COMING BACK IN A COUPLE DAYS. MEET AT MY PLACE. TEXT YOU WHEN I GET TO TOWN.
I shove my phone back in my pocket as I stand to my feet. I need to get out of here. I feel like I’m suffocating. Leaving the office building, I jog over to my car. It’s a 1971 Hemi Cuda, convertible. I bought it at an auction last year and have been in love with it since.
In Texas, I have a pickup truck, but here I’m all about the classic convertible to drive down the Pacific Coast Highway. Lowering the top, I start the engine, enjoying the roar that fills the air around me. There’s just something about the sound of a tuned-up muscle car that turns me the fuck on.
Speeding away from the office buildings and bumper-to-bumper traffic, I head toward the beach. If I can’t go to endless trees and land like my place in Texas, then this is my second favorite spot, the beach.
When I arrive, I stay in my car, parking it facing the water and I watch. I could go to my house and see the waves roll in and out from my deck, but sitting in a car, it’s different. My phone rings and I shake my head, looking down at the caller ID.
I’m not surprised that it’s one of my friends, but I expected it to be Louis, instead, it’s Rylan.
Rylan’s a nice guy, was a mess for years, but then again, I have been too. I just had the money to hide it and not get caught.
“Hello?” I greet, answering it on the third ring.
“How are you?” he asks.
I pause, unsure of how to answer that. Then I remember that me and Rylan are a lot alike, we’re both addicts trying to live clean lives. We’re both trying to be better people.
“Struggling,” I admit.
“Talk to me,” he demands.
His tone is harsh, but I know that he wants to help me. He’s calling as a friend, as someone who has been in my situation. Granted, our circumstances are vastly different, but me and Rylan aren’t so different on the inside. We’re both addicts and will be until the day that we die.
“My team has scheduled a tour. I don’t know if I’m ready. I want to drown myself,” I freely admit.
Rylan clears his throat, I hear a baby in the background and smile thinking about his new son. I haven’t seen him in person yet, but mixed in with the text messages about being supportive friends, there were some pictures of the new guy.
“You just have to stay aware of how you’re feeling, Beaumont. If you have a moment where you’re struggling, call me, call your sponsor, go to a meeting,” he encourages.
I let out a heavy sigh. “The first stop is Gallup, but it’s a big secret. I’ll be taking off in about a week. I’m going to spend a couple weeks relaxing after the show. I think I need the breather before the insanity of touring begins.”
“That sounds like a good idea, honestly, you should take longer.”
“I know.”
He’s quiet and I stare at the ocean wondering if I’m fucking myself up even more than I already have. Rylan clears his throat before he speaks.
“You are aware. You want to change. You want to be better and I think that you will succeed,” he offers.
Shaking my head, I pinch my eyes closed. “I feel like nothing but a fraud. All I’ve ever done is lie and pretend. I’m great at faking everything about myself. My happiness, my sobriety, everything.”
“Most of us are, Beaumont. You just have a bigger fuckin’ audience.”
Lifting my hand, I run my fingers through my hair, tugging on the end of the strands. Inhaling a deep breath, I let it out with a heavy exhale. Rylan makes a humming noise before he speaks again.
“Be real, Beaumont. Show the world your true self, you have no reason to hide anymore.”
“What if I lose everything? What if I lose my entire career? What if everyone sees me for the fraud that I am?”
“What if you’re even more successful than you are now? You’re talented as fuck. Don’t keep yourself in the box you’ve been shoved inside of. You never were when you were hitting the bars around here, don’t do it now.”
“Fuck,” I hiss. “How in the fuck did you get so goddamn smart?” I ask on a chuckle.
“Five years in the joint will make you real fuckin’ smart, or you die.” He laughs. “Maybe it’s fatherhood though, or Channing, fuck if I know. I’m just glad I’m not the same dumb fuck that I was six years ago and you shouldn’t be the same man you were then either.”
His words slam into me, my gut clenches. He’s right. Fuck.
“Thanks, and Rylan?”
“Yeah?”
