Down To You: Rockstar Romance (Sixth Street Bands Book 5)

by Jayne Frost

  Her gaze darted to my left, and she pressed her lips together. Reluctantly, I turned just enough to find Elise hovering a few feet away, trying to get my attention. She had a brunette with her. A pretty little thing with dark hair and eyes to match.

  Seizing the opportunity to get away from Anna, I said, “We’ll talk about this later,” not caring one bit if she got the wrong impression. At least it would buy me some peace.

  She patted my arm. “Sure, Lo.”

  As soon as Anna was gone, the brunette left Elise in the dust and strolled over.

  “Hi,” she said, peering up at me through her lashes.

  Spotting the VIP pass around her neck, I gave her a smile and then shifted my focus to our coordinator. But Elise was too busy glaring a hole in the back of the brunette’s head.

  “It was nice to meet you, Jenny,” she said in the most sarcastic tone I’d ever heard her use.

  “It’s Ginny,” the brunette corrected with a dramatic eye roll.

  “What. Ever,” Elise shot back through clenched teeth. “Have a good time, y’all. I’ve got to get back to work.”

  Confused, I sidestepped Jenny or Ginny, or whatever the fuck her name was. “Wait,” I hissed. “What is this?”

  Elise inhaled a controlled breath as she turned to me. “This is your VIP. Full platinum, just like you requested.” When I continued to stare at her, dumbstruck, she pinched the bridge of her nose. “You forwarded me her information a couple of days ago. Ring any bells?”

  Laurel’s friend.

  Shit.

  Roughing a hand through my hair, I sighed. “Yeah, right. Sorry. I mean … thanks.”

  Elise shook her head, muttering to herself as she marched away.

  I nearly plowed right into Ginny when I turned around. And because she was my sister’s friend, someone who’d showed Laurel a kindness when I wasn’t around to do it myself, I forced a smile.

  “So, Ginny, is it?” I wasn’t completely sure of the name until she nodded. “How about I get you a drink and then we can find a good spot so you can take in the show?”

  Technology can suck a dick.

  I took another sip of wine, contemplating something worse.

  The shriveled dick of a ninety-seven-year-old man.

  Glaring at my laptop, I muttered, “Yeah, I’m talking to you.”

  But it wasn’t the shiny silver computer I was mad at. It was myself. I should’ve known that once Logan was away from this little bubble we’d created, it would burst.

  And it had.

  Not seven hours after he’d left me, pictures popped up on social media. Photos of Logan with the brunette glued to his side. He’d asked me to go to the show with him. But being his first choice gave me little comfort. I wanted to be his only choice. Not his forever choice. But was it too much to ask for him to be satisfied with only me for one day?

  He’s a rock star, Inner bitch singsonged, like that was an excuse.

  “Fuck that,” I said to no one as I poured another glass of Pinot. “I’m a rock star. Rhenn was a rock star.”

  Guilt crawled over me. Rhenn wasn’t Logan and Logan wasn’t Rhenn. The comparison wasn’t fair to either of them.

  Rhenn and I had taken vows. And he’d never cheated. Logan was a fling. So technically, he wasn’t cheating either. Which left me with no good reason to be angry.

  Except that I was.

  Stewing, I turned on the TV, since there was no way I was getting near the computer again.

  And I drank.

  Over the next four hours, I finished the bottle of wine and cracked open a pint of that cranberry whiskey Taryn liked.

  I wasn’t drunk. Just comfortably numb.

  Pouring another shot, I gazed around at the clothes strewn on the chair, the dresser, and the floor. Logan’s and mine. Comingled.

  What a joke.

  Infusing steel into my spine, I dragged my rollaway from the closet with every intention of packing. But then a rerun of The Bachelor diverted my attention. By the time the rose ceremony came to an end, I decided that I needed a reality show of my own.

  Maybe I was a little drunk. And pathetic, since I’d stayed up all night obsessing about Logan and what he was doing.

  Making use of the cabanas the venue provided, I assumed.

  With the brunette.

