His Virgin: A First Time Romance

by Vivian Wood

  Everyone fell silent until Deacon’s voice sounded out. “He will,” he declared. “Once you’ve recorded your new album. We’ll put off a tour.”

  Everyone started talking at once, the argument seemingly back in full force. “Enough,” Annie’s voice commanded.

  “That’s months away from happening, Deacon. And you know it. What if he fucking drinks himself to death before then? You think we’ll find a replacement like ‘that’?” Rhys voice rang out, his fingers snapping for emphasis.

  “I’m not putting his life in danger just to wait for a new fucking album, not to mention that as soon as it’s released, it's promos, yet another fucking tour…” Rhys hissed.

  A loud booming laugh came through the vent. Anders’, she thought. His voice was slurred a little, but clearly he found something very funny.

  “I can handle myself, bro.” Definitely Anders then. “What about you, Rhysie? I can handle myself. Always have. You, on the other hand, running around hand in hand with that fucking slut who’s your fake girlfriend? What the fuck are we supposed to do with that? Drawing all this fucking attention to us. We just got off a nine month tour bro, people would’ve left us alone if not for that fucking stunt you pulled. Way I see it, you’re the one we should be worried about! Not enough free pussy out there for you?”

  She held her breath, waiting for Rhys to defend her, to defend them. The silence was deafening before he finally answered, “Go fuck yourself, Anders!” His voice quivered with anger now. Then he said the words that made her head and her heart spiral into unknown depths, bottom out and turn the edges of her vision black.

  “The only fucking reason I brought her into this shitshow to fucking begin with, the only reason I began that fucking relationship is because I wanted to keep the paps from digging. From finding out about your goddamn drug problem!”

  Her heart cracked. Right down the middle, she swore she could feel it happening. Her stomach turned to ice, and a lump that felt like it was the size of a small country formed in her throat. I can’t hear any more of this. I can’t believe it… Actually, I can, but I don’t want to think about it here…

  She slid off the counter and ran from the kitchen, ignoring the looks from the other girls and flung herself up the stairs, almost believing that running from his words would make a difference.

  She threw open the door to his room and took it in. He seemed to have left nothing of himself behind, everything was white, pristine, clinical almost.

  She collapsed into the couch in the corner, closing her eyes and replaying the events of the last few weeks in her head like a movie. How could she have misread the situation so completely? She had fallen totally, madly, crazy, deeply in love with him and he still saw her as nothing but his fake girlfriend?!

  She needed to talk to someone. She needed to scream or cry or die or something. A part of her heart had definitely died in that kitchen. A big part. Most of it. A huge gaping hole now lived in her chest where most of her heart used to be.

  Blindly, she reached for her phone in her bag that she had dropped next to the couch. She tried Katie first but she must have been in class, because she got her voicemail. “Hi, Katie here. I either don’t want to talk to you right now, or I can’t. Either way, I’ll get back to you when I’m ready. Leave love!”

  Mary’s phone also rang to voicemail. Damn it. She couldn’t blame them, really. She'd been missing in action and phone for weeks, it’s not like they should have been hanging around, waiting for her to finally return their calls.

  She sighed. She really wished she had more friends. Or that she could call her parents, have them come get her and take her home where she would be safe… She couldn't do that, though, so she needed to think of something else.

  Out of desperation and despite the way they'd left things, she tried calling Josh. He was still her oldest friend, they'd always been there for each other, and she needed him now more than she ever had. Maybe he’d forgiven her, maybe he hadn’t, but surely he would still speak to her?

  The phone barely rang before he answered. “Serena, are you okay?”

  No. No she wasn't. Sitting up in this clinically white room with no trace of the man who used to live in it, she realized that she'd given up everything and everyone important to her for Rhys and he was still playing the game. His actions were as cold and clinical as this room.

  Not that she blamed him, he’d been clear from the start about what he wanted from her- with her. Sure, it felt like it had turned into something more, but he hadn’t said anything to change the truth she'd known from the beginning. Again, her mistake. Her most grievous mistake…

  How could she have imagined everything between them? It didn't seem possible, but that didn't make it any less true now.

  “Could we meet, Josh? Just for coffee or something? I’m sorry I didn’t keep you up to date, I know that’s why you must be pissed at me, but I just got so carried away!” she nearly sobbed into the phone.

  “Ser? Where are you? What happened? I’m not pissed at you. I’m pissed at myself. What’s wrong? Why does it sound like you’re crying?” He sounded confused, worried.

  “I’m… it doesn’t matter. It’s a long story. I’ll tell you when I see you. Could I see you? I really need to talk to you.”

  “Okay, fine. Yeah, let’s talk. I’m not home, closer to the coffee shop than the apartment. What do you say? Our coffee shop? Now?”

  “Can you get away now?”

  “Yeah,” he hesitated. “I think so. Can you?”

  “Yes. Definitely. It might take me a bit to get there though.”

  “Serena, if you tell me where you are, I can just come get you?” His voice was soft, strained.

  “No! Thanks Josh, but I’ll get there on my own.” Josh could not come here. He’d freak out if he saw where she was.

  As if he could read her mind, she heard him sigh. “I live on this planet, you know. I know you’ve been with him. Your face has been splattered in the tabloids for weeks.”

  She sniffed. “You read the tabloids?”

  “I do now. Let me come get you, Ser, please? Where are you?”

  “It’s okay, Josh… Thanks, but really, I can get there. I need to get out of here. And I don’t want to risk any drama.”

  He paused. “Okay, I’m headed over to the coffee shop now. Looking forward to finally seeing you again. Let me know if you change your mind and want me to come get you, okay?”

  “Okay, I will. See you in a few.”

  Deep breath. If she went… She didn't know if she'd be able to come back. Tears streamed down her face, leaving him was going to hurt like hell. Tear out that last shred of her heart, she knew it. But she had to. She couldn't keep playing his game, she was in too deep, she'd fallen too far to continue playing along for appearance’s sake.

  She took another deep breath as she gathered her things, wiped away the tears for now and headed back downstairs, honing in on Thomas’ bulking framer.

  “Thomas, I need you to take me somewhere. Could I ask you to do that?” The dining room door was still closed, a loud crash resonated from the other side, but no one emerged. Whatever was going on, it didn't sound good. Rhys… what if he was hurt?

  No. Serena. No. That’s not your problem anymore, she silently chided herself. Another deep breath, and she squared her shoulders. Maybe if she looked confident, she'd start feeling it… Doubtful, but worth a shot. At this point, anything was.

  “Sure, Miss Woods. I mean, Serena. Mr. Grant’s orders stand,” Thomas replied stoically as always, but his eyes betrayed him, concern brimming his usually neutral eyes.

  She followed him outside, gripping her purse. Her bag was still in Rhys’ car, but she wasn't going to bother with that right now. He had bought those clothes for his fake girlfriend anyway, let the next one wear them… She would deal with the rest of her stuff later. Mary and Katie would get a kick out of getting it, seeing as how they would be in his house and all.

  She took one final look a
t the Misery house as they drove through its gates and her eyes stung with unshed tears. The man she loved was in that house. She just wished that his heart wasn’t as closed to her as those gates would be again in a few seconds.

  23

  “Is this the place, Serena?” Thomas asked, dropping her outside a coffee shop near her parents’ house. Josh and her had been meeting here for years, it being close enough not to trigger her mother’s separation anxiety too much. It almost felt like coming home as she took in the familiar sight. It was probably the closest thing to coming home she was going to have for a long time.

  “Yeah. This is it. Thanks, Thomas. For everything. You’re a truly nice person. Take good care of him, okay?”

  Thomas gruffly agreed. If he was surprised at her request, he didn't show any sign of it. She hopped out of the car and gave him a tiny wave as he pulled the car back into traffic.