“Happy as fuck about your new son, can’t wait to meet him.”
He thanks me and we end the call. I feel lighter, less stressed and ready to take on the tour. Maybe not the world, but at least the tour. I also decide that I’m going to try and work on some new music while we travel, since I can’t get blind drunk anymore, maybe my creativity will flow.
Starting my Cuda, I grin as it roars to life. Backing out of the parking spot, I head in the opposite direction of my home. I go somewhere that I know I shouldn’t. She isn’t bad for my sobriety, but she’s bad for me in general, though aren’t all women?
Just the mention of her name the other day has had me thinking about her. She’s an itch that I can’t seem to satisfactorily scratch. It always itches a little in the background, or at least that’s how it feels. Maybe it’s all a mind game though, I don’t doubt it.
Her small bungalow comes into view and I immediately pull up to the curb. Grabbing a ballcap from my glovebox, I tug it on and down, covering as much of myself as possible. Keeping my aviator sunglasses on, I exit the car and dip my chin as I walk up to the front door.
Lifting my hand, I don’t even have to knock. She opens the door with a small smile playing on her lips.
“I didn’t expect to see you darken my door today,” she purrs.
I shrug one shoulder as I slip past her. She closes the door behind me as I tug off my hat and glasses, tossing them onto the side table next to her couch. Turning around, I look at her. I shouldn’t be here and she sure as shit shouldn’t have answered the door.
But I am.
She did.
Now she’s naked, standing in front of the closed and locked door. Taking a step toward her, closing the distance between us, I reach down, wrapping my hands around the backs of her thighs. Picking her up, I press her back against the door.
Her arms slide around my shoulders and her breath fans my face. “Beaumont,” she sighs.
Using one of my hands, I tug a condom out of my pocket as she reaches between us and begins to unbutton and unzip my jeans. We’re comfortable with one another, been doing this for years.
She shoves my jeans down as far as she can. Using my teeth, I rip the foil open, taking the condom out and tossing the packet on the floor somewhere. Sheathing my hard cock, I push the head against her waiting center.
I don’t even have to spit, lube, or touch her, she’s always ready. Her hands return to my shoulders, her nails digging in as I bury myself inside of her.
“Beaumont,” she breathes once I’m fully seated inside of her.
“Quiet, Andi,” I grind out.
We’ve been seen together often, we used to date casually, and we still fuck casually. What we don’t have is anything other than sex between us. Which is why I don’t want to pretend to have a serious relationship with her. We’ve never been more than casual.
Andi and I don’t have anything in common, except the need to get off, and often. It’s hard for two people to get what they need, physically, in the spotlight. Physical release is all we are to one another and I don’t plan on changing that with a fake relationship for the tabloids.
I pound into her as her back slams against the door with each thrust of my hips. I feel her body climbing closer toward its climax and grin when she lets out a long cry as her legs tighten around my waist. Planting myself deep inside of her, I come into the condom as I attempt to catch my breath.
“Fuck,” she pants.
I grunt, removing myself from her
grasp. Taking the condom off, I tie a knot in the end and pick up the trash from the floor before I tug my jeans back up. Turning my back to her, I dispose of the condom and wrapper in her half bath trashcan.
Once I’ve straightened myself, I wash my hands and walk back into the living room. Grabbing my hat and glasses off of the couch, I head toward the door where Andi is still standing, naked. Wrapping my hand around the side of her throat, I touch my lips to her temple.
“See you again, soon?” she breathes hopefully.
Shaking my head, my hand falls from her neck. “Going on tour for a while,” I murmur.
“Want me to join you at all?”
It wouldn’t be the first time she came in the middle of the night, made me come, then took off again before anyone was the wiser. I think about her offer for a moment, then about how Daniel wants us together, before I shake my head.
“Nah, I need to be alone for a while.”
She nods, licking her lips and taking a step to the side. “I hope your sobriety sticks, Beaumont,” she whispers.
“You doin’ okay?” I ask as I reach for the knob of the door.
