Liz, her cheeks are still pink from her earlier outburst.

  “Now that you’re done threatening Liz,” she says coolly, “what do you want from me?”

  “I need to talk to you,” I say in a tight voice.

  “So talk.” Annie’s voice is devoid of emotion.

  “Outside, please.”

  “Oh, like how I wanted to talk to you in private at the restaurant but you said at your table was just fine?” she asks sarcastically.

  "Uh, yeah."

  “Whatever,” she hisses, marching down the stairs to meet me outside.

  Liz closes the door behind her.

  “What th
e fuck was that about in the restaurant?” I burst, even though I know damn well what it's about. I think I’m more angry over the fact that it will probably show up on the Internet, than I am about what actually happened. I would never admit it, but Annie was right about me.

  “Really, Dom? You came over here to ask what that was about?” All her anger seems to dissipate and she just looks at me with tired eyes. “I don’t have time for this, Dom. Please just leave me alone. I promise I will continue to work my ass off to help put on a great show for you but I can't put up with your games anymore.”

  This defeat, and this promise to work hard for me are just too much. It’s like I’ve broken her. She warned me that she was fragile, that she had been burned too many times. I knew she was going out on a limb for me, and I didn't respect that.

  “Annie,” I start, and I can hear the emotion in my voice, “You were right, okay? You were right about everything you said. I’m a womanizer, a douche, and an arrogant prick. I’m all those things.”

  I bang my fist against the bus in frustration.

  “I don’t know how to change! I want to change for you, honest I do, but I’m stuck! And all that shit between you and I, all the sharing – it freaked me out.”

  Annie isn’t going to forgive me so easily though.

  “I’m really sorry it freaked you out, Dom,” she says mockingly, “That’s what two people do when they get to know each other better. When they are pursuing a relationship.”

  “I know, alright, I know. I fucked up. I went out there and did that first show in LA, and I remembered all the past shows. How I had all the women I wanted, how I didn’t have to answer to anyone and it freaked me out.”

  “Fine, Dom, fine! Then go have all the random ass you want, all the hook ups you can handle. Go for it! Have fun! But please leave me alone!”

  Her eyes well up with tears, and she wipes furiously at them. I can tell she does not want to cry in front of me.

  “But that’s just the thing,” I say softly, “I told myself that’s what I was going to do. That I was going to cut you off so I didn’t have to share myself and be emotional. But then I didn’t want any of the old stuff. Because being with you is a thousand times better than any random chick I can pick up after a show. You never made me feel like you only wanted a piece of me because I'm a rock star. I mean, I know you have a penchant for bad boy rockers, but I felt like you liked me for who I was.” I pause, debating if I’m going to say everything I’m thinking. “I felt like you liked me because I Dominic. The rocker, the asshole, the normal person, the little kid who got knocked around by his dad. You saw past my persona. And I want another chance with you.”