  Josh was already there, waiting at their favorite rickety table outside. One of the few freedoms she'd always enjoyed was meeting Josh for coffee and the familiarity of it all caught her off guard. Josh was blowing into his cup, hands laced around it and staring at his coffee like it held the secrets to the universe.

  He stood as he spotted her, pulling her into a hug.

  “Thanks for meeting me on such short notice. I’m really sorry I’ve been so quiet. I should’ve let you know what was happening with me, but it was… difficult.”

  “Anything for you, Ser. You know that. Always. Don’t ever doubt that. I’m glad you called. What’s going on?” Josh pushed her usual order toward her and waited for her to talk.

  She looked into his familiar face and she was overcome with verbal diarrhea. The coffee, the place, Josh - it all took her back to a time when she used to tell him everything, and that’s exactly what she did.

  Well, she told him everything but the part about it being fake- and the sexually explicit parts, she knew how he felt about that.

  “I’m sorry to be doing this to you again, Josh. I just feel so stupid and used and fucking naïve!”

  “Ser, no one would have passed up on the chance he gave you as an assistant to Misery. I don’t think even I would have passed up the chance to work with Misery! You got to know them, see the inside workings of the band a little. People would kill for that chance. Hell, people would kill for you to write a tell-all novel, but you won’t, will you?”

  “No,” she sniffed. “I love him, Josh. Fucking sad, but just as true. I love him, everything about him, everything that he is, was and will be. Not only the parts of himself the world knows and think they love, I love the real him. All of him.”

  He inhaled a sharp breath. “Between assholes like Bryan and Rhys, how do you even know what’s real?” he questioned.

  Without waiting for an answer, he slid over to her and lifted her chin so that her teary eyes were looking straight into his clear ones, set with determination. “I’m real. I’m real, Ser. Always have been.” Without warning, he brought his lips possessively to hers, his hands in her hair, holding her to him.

  She was so completely shocked that she stilled. Not kissing him back, not moving, she'd just let him move until he was done, until he realized that this was a mistake.

  Suddenly, Josh’s warmth was off her, his breath huffing from him as he was flung against the wall. Out of nowhere Rhys has appeared. Fuck! Thomas must have told him where he had dropped her. Rhys? Why was he here? Why did he even care where she was?

  Rhys’s fist slammed into Josh again.

  “No!” Her voice sounded far more commanding than she felt. “Stop, Rhys.”

  “So this is where you disappeared to? To a secret meeting with your friend? What, you’d rather be with this fucker than with me, Serena?” Rhys demanded, voice dripping with sarcasm.

  “Have you two been together this whole time, taking my money and laughing behind my back? Should have waited until we started recording, Serena. You would have had hours before I would have noticed you weren’t there, but you couldn’t even wait through a band meeting? These last few days must have been hell for you, no wonder you wanted me to drop you off on the way to the beach…” He had the audacity to look hurt, really hurt.

  She kept quiet at first, then gathered her wits and started seething quietly. “First, that fucker - as you so eloquently put it - is one of my oldest friends and you’ve hurt him, and me. Second, how dare you accuse me of that? You know very well what my feelings are about fidelity in relationships, Rhys. Not that that’s what you and I had, obviously. But if I was with Josh, I wouldn’t have been with you. Not for all the goddamn money in fucking world. Last, these last few days at the beach were the complete opposite of hell for me - best days of my life, even - can’t imagine they’ve been the same for you though. So if it’s all the same to you Rhys, I think it’s best if you just leave.” Her throat burned as she said the words, tears streaming down her face again, but there was no escaping what she was to him…

  She had no idea why he had come after her, maybe it was because she shattered his public image, maybe it was because she ended his little game and not him, she didn't know. But she couldn't care, it wasn't because he loved her, that was the only thing she knew for sure, and that was the only thing that mattered.

  Rhys looked at her, hurt and disgust and rage clear in his piercing eyes. “Maybe you were never anything but a fucking fake after all… Don’t fucking call me. Ever. I’m not changing my number again just for this, okay? So do me one fucking favor and lose it!” He didn't look back as he strode toward the car and Thomas sped away.

  24

  Josh had struggled to get up with a, “What the fuck, Serena?” Their coffee waitress had witnessed the encounter and was waiting with a frozen bag of something when he’d found his way to his feet. He’d shot her a long look and then hailed a cab and left. A wounded look on his face indicated that his emotional pain went way past the physical wounds Rhys had inflicted.

  When he was gone, she sat in stunned silence at the events of the last few minutes and then hailed a cab, seriously needing her best friend. She stuttered out Mary’s address through her sobs. She had no idea if she was even home,, but she would just sit and wait if she wasn't.

  Hoping that her friends were home seemed to be becoming a thing with her, she registered in the back of her mind, but she didn't dwell on it. She had no capacity for anything other than Rhys right now. The gaping hole in her chest was burning and her stomach was roiling. It didn't feel like the tears were ever going to end or like this feeling was ever going to subside, so she clutched her arms around herself trying to keep the pieces of her body together when it felt like she was being ripped apart and just kept sobbing.

  “You total and complete sorry excuse for a friend!” Mary exclaimed as she opened her door and threw her arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug before even looking at her properly.

  “You go AWOL with my favorite rock star and I don’t hear a peep!” Her face dropped when she released her and she saw Serena's face.

  “Clearly, said most favorite rock star is not a man for matters of the heart,” she said, pulling her into another hug and closing her door behind them.

  She led her to the patio, mixed them cocktails and stroked her hair while she cried. She just listened, not saying a word as she conveyed the story of her heartbreak through ugly, loud sobs. She sipped her cocktail and the strong alcohol burned down her throat, but it loosened up her tongue and she told her absolutely everything. Even if she had signed a contract saying she wouldn’t tell a soul, she didn't care.

  It took a few hours for her to cry herself out, for now anyway. After the cocktails, Mary had settled her on her couch in a pair of her pajama pants and a tub of ice cream as she listened to her relaying every minute of the past few weeks, how she had fallen head over heels in love with a man who didn’t want her for anything more than to pose for a couple of pictures…

  Now that the tears had subsided and the story had been told, she was exhausted. Comp
letely drained, her mind was numb and each limb weighed about a thousand pounds.

  She had absolutely no idea how she was going to survive this. People died of broken hearts, don’t they? Maybe that was what happening to her she thought as she curled into a ball on Mary’s couch, watching some horrible action movie that she’d just started, clearly sensing that she was done talking for now and needed to just try and deal with this pain for now.

  She didn't know how long she lay there, drifting in and out of consciousness until her eyelids were finally just too heavy and she gave in. Yup, definitely dying, was her last thought as she drifted away with an image of Rhys’s beautiful relaxed smile fixed on her.

  It hit her like a ton of bricks when she opened her eyes as one of Mary’s movies ended. Rhys wasn't here. He was gone. Everything came tumbling back into her mind, the pain worse than before. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block it out. But all she saw was Rhys turning and walking away from her outside that coffee shop. It was real. He was gone. He never loved her.

  Before she started sobbing again, Mary’s eyes caught hers as she spoke softly.

  “He called me, you know?”

  “He? Rhys? How?”

  “Don’t know, my damn heart near seized up when I heard his voice. Don’t know how you survived that voice.” She tried not to think about his voice, that beautiful, melodic voice and bellowing laugh… The tears swam in her eyes.

  “But why’d he phone?” she managed eventually.

  “Wanted to know where I thought you’d be, muttered something about how his security had become too close to you to tell him. He sounded really stressed, at the risk of sounding biased.”

  Oh, bless Thomas! He hadn’t given her location away after all! She knew she liked him, even if it didn’t mean anything now…

  “I told him that since you’d run off with him, he’s the one who should know where you are. But I told him to try the coffee shop anyway. When I asked him why he didn’t know where you were, he said that he had no idea, one second everything was ‘fucking perfect’ and the next you had bolted on him without a word.”