She lifts a shoulder, the sadness that I see swimming in her eyes causes me to pause for a moment. Then, she puts on her fake smile, the one that makes her just as much of a fraud as it makes me.
I watch as she shakes her head from side-to-side a couple of times. “I’m perfectly fine, better now that I’ve come. I’ll see you around?”
Nodding, I open the door and walk away from her, knowing that I may see her around, but it won’t be like this. I need to change the bad habits in my life and one of them is fucking Andi, using her body whenever I see fit. It’s time to grow the fuck up.
Chapter Three
HUTTON
“You have fun with PawPaw?” Laurie asks bright and early Tuesday morning.
I grunt, reaching for the white chocolate mocha that she pushes toward me. I stayed up all night long bingeing the new season of Stranger Things on Netflix and my eyes ache. Lifting the cup to my lips, I take a long drink of the warm liquid as I nod.
“Blueberry pancakes and everything.” I grin.
Laurie narrows her eyes, and I can tell that she wants to ask me something, but she shakes her head as if she decides against it. The door chimes, I turn to see my first customer of the day and all thoughts of what Laurie wanted to say to me disappear.
We spend the rest of the day working. My salon is just that, mine. I even own the building. Baker’s Square is the salon that I’ve poured my sweat and tears into. Laurie is the only other hairstylist that rents a booth. It’s just the two of us, every single day and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Working with my best friend is just what I’ve always needed to soothe my soul.
The building is a small narrow space, just enough for two chairs and a washing station. I don’t like to brag, but Laurie and I are good, especially together. I excel at color and she excels at cuts. Where I lack, she helps and where she lacks, I help her. We’re not only best friends, we’re teammates.
“Did you hear about the secret concert that was just announced over in Gallup in two weeks?” my client, Sheryl, asks.
I frown as I trim the ends of her newly dyed and washed brown hair. Lifting my gaze to hers in the mirror, I shake my head.
“What’s going on?”
“Everyone is buzzing, simply buzzing, trying to figure out who is coming. Tickets are free, and only given out on a lottery system, but you don’t know who is going to be playing until the concert starts. It’s all a secret, I think it’s insane, I mean why Gallup?” she asks, wrinkling her nose.
I don’t share her sentiment. I like Gallup, it’s a cute little town and although there isn’t much there, it seems like a nice community. The concert thing sounds strange, but exciting too. I haven’t been to a live show and gone dancing in a long time.
After Beaumont left, Laurie dragged me out to a summer concert in a park and I spent the entire time crying. I decided to swear off live shows. But it’s been nine years since that complete breakdown, maybe I could try again?
Once I’m finished with my client, I ask Laurie what she wants for lunch at the diner across the street and then head that way. The entire time I walk down the sidewalk, to the crosswalk, and then across the street, toward the diner, all I can think about is this elusive concert.
I don’t know why I’ve become so enamored by it, so enchanted, but I want to go. I know that Laurie will be glad to accompany me, she’s a lot more social than I am anyway. I tend to stay home, read, and spend time with my grandpa.
Most of my family has labeled me as perfect and a loner. I don’t mind, except for the perfect part. I’m nowhere near perfect. A perfectionist, anal? Sure. But actually perfect, no way in hell.
“What can I do ya for, Hutton?” Marie asks as I step up to the counter.
“Two clubs, no mayo or any sauce on one, works on the other. Fries and a bag of chips with two Cokes,” I order distractedly.
“Sounds good, just take a seat. To-go, right?” she asks, although she doesn’t have to, I always order my food to go, always.
I start to sit when I hear my name being called. Turning around, I’m surprised to see Channing, my client from last week. She’s sitting in a booth with two gorgeous men. One is blond with tattoos covering his skin, the other has dark hair and a gorgeous thick beard.
She waves me over and my body jerks. My breathing picks up, I’m nervous, and I know that one of these men is her husband, but I don’t do well with handsome men, I become nervous, tongue-tied and stupid.
“Hey,” I whisper, tucking some of my hair behind my ear.
“This is my husband, Rylan and his cousin, Wyatt,” she introduces. Both men hold out their hands for me to shake.
My trembling hand slips in theirs and I whisper a very quiet hello to each of them. Rylan grins, giving me a wink. Wyatt smiles warmly and I just want to crawl into a hole and die.
“Did y’all hear about the secret concert?” I blurt, trying to come up with something to say so that I don’t just stand in front of them like a complete weirdo.
Rylan lifts his gaze to Wyatt’s and I watch as they share a knowing smile with one another, then they turn toward me.
“Yeah, we’re fixin’ to go, you?” Rylan asks.
I shrug a shoulder. “I don’t even know how to get tickets, but it just sounds so fun and I haven’t been to a show in forever,” I admit.
“You guys can get a couple extra tickets, can’t you?” Channing asks, her eyes widening as she looks between her husband and Wyatt.
Wyatt clears his throat, shaking his head once then turns toward me. “You really want to go?” he asks.
“Laurie, my co-worker, and I just found out about it this morning. But the town is just abuzz with the news.”
Wyatt nods then lifts his chin toward Rylan who clears his throat and turns toward me. “I got a couple of extra tickets, you want them, they’re yours,” he offers with a grin.
“Seriously?” I breathe. “Free cut and color next time you come in, Channing,” I offer.
She blinks then shakes her head. “I couldn’t…” Her words trail off, but Wyatt lifts his hand to stop her from continuing.
It’s weird and it makes me a little more nervous than I already am, which means my hands are now trembling because I’m a social mess.
“She’d love that, Hutton, thanks,” Wyatt smiles.
I blink. “How’d you know my name?” I breathe, since Channing didn’t say it, and neither did I.
Wyatt’s lips turn up into a grin. “I remember you from high school, babe.”
My foot takes a step back as I feel a blow of surprise slam against my chest. “You do?” I whisper.
Wyatt chuckles. “Pretty, shy, quiet. Yeah, I remember you…” His phone rings and I watch a different kind of smile, a warm one, cross his face. “My wife, I need to take this,” he says as he slips out of the booth.
“Anyway, please say you�
��ll take the tickets. We’re all going, it’ll be fun, you girls can hang with us,” Channing offers, bouncing slightly in her chair.
“Okay,” I agree without thinking about it.
“Yay,” she says, her smile widening. “I’ll call you, or come by, when it gets closer and set everything up?”
“Sure.” I nod just as Marie appears with my bag of food. I thank Marie and take another step back. “I’ll see you soon, and I’m serious about the free cut and color, or style for the show.”
She sits up a little higher. “Yes, how about me and Wyatt’s wife, Exeter, come by before the show and we can all get ready together? The guys can just meet us there?” She looks between me and Rylan and he smiles as if she’s the most adorable creature he’s ever seen in his entire life.
“Sounds good to me, sweetheart,” he murmurs.
“I’ll call you and set up the date and time,” she offers.
“Okay.” I smile, giving her a small wave.
I walk out of the diner, feeling weird, but good. Wyatt wasn’t wrong when he said I was shy, I am, extremely. My only bold thing that I’ve ever done, personally, was to let Beaumont in ten years ago and that did nothing but bite me in the ass.
This is different, this feels good. I’ve never been one to make friends easily, it’s really just been me and Laurie over the years. But I like Channing and I hope that we can be friends. She seems like a lot of fun. Maybe this is the beginning of widening my circle of friends.
BEAUMONT
The plane lands in the small Burnet airport. There is zero fanfare, the only person that I see on the tarmac is Louis. He’s leaning against his truck, his mirrored shades pointed in my direction. He looked like the mean badass motherfucker that he is.
Stepping down the plane’s small stairs, I make my way toward him. I don’t have any luggage. I don’t need any. My house has everything that I need already stocked, except food. Making my way toward Louis, I watch as he pushes off of the car as his lips turn up into a smirk.
“Brother,” he rumbles as he throws his arm around me and pats my back a couple of times.
FRAUD: An Unfit Hