Releasing Kate: The Acceptance Series

by D. Kelly

  Belle is beaming; her smile is as wide as I’ve ever seen it and I know she’s right. It is huge for me, but it could also be a fluke, so I’m not planning on moving out of my crappy one-bedroom apartment anytime soon.

  “Alright, we’re wasting time being sentimental. Let’s get out of here and go meet your BAD boys.”

  She giggles, “I’m hoping I can get one of them to be bad with me tonight!”

  We both burst out in laughter and head down to the limo; Slam sends their staff out to events in style.

  Once we’re settled in our seats, Belle is bouncing around like an excited teenager, but then again so is almost everyone else here. Thankfully, we’re in the press section so it’s not too overwhelming with overly excited fans. The people in this section at least pretend to tone it down a bit until the show starts. The opening act was good, but for the life of me I can’t remember what they said their name was. Belle is having a blast, just like everyone else. I’m trying to act excited with her, but it’s hard to be excited for a band you don’t really like.

  Music starts blaring and lights begin to flash as the band runs onto the stage one by one.

  “How the fuck are you doing tonight, Los Angeles?”

  The crowd’s response is deafening. Another band member picks up a mic, “I don’t think you heard Nick when he asked you, how the fuck are you doing tonight, Los Angeles?”

  The crowd screams even louder and I’m wishing I would have brought some earplugs to help take down the decibels a bit. A new band member comes from the side of the stage; he’s cute in a tatted down rock star kind of way.

  “Alright, we’re about to kick this bitch off, but before we do and you all are too drunk and hyped up to remember, Sawyer has some news we want to share with you.”

  One band member takes his spot on the drums, the other guys are assembling themselves with guitars, and Sawyer takes the mic. He looks a lot like the cute one, just a little more sinful. I think Belle mentioned there were brothers in the band. I can’t say for sure from here, but I think he even has dimples. Suddenly, I wish Belle’s wish from earlier would come true and we could get them to be bad with us tonight.

  “Los Angeles, are you ready to rock?”

  More deafening screams. I think a girl in the front row just passed out. Good God, it isn’t all that. They’re just men. Sexy as sin men, but just men, and self-proclaimed bastards at that.

  “First, I want to say thank you all for coming out to see us tonight. There were no California shows on our tour schedule since we’re winding down the tour. However, we have some really big news to announce and needed to stop off to give Slam magazine an exclusive interview.”

  I look at Belle and her eyes are wide as saucers; she had no clue the extent of their generosity when they gave Slam tickets and passes. They really wanted to keep this secret since Slam didn’t get a heads up, only an ‘if they have time’ statement.

  “So we figured two birds, one stone. We play for you then do the interview before heading out. And encourage you to pick up Slam magazine in two weeks to read about our exciting news.”

  More cheers and applause explode as the band kicks off the show. Belle has mellowed somewhat and I know she’s wondering how she’s going to pull this off in just a few days. I’ll definitely have to help her now. Slam just went to print with next week’s issue which should be out in a few days. She’s got a small window to write and perfect this article before next week’s issue goes to print.

  Whatever her worries are, she’s over them in a flash and she bounces back up to dance and scream the night away. Of course, I’m not a total downer, so I dance along with her, sharing in her happiness. Even though I’m not a fan of the band I’m a huge fan of Belle and this article is going to launch her career even farther. I’m so proud of her.

  Before the band comes back onstage for their encore, Belle and I make our way down to the backstage entrance. We’re not the only ones with this idea, but we are the only ones with the passes that grant us access to BAD. Thankfully, there are a few bodyguards posted and able to guide us thorough the crowd of crazy bitches. I seriously thought one was going to fight me just to get my pass. Hardcore fans are crazy—throwing underwear, yelling out they want to have their babies. Don’t they realize these men are just people? I don’t know how they can do this; I don’t think I would ever get used to that. How would you ever know someone wanted you just for you and not for all you can do for them?

  We’re ushered down a hallway where we see the band standing, getting ready to go back onstage. From the looks of it, besides the normal crew and staff, we are literally the only people back here with passes. Interesting…

  “We have to go past the band to get to the green room where they’ll meet with you later. Please, don’t make me get rough with you two. If you have fan girl shit to get out of your system, do it in the green room. Don’t say anything to them as we pass, don’t freak out and try to grope them. You’re here in a professional capacity and I hope you’ll continue to act that way.”

  Belle and I exchange looks and I know she’s thinking exactly what I am: this guy is a dick. But he’s doing his job and I guess it’s got to be a hard one. Belle is a fan but she’s professional first. As for me, no worries; I have no need to fan girl over a band I don’t even like.

  As we pass the band, their PA is giving them a two minute countdown. One of the guys looks up at us as we walk by with an interested look on his face. He’s cute, and from the smirk on his face, he knows it. I still feel his eyes on me as we walk by; however, when I cock my head to the side I see it’s not him, but the hot one with the dimples who is staring at my ass. These jeans were so worth the price I paid for them they make my ass look great.

  Mr. gruff and serious puts us in the green room and lets us know we can help ourselves to anything and he’ll be right outside the door.

  “Amelia! Pinch me! Can you believe this? BAD gave one and only one exclusive and it’s mine! Oh my God! This is going to skyrocket my career as long as I don’t screw it up.” I can’t help but laugh at her. Her work is amazing and she has no need to worry.

  “Belle, you’ve got this. Get your squealing out now, take some deep breaths, and get ready for the story of your life. I’m so proud of you and I’m right here, so I’ll help take notes, too.”

  “Thanks, Mel, I knew I could count on you.” After giving me a quick hug, she does indeed get her squealing out of her system while watching the band on the very large TV which is mounted on the wall.

  I can’t stop thinking about ‘dimples’ watching me as we passed by. The thought brings heat between my legs. Even if I shouldn’t let it, he’s not relationship material and I’m nowhere in his league. Besides, all these men have a reputation for one night stands and unemotional flings. Those are two things I can’t do. When I’m sleeping with someone, it’s because I’m invested in them emotionally.

  After the encore, we hear the thunderous applause from the green room. I could swear the walls are shaking from it. Belle starts tapping her foot and picking at her nails because she’s getting nervous.

  “Belle, you need to breathe. They’re just people. You’ve interviewed tons of musicians before and I’ve never seen you this nervous.”

  “I know, Amelia, but this is BAD and they are the holy grail of interviews. I can’t help but be nervous, and besides, they’re super hot.”

  I can’t argue with her there, they are good looking men.

  The voices resonating from the hallway are making their way closer to the room and the door slams open.

  “That was fucking awesome! One of the best shows we’ve done this entire tour. The outdoor venues are so much better, don’t you guys think so?” As they talk amongst themselves, I’m drawn in by their excitement.

  Watching these men come in on their post-performance high is captivating. Their happiness is almost contagious. Belle and I are taking them in, just watching them in fascination. They’ve got a posse of people with t
hem. The PA I saw earlier is trying to wrangle them up while I assume a stylist is the one carrying a few extra shirts.

  The cute one with the dimples takes one of those shirts, pulls his sweaty shirt off over his head, and I watch, mesmerized, by the way his muscles move. His abs are screaming at me to come and lick them, the beads of sweat he’s about to wipe off with the towel are crying out my name. I want to taste his essence on my tongue. But then as fast as the mini porn played out in my head it’s over as the shirt goes on. He catches me looking at him and gives me a sexy smirk again. I’m sure the flush I feel spreading over my face is nothing compared to how it looks.

  I open my water bottle to try and cool myself down from the sudden heat enveloping my body. He’s watching my lips as they touch the rim of the bottle and I wish I was wrapping them around him. I drink slowly, knowing he’s watching me and as I glance up, I see him lick his lips. Holy hell, this is foreplay and yet at the same time couldn’t be anything further from that.

  After about twenty minutes, they dismiss the posse surrounding them and finally sit down across from us. Their manager is an older man with a gentle smile who finally makes all the introductions.

  “I’m Warren, BAD’s manager, and these are the bastards themselves.”

  That elicits a laugh from us all and breaks the ice.

  “Warren, it’s nice to meet you. Thank you for extending this opportunity to Slam magazine. We’re honored for the exclusive. I’m Belle Dixson and this is my good friend Amelia Greyson but we all call her Mel.”

  The cute one snorts out loud and it’s kind of a dick sound.

  “Amelia and Belle. Look, guys, we’ve got our own Disney fucking princesses for the night.”

  “Shut up, Sawyer.”

  “Dick.” It escapes my mouth before I have a chance to even think and Belle looks horrified. Sawyer actually shuts up and a hush falls over the room.

  “That was fucking AWESOME! I’ve never seen anyone call Sawyer out on his shit and I’ve known him all my life. I’m Nick Weston and I’m very pleased to meet you, Amelia.”

  I see Belle exhale then flash me a smile. “Nice to meet you, too, Nick.”

  “I’m with Nick; that was great to see. I’m Darren and the guy at the end of the couch with his head in the book is Wyatt.”

  Wyatt peeks up from the book in his lap and smiles at us.

  “Sorry, I’m behind. I promised my wife I would read this book and I haven’t had much time. I wanted to at least try and squeeze in a chapter before we skype on the bus later.”

  “You’re such a pussy, Wyatt. What man is actually reading The O Factor?” Sawyer laughs at Wyatt and my stomach plummets fast as Belle starts laughing. That’s my book and this is about to get really uncomfortable.

  “One who loves his wife. Why don’t you just go find a chick to hook up with already so you’ll stop being such an ass.”

  “What do you think of the book so far, Wyatt?” Belle asks him and I could kill her!

  “On or off the record?”

  “Off,” Belle replies.

  “It’s interesting. I mean, I’ve never read a girl’s point of view on sex before…it’s crazy. It’s definitely keeping me reading for sure.”

  “Well, it has been number one on the New York Times Bestseller list for three weeks so it’s got to be good.”

  Couch, just swallow me up now, please. I close my eyes and take a breath.

  “What’s wrong, princess Amelia? Are you too prude to talk about a sex book?” Sawyer asks.

  Belle laughs so loud and so long tears are starting to pool in her eyes.

  “Why do I get the feeling I’m missing something here?” Nick asks.

  Belle wipes the corner of her eye and outs me. She’s officially off my Christmas list. “Who wrote that book, Wyatt?” Belle asks sweetly.

  Wyatt flips the book over and a huge smile breaks out across his face. I don’t have a photo on the book, but how many Amelia Greyson’s are just out there walking around? My guess is not many.

  “I think Sawyer is about to eat his words. This night is getting better and better.” Wyatt grabs a pen off the table and brings his book to me. He’s going for dramatic. Lovely.

  “Miss Amelia Greyson, will you please autograph my book for my wife? And before you say no, just keep in mind she’s a huge fan and if I tell her I met you and didn’t get your autograph, I won’t be getting any O’s, either. Her name is Beth.”

  I can’t even bring myself to look at the rest of these guys. Belle is giggling again and I make a note to kill her when we leave here. But Wyatt asked so nicely; how could I not sign his book? I reach out, taking the pen and book from him, and autograph it quickly. I look up when I hand it back to him and all eyes are on me.

  “Never judge a book by its cover, Sawyer,” Nick says to him smugly but his eyes and smile are focused solely on me.

  Nick’s beautiful. I know, it’s odd to describe a man that way but he is and so is Sawyer because they look practically identical. Their eyes are green as a forest, they each have strong, jutted jaw lines, and both are about six feet tall. Sawyer has dimples where Nick is lacking them, but Nick has personality where Sawyer is just an ass. Nick has coppery brown hair but Sawyer’s is black. Sawyer has his lip pierced, Nick his eyebrow. Both have tattoos. I wouldn’t kick either out of my bed.

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Nina Levine’s book, Destined Havoc – Book One of the Havoc Series.

  Available Now

  Excerpt from Destined Havoc

  Book one of The Havoc Series

  Please note all rights are reserved and Copyrighted © by Nina Levine

  Chapter One

  Havoc

  She had to be fucking kidding me. No way was I going there with a crazy bitch who was more than likely just trying to catch herself a man to pay her bills.

  Rubbing her hand against my crotch, she begged, “Come on, baby, take me back to your place and show me how well you can use this.”

  Her hot breath on my ear turned me way the fuck off. Pushing her hand away from my body, I muttered, “I can use it really fuckin’ well, just not with you.”

  She took a step away from me, clearly stunned at my refusal. I knew her type; good looking and easy. It was a pity for her that wasn’t my type anymore. And she was obviously not used to being told no because she wasn’t handling it well. Her face clouded over in anger. “Well aren’t you a prick,” she spat, “Leading me on like that and then telling me no. I’ve wasted my time on you; time I could have spent finding a man who knows a good thing when he sees it.”

  Fuck, bitches like her pissed me off. Usually, I wouldn’t waste my breath on her, but I’d had a shit of a day, and she’d just pushed me that bit too far. “Let’s get something straight, I didn’t fuckin’ lead you on. I didn’t buy you a drink, didn’t do much talking and I sure as hell never gave you the impression I wanted to fuck you. I’ve met too many women like you so I know what you’re after, and there’s no way you’re ever getting it from me. Been burnt once in my life, not going back for seconds. So move the fuck on and leave me the hell alone.”

  She stiffened and her mouth fell slightly open. She recovered fairly quickly though, and narrowed her eyes at me. “Fucking asshole,” she snapped before giving me one last glare and stalking off. I pitied the poor bastard she latched onto next.

  Turning back to the bar, I motioned to the bartender to bring me another scotch, and contemplated why the hell I was back in Brisbane. It had been six months since I’d been here, and a year before that. It was never long enough between visits as far as I was concerned, but my sister had her own way of bringing me back every now and then. When she’d called to tell me our father wasn’t well, I hadn’t hesitated to return home. However, as much as I wanted to check on him, I knew I wouldn’t stick around for long; too many bad memories lived here.

  The bartender brought my scotch over and as I threw it back, a woman settled onto the stool next to me at the bar. I didn’t lo
ok at her, but I knew it was a woman by her smell. Balenciaga. The same fucking perfume my ex fiancé had worn. I loved it, and yet I hated it simply because it reminded me of her. Raising my chin at the bartender, I indicated my desire for more scotch. I’d knock myself out with alcohol before I’d dredge memories of that bitch up.

  “So you’re with Storm, are you?”

  I turned and scowled at her. “I’m not interested. I just want to have a drink in quiet. You think that’s possible?”

  She didn’t flinch, just raised a brow at me, and returned my scowl. “Hate to break it to you, Romeo, but I’m not interested either. I was just asking a question.”

  I’d fully intended on turning away from her and minding my own business, but her smoky voice stopped me. It was the kind of voice that commanded a man’s attention, and it got mine. My gaze lingered on her face for a good while. It was her green eyes that did it; there was something there that called to me. Sadness perhaps. Definitely pain of some sort. Whatever the hell it was, I wanted to know more about her and that was without even taking a look at the rest of her.

  “Yeah, I’m with Storm,” I answered, my gaze steady on hers.

  She nodded, and then broke eye contact to ask the bartender for a drink. I let my gaze drop to her chest and then lower. She wasn’t my usual type; her breasts were smaller than I liked them and she wasn’t as curvy as I preferred. And she was a brunette; I always went for blondes. But fuck, she had something that was making my dick get hard and I needed to know what it was.

  Turning back to me after she’d ordered her drink, she asked, “You know where the ladies room is?”

  I nodded in the direction. “Over that way.”

  She moved off her stool and slid her bag along the bar towards me. “You watch that, I’ll be right back.” Without waiting for my response, she took off in the direction I’d indicated. I watched her go, finding something about her that was definitely my type. Her ass. It had to be one of the best I’d ever seen and desire slammed into me. I wanted to hold that ass in my hands before the night was over.