  Just before sunrise, a car door slammed outside. Creeping to the window, I peered out the shutters. Logan, looking totally disheveled as he walked the well-lit path to the carriage house.

  Not his carriage house.

  Mine.

  Hell no.

  Smiling smugly, I crossed my arms over my chest and waited for Daryl to tell Logan to get lost. Nothing.

  The fuck?

  I heard the beep as the lock disengaged. Surprised, I jerked my gaze to the nightstand where one of the plastic keys was missing. And then Logan was climbing the stairs.

  Grabbing a handful of clothes from the floor, I stalked to my suitcase and tossed the items inside.

  “Couldn’t sleep?” he asked after a moment.

  Anger expanded in my chest. Invisible. Noxious. Turning to unleash my wrath, I found him staring at me. With a damned smile. Pushing off the banister, he crossed the room, crooked grin firmly in place.

  Stunned, I froze when he gathered me in his arms, breathing me in like I was his air.

  Some of my anger dissipated from the contact. No. Sliding my palms to his chest, I ignored the heat and the sparks igniting under my skin, and I shoved. Well, nudged. It barely fazed him. All I got was a weird look when he tipped back.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, not at all pleased with the softness in my tone.

  He cocked his head to the side. “Where else would I be?”

  I felt my eyes narrow and registered the surprise on Logan’s face when he noticed. “At the venue.”

  With the brunette, and screw that chick, I wasn’t going to mention her. Give Logan that kind of power. But then I realized, he’d probably already screwed her. And the only power I had was flight. I could leave.

  Logan’s gaze shifted to my laptop. He stared for a good twenty seconds before bringing his eyes back to mine.

  And then he pressed a napkin into my hand. “I got this for you,” he said as he toed off his boots. “They didn’t have plain sugar, so you’ll have to settle for chocolate chip.”

  Sinking onto the side of the bed, I blinked at the cookie while he tugged his shirt over his head.

  “Just tell me, Lo,” I said softly.

  He tossed his wallet on the nightstand. “Tell you what?”

  When I met his gaze, he didn’t shy away. “Who’s the girl?”

  “A friend of my sister’s. I got her a VIP pass.” He took a step toward me. “Would you believe me if I said I didn’t fuck her?” Another step. “That she didn’t blow me and that I didn’t even kiss her? And that I sat in a car for four hours in traffic, just so I could get back here and bring you that fucking cookie?” Tucking his knuckle under my chin, he nudged my head back, blue eyes digging into mine. “Would you believe any of that, Victoria?”

  He sounded sincere, but more than that, why would he lie? He didn’t have to. We weren’t committed.

  I sighed. “You don’t owe me anything, Lo. We’re not … we haven’t …” I licked my lips. “I just want the truth. Is that the truth?”

  His hand slid to the back of my neck. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”

  Please don’t let me be making a mistake.

  “Then … I believe you.”

  He blinked like he was surprised. Like I’d given him a present. And then he smiled, thumb stroking my cheek. My lips. The curve of my jaw.

  “If you don’t want to go to the shows with me, that’s cool. But I’d hate to come back one night and find you out with some dude. So why don’t we keep it exclusive until …”

  Until.

  The proposal dangled between us, open ended. We could end tomorrow. Or next week.

  Or never.
/>   I smiled at the hopeful girl whose voice echoed somewhere deep inside. She was still in there. Broken and small. But still around.

  With her urging, I leaned into Logan’s touch. “Until is good.”

  36

  New York, NY.

  Standing outside the Good Morning America Studio in Times Square, I toed the black X taped to the stage while we waited for our segment to be announced.

  Beside me, Cameron fiddled with his guitar strap. “I can’t believe this,” he said out of the corner of his mouth, his eyes shining with excitement as he glanced over the crowd. “How did we even get here?”

  I cut my gaze right, zeroing in on Tori. The tiniest of smiles curved her lips, and I knew her eyes were locked on mine behind her dark shades.

  “No clue, bro,” I replied, smiling back at her.

  But I knew. I was in bed with Tori when she got the call from Taryn informing her that Justin had a sore throat and Drafthouse had to beg off the charity show in Central Park.

