Bad Boy Roomie (The Bad Boy Roomie Romance Series Box Set)

by Claire Adams

  “What’s up, Florida?” I yelled as the guys launched into the song we always opened with. “Are you ready to do this? Are you ready to rock?” It was my typical concert opening line, so I tried to sell it even though I knew it fell a little short of my usual enthusiasm.

  They screamed back, and I grinned, sliding my gaze to the wing where I knew Nalia liked to stand even though she was avoiding me. It was like she knew I couldn’t just run off stage and force her to talk to me. But she wasn’t there. The spot was empty. Intense disappointment washed over me with its bone-chilling certainty, and even the roar of the crowd couldn't do anything to lift my spirits when I saw the empty spot.

  Nearly missing my cue, I caught it just in time and started to sing, the weight of her absence as heavy as a rusty anchor dragging itself across the sea floor. Where the hell was she? She couldn’t possibly be so mad at me that she wasn’t going to support the rest of the guys. The thought that she might have left scared me shitless.

  I tried to focus on the songs, but I was on autopilot; my thoughts kept swirling around the fact that she still hadn’t shown up to keep an eye on things from the sidelines. She couldn’t have just up and left. We hadn’t even discussed whatever it was that had happened between us.

  Somehow, I made it through the songs without screwing any of them up. It certainly helped that the crowd was one of the better ones we had performed in front of in a while. For that, at least, I was grateful. As I started into the last song, I focused only on the top deck, hoping Nalia was listening somewhere, hoping she was somewhere that she could hear the words and the way I sang the ballad.

  Earlier, she had been a distraction when I practiced it, but this evening all I could think about was her—wishing she was sitting there listening once more. I had hoped she was going to be my saving grace. But she wasn’t there.

  “Encore! Encore!” the crowd screamed as I finished the final notes of the last song, knowing that our set was complete. I gave them a smile and a wave of my hand and walked off stage, just like we always did, so that we could catch a breather before launching into two more songs.

  “God, those people are amazing tonight! They've really got me all revved up!” Talon announced. “I totally feel like I could play another full set right now!” he remarked as he grabbed the towels we had placed backstage, or rather that Nalia had placed there for us. The thought of her had me scanning the wings again, looking for her face, even if it was an angry one. I just needed to see her.

  When I didn’t find her amongst the sea of faces, I grabbed a stagehand who was walking past. “Hey, have you seen Nalia around?”

  He looked at me a little confused, like I should have known something I clearly didn’t. “Dude, she left right after you guys went on stage.”

  I let go of his arm. “Thanks,” I said as all of the fight left me. I couldn’t go back out there and pretend that everything was okay when my world was on its side. “I’m done,” I announced to surprised looks from the rest of the guys and the staff close by. “No encores tonight.”

  “But, it’s our next-to-last show for this tour,” Talon said, frowning. “Why wouldn’t we do an encore?”

  “Because I just don’t fucking feel like it,” I growled, yanking my mic off and walking away, not caring what they thought. “Fuck the encores. You guys can go out there and jam an instrumental if you want, but I'm done. I can’t do this tonight.”

  I needed to find Nalia.

  The private car ride to the hotel was excruciating. I checked my cell phone a dozen times; each time ended with my thumb hovering over the button that would dial her number. I was afraid I wouldn’t get her or that I would get her and not know what to say. What would I say? This was a serious Catch 22 moment. Any blind man could see there was something wrong between us, something much more than just her not wanting to see me anymore.

  As I rode, I fantasized that she just wanted to surprise me back at the hotel, to make up for whatever had been going on for the past month. But deep down, I knew that couldn't be the case. I wished it were; it would have been beyond amazing if it were. But I knew in my heart that it couldn't be. Still, the thought raised a flare of hope just fantasizing about the possibility. I prayed it was true, needed to hope that it was true. But I knew better.

  The car pulled up to the front door, and I hopped out. For the first time in my career, I walked in, ignoring the fans gathered there as I made my way inside. Nalia was the only thing on my mind. I hurried upstairs and pushed open my hotel room, still half expecting to find her standing there, that small smile on her face. Instead, I found an empty room, no different than I had left it. Dammit.

  With a heavy sigh, I walked over to the bed and plopped down. The flashing indicator on the phone caught my eye. A message. There were never messages in the hotel. A funny feeling attacked my stomach as I picked up the phone and pressed the button. The moment I heard Nalia’s sweet voice filling my ear, I wasn’t sure if I should smile or throw up.

  “Owen,” she began, her voice not breathless like I had heard it in the past when she said my name, “by the time you hear this, I will have already headed for home. I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore. I’m not cut out for this and, obviously, my presence is causing more of a distraction than a help, so I think it’s best that I go now. I want to thank you for the opportunity again.” She paused, and I felt a glimmer of hope, hoping that she would say something about us and not this business-like response she was giving me.

  “I hope you can find a replacement quickly for the next leg of the tour. I’m sorry. I was looking for something on the road, and I… Well, I didn’t find it. Goodbye, Owen.”

  The line went silent, and I stood there, totally unable to believe what she had just done. She had fucking left. And, left me with nothing more than a cold voicemail and no explanation of why she had done this. I didn’t buy her story, not even a little bit. She was beyond cut out for this. She was a natural.

  I threw the phone down, causing the rest of the receiver to fall to the floor as I sank back onto the bed, my head in my hands and my heart twisting painfully in my chest. She had left me. The woman that I had come to realize was meant to be mine, the woman I had looked all my life for, was gone.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Nalia

  I headed toward the kitchen, following the trail of the aroma of percolating coffee until it completely filled the air. After a long flight and a layover from hell, I had finally arrived sometime after five in the morning. Falling into my own bed was indescribable, but I only had a few hours of sleep before my dreams had morphed into nightmares. And since then, I had barely slept, tossing and turning. I finally realized there would be no way to get any more rest, so I stopped trying.

  I knew it had been crazy for me to leave like I had, but at least that way I had avoided any painful goodbyes and awkward conversations. I was done with the tour and the road. It had been a nice fantasy to entertain, but the reality of it had turned out to be something more than I was able to deal with.

  Grace stood in front of the sink as I approached, already dressed in her running attire for her early morning jog.

  “Hey,” I said quietly.

  She all but screamed and whirled around, her eyes widening when she saw it was me. “Geez, Nalia! You nearly gave me a heart attack! What on earth are you doing here?”

  “I’m home,” I said, reaching for a mug from the overhead cabinet. “It’s all over with.”

  Grace’s arms went around me and hugged me tightly. “I thought you still had another week before you would be home. I mean, Bleeding Heart's tour isn't finished yet, right? What happened out there on the road?”

  I shrugged as she released me, reaching for the pot of liquid courage—something I would need a great deal of in the weeks to come, I imagined.

  “I just... I guess I just needed to be home. I reached a point where I just couldn't do it anymore.”

  She laughed and grabbed my arm lightly, rolling her eyes. �
��I know that's a load of crap, Nay. Sorry, but I know you way better than that. Hell, I can see it written all over your face. What did he do, and how involved were you?”

  “Is it really that obvious?”

  She nodded. “Uh, yeah. It is. You know how well I know you. I can tell from a mile away. No offence, Nalia, but you're easier to read than a Doctor Seuss book.”

  As bad as I felt, I couldn't help chuckling a little at her comparison.

  “Wow, I didn’t think I was so transparent,” I said, setting my mug down and leaning against the cabinet, the hurt from leaving Owen and the jetlag catching up with me quickly after the mild amusement from the joke disappeared.

  “Well, maybe not to everyone, but you are to me,” she replied gently. “So, tell me what happened out there?”

  I sighed and shook my head as I replied. “I screwed up...big time.”

  “Did you screw up, or did you screw him up?”

  “I screwed up. Hell, I don’t know. Maybe both. I did exactly what you don’t do on the road with famous rock musicians.”

  She reached across and placed a gentle, soothing hand on my forearm. There were tears beginning to threaten her eyes. The concern of a lifelong best friend who was really more like a sister began to show through. She ached for me, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness.

  “You fell in love with him, didn't you, Nay?”

  I nodded, unable to say a word through the sickening sensation welling up inside my chest as tears began to roll down my cheeks.

  “Oh, honey,” Grace replied softly, pulling me into a comforting hug. “I’m so sorry. Did he tell you to leave? Is that what happened?”

  Surprised at the tears coursing rapidly down my cheeks, I shook my head. “No, I left because I couldn’t take being around him another day. He’s been sleeping with other women the whole time. We never said we were exclusive, but he led me to believe I was the only one. I should have known he was too good to be true! I should have known! I'm such an idiot! I can't believe I fell for him. I really can't believe it.”

  “Shit, did you catch him in the act?” she asked, pulling back to look at me. I reached into my pocket of my pajama pants where my cell phone was and quickly found the picture that I had saved on my phone. I didn’t know why I had saved it, but it was there, serving as a constant reminder of what had happened, what Owen had done.

  She took the phone and looked at it, glancing back up at me, confusion written plainly across her face. “This is why you left?”

  I nodded. “Of course, she’s all over him,” I replied miserably. “She’s kissing him, Grace. And, that's just one girl out of how many? You should have seen them—women everywhere, just swarming over him, with their tits bared and their asses out, begging him to touch them. Those guys are just drowning in hot, available women, they really are. So how many other times has he done this? How many times did he do this without getting caught?” I motioned back to the picture on the phone again.

  Grace looked at the photo a moment longer before handing back to me. “I don’t know, Nalia. Usually, I've got your back. But if this is all you have to go on, sweetie, I think you might be wrong on this one. He looks like he was caught off guard. See? His hands aren’t even touching her. It looks like she's the only one who's enjoying this kiss. It doesn't look like he's into it at all. In fact, it looks like he's trying to get himself away from her.”

  I looked closely at the photo, but I was still unable to see what Grace seemed to be seeing. Instead, what I saw was betrayal. What I saw was a man that had let me believe he was different than most men in his position. What I saw was a man I couldn’t trust.

  How could I live in his world with the constant worry that he was going to move onto something new, something different one day just because it was presented to him? After all, he wasn’t lacking for a constant supply of young, hot, eager women. How could I keep up with the rigors of being involved with a rock star? Just the thought scared the hell out of me.

  “God, it’s almost time for lunch,” Grace announced with a sigh. “Want to go grab something to eat?”

  I nodded. “I’ll go get ready,” I replied and walked back to the bedroom, turmoil churning in my gut. What if I had been wrong to leave Owen? What if I had thrown away what we had because I assumed something was going on? Ugh, I was so unbelievably confused.

  Grace and I walked to our favorite place on the corner to grab some salads. As we sat and ate, I tried to catch her up on everything that had happened since the last time we’d talked. We hadn’t had much time to talk because she’d been busy working during the days, and I typically did most of my work at night. So, I gave her the entire, sordid story of Owen and me. Not the easiest thing to do since I found myself fighting surges of intense emotion from time to time as I talked about him. I had loved him, and I couldn't deny that no matter how much I wished it hadn’t been true.

  “I hate to say this, Nay, but I still don’t really understand why you left,” Grace remarked as we walked out of the restaurant and toward a frozen yogurt place a few blocks down, the heat driving us to something cold. “Why didn’t you at least talk to him?”

  I hesitated before answering. It was a question I’d asked myself at least a hundred times. The conclusion I had come to was, “I was scared,” I admitted with a sigh, thinking of the sheer terror that had been in my heart last night as I dialed the number to Owen’s hotel room. Leaving that voicemail had been the hardest thing I had ever done, and I knew Owen was probably pissed off. Not just about my leaving, but the way I had left. I just hadn't known what else to do at the time.