  Did I feel bad that Tori gave Caged the nod? No. Did it drive home the point that we had to keep our casually exclusive whatever-the-fuck-we-had-going-on private? Absolutely.

  Honestly, it was getting harder to do. In the two weeks since we’d left Tennessee, I’d made an effort to manage my time better. I owed it to my band, my music. But dragging myself away from Tori was difficult.

  Maybe once we got home …

  I didn’t want to think about home.

  I was happy just being out here on the road, experiencing all this shit with my girl.

  My girl.

  Slowly, I felt my brows turn inward, because when did that happen?

  Contemplating, I chanced another peek to my right just as the host bounded onto the stage. The crowd erupted into applause, but all my focus was on raven hair, honey-colored eyes, and the sun-bright smile directed solely at me.

  Tori was my girl. A piece of her anyway. Maybe that’s all she had to give. A piece. Maybe the lingering sadness in her eyes was the one fragment she could never give anyone. The piece that died with him.

  And maybe I’d have to be all right with that.

  For now.

  The sun poured through the fortieth-floor window, casting a glare on my iPad. Even with the spots dancing on the screen, I could clearly make out Taryn’s snarl.

  “I’m going to kill him, Belle.”

  I nodded wearily, my attention divided between our conversation and the phone resting next to me on the couch. Elise was already at the next location upstate, leaving me to handle some of the logistics for this event. Not that there was much to handle. The free show in Central Park wasn’t a Twin Souls production. Caged was one of half a dozen bands slated to perform at the concert to raise money for the New York Endowment for the Arts.

  “I can’t believe you’re so calm,” Taryn huffed, suspicion threading her tone. “Why?”

  It was hard to get worked up with a steady dose of oxytocin flowing through my system from all the sex. I’d looked it up because I thought there was something wrong with me. Ever since Logan and I started hooking up, I stayed in a perpetual state of near bliss. I vaguely recalled this feeling from my youth, the all-over body glow I had when Rhenn discovered how to give me an orgasm. But this was different. More intense. Maybe because I didn’t know back then that life was fragile. Happiness was fleeting.

  Nothing lasts forever.

  Shaking that thought away, I refocused on my best friend. “What’s the use in getting upset? Mac’s going to do what he’s going to do.” It was the truth. Mac wasn’t trying to get my attention. Or make me see reason. He was greedy. But he couldn’t exactly take me down without doing serious harm to his own image. So why not destroy mine?

  Taryn chuffed out a breath. “We’ll see. When are you coming home?”

  “After the Florida show.”

  She marked it on the big ass planner she kept on her desk. “Are you flying out with the boys?” My blank expression drew a frown. “Dylan and Becks? They’re coming home to speak with Miles about signing over his rights to the unreleased tracks, remember?”

  Pulling my legs under me, I traced a finger over the heart I’d drawn on the knee of my jeans in red marker. Was I in high school? All I needed was Logan’s initials in the center.

  “Yeah,” I said slowly, smoothing a hand over the little doodle. “I won’t be flying anywhere with Dylan.”

  A long moment of silence turned into two, and I could practically feel a piece of Taryn shrinking from the finality of my statement. The screw in my chest tightened, and I shifted my gaze to the New York skyline to avoid the discontent in her eyes.

  Whether she wanted to admit it or not, Taryn held onto the hope that someday Dylan and I would get together. Like he could be inserted into Rhenn’s spot in all our framed pictures and the evolution would be complete.

  I couldn’t fault her. Hell, a year ago, I was her. When Taryn decided to leave her ex behind and pursue a relationship with Chase, it was like something shifted in our world. Like the door to the past was closing, sealing our memories on the other side.

  “Why?” Taryn finally asked, her voice almost child-like.

  Sighing, I met her stormy blue gaze. “I’m trying to move on.” The truth spilled over my tongue, bitter and sweet in equal measure. “Dylan … he’ll never be more to me than a friend. One of my best friends. But that’s all.” A knock echoed off the high ceiling in the suite, saving me from any further explanation. “Someone’s here.” I smiled. “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

  Taryn cleared her throat, holding me tight with unblinking eyes. Like if she didn’t let go, I’d change my mind.

  After a moment, she finally relented. “Yeah, okay.” My finger hovered over the end button, waiting. Hoping. “I love you, Tori.”

  I released the breath I’d been holding. “I love you too, T-Rex.”

  She cut the connection before I had the chance, and a background photo of Rhenn populated the screen, superimposed over my reflection. Gazing into his rich, chocolate brown eyes, I waited for the searing pain to take me whole. But all I felt was a dull ache in the place where he’d always live.

  A second knock brought me back to the present, and I struggled to my feet.

  “Coming!” I called as I padded across the plush carpet.

  Popping up on tiptoe to check the peephole, my stomach did a flip when I spied the redhead standing in the hall. Anna. I smoothed my hair—why I didn’t know—then opened the door, offering a cautious smile. “Hey, uh … Anna.”

  She blinked at me, her mouth slightly agape. From what Logan had told me, Anna was a fan, so I waited patiently for the awkward moment to pass. Within seconds, Willow surged forward, throwing her arms around my legs. “Vitoria!”

  She beamed up at me with a gap-toothed smile that melted my insides. I’d steered clear of Willow since our outing in St. Louis, the longing that hummed beneath my skin more pronounced when she was around.

  “Hi, Willow.” I sifted a hand through her curls while her mother sputtered an apology and tried to peel her daughter off me. “It’s fine, really.” Even though I had no idea what brought them here, or if I really wanted to know, I shuffled back to allow them entry. “Come in.”

  “We don’t want to intrude,” Anna said, looking around as she stepped inside. “We were just wondering … I mean, Willow was wondering … and me too … if you’d like to go to the park? With us?” A blush detonated on her pale skin. “Would you like to go to the park with us?”

  It took me a second to decipher the rambling invitation. “Oh … I …”

  “Pweese, Vitoria. Come to the pawk.” Willow peered up at me with expectant blue eyes.

  What choice did I have?

  “Yeah … sure, that sounds like fun,” I found myself saying with a gesture toward the living room. “Y’all have a seat, and I’ll find my shoes.”

  Anna took Willow’s hand and they sat on the couch while I did a quick sweep of the room for anything in
criminating. Logan had been pretty careful about leaving his stuff lying around since the Tennessee incident, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be some trace of him here since he stayed in my room every night.

  “Make yourself at home,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”

  As discreetly as possible, I snatched my phone from the sofa cushion. Once I was in the bedroom, I fired off a text to Lo.

  Did you know Anna was coming by?

  The message was delivered, but after a moment, I abandoned hope I’d get a return. Logan was terrible about responding to texts. He didn’t even look at his phone half the time.

  Growling in frustration, I plucked my sneakers from the floor and retraced my steps.

  Perched on the edge of a sofa cushion with her hands clasped in her lap, Anna looked less than comfortable when I returned. “We didn’t mean to bother,” she repeated. “I thought since the guys were going to be busy all day, you might want to get out.”

  There was a familiarity in her statement that caught me off guard. Did she know about Logan and me?

  Reeling from the implications, I eased onto the sofa, my Converse landing on the carpet with a soft thud. “I usually work during the day,” I said weakly.

  I wasn’t above using my position as the bands’ manager to throw her off the scent. Not that it did much good. Anna slowly redirected her gaze to one of Lo’s discarded T-shirts draped over the arm of the chair, and she smiled.

  Shit.

  Since I didn’t have an excuse for that, I shoved my feet into my shoes and then pushed to standing, eager to get out of here before the redheaded bloodhound found something really incriminating.

  I pinned a smile to my lips. “Y’all ready?”

  An hour later, with Daryl standing sentry at the edge of the playground, Anna and I took a seat on the bench facing the sandbox where Willow was playing.

  “Is that weird?” Anna whispered, gesturing to my bodyguard. “Having someone follow you around all the time?”

  I shrugged. “I guess it should be, but I’m used to it.”

  Her green eyes dimmed slightly, and I wanted to kick myself. Even a veiled reference to who I was inevitably circled back to the tragedy.