  “Well, I just don’t know what to tell you, Nalia,” Grace said as my phone vibrated in my pocket.

  I pulled it out and frowned, not recognizing the number. I hesitated to answer it, but I pressed the green button and held it up to my ear. “Hello?”

  “Nalia? This is Beth from the agency.”

  “Hi, Beth,” I said, hoping that Owen hadn’t called and raised hell or done anything to prevent me from getting another position through them. I still needed to support myself, and if I got a black mark against me, I wasn't sure how I was going to do that. “What can I do for you?” I asked.

  “Mr. Young’s secretary called,” she said, causing my heart to slow in my chest. “She stated that he left you a bonus check at the studio to be picked up at your convenience. He appreciates all of your hard work.”

  I stood there, mouth gaped open, confused. He had given me a bonus? I had ditched them and fled in the middle of the night, yet he had given me a bonus? “I, um, thanks for letting me know, Beth,” I mumbled.

  She said something about letting them know when I was ready for another assignment and then said her goodbye. I hung up the phone, shaking my head.

  “What’s wrong?” Grace asked, surely puzzled by the look on my face.

  “That asshole gave me a bonus,” I uttered, my voice shaking with anger. “He paid me off.”

  She frowned. “And you are pissed because?”

  “I don’t want to be paid off!” I exclaimed, shoving my phone back into my pocket.

  “Okay, I’m confused,” she announced. “What do you want?”

  I had wanted him, his heart, all of him. I didn’t want his money. That bonus was nothing more than an insult to injury. Besides, the last thing I wanted was to risk running into him at the studio if I went to pick it up. “Damnit, I don’t want his money. I still fucking want him. But, at the same time, I don’t.”

  “Hate to play Devil’s Advocate here, but you left him, remember?”

  “Damnit, Grace,” I muttered, no longer wanting yogurt. I had left him, yes, but I hadn’t wanted anything else from him. My heart still ached every time I thought about him. “I’m not going to take it. I’m not taking his damned bonus.”

  Grace grabbed my shoulders and forced me to look at her. “You’re insane. Take the money and forget about him. You still have to live, you know. Do I need to remind you that you're now
unemployed again? What if it’s months before you find another position?”

  I sighed, knowing she probably right. My car had broken down on the way back from the airport this morning, and after some fiddling with the battery, I was able to get it to limp back home and leave it in the driveway. It needed some serious work, and the extra money would go a long way toward making that happen.

  “Fine,” I finally said. “I’ll go get the money.” Besides, Owen was in Florida for another few days, and my chances of running into him were non-existent if I went before he and the band got back to L.A.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Owen

  It was a perfect Southern Florida day, the sun high in the air with a slight breeze coming off of the ocean as Talon and I sat down at an outdoor table alongside the beach. As I looked out over the blue expanse of the ocean, my stomach started to rumble at the thought of a big breakfast.

  We were actually finished with the first leg of the tour. But, for some reason, as well as all of our shows had gone, I didn’t feel like I had accomplished anything. Instead, I felt empty, the sting of Nalia’s abrupt departure still a bruise on my heart.

  I hadn’t realized how much she had become part of my life until she was no longer there, and I hadn’t slept much at all since her absence. As much as I tried to ignore them, thoughts of her ran through my head so much that it was rare now to find myself thinking about anything else. Still, what could I do? What happened had happened. She made her choice, she left, and that's about all there was to it. I would simply have to accept it and get over it.

  “I’m starving,” Talon remarked as he looked at the menu. “I think I could eat everything on this damn thing.”

  “Well, I guess that means I’ll be fronting the bill then,” I said dryly. He gave me the middle finger, and I sighed, glad my brother was talking to me again after our “heated misunderstanding,” as Talon was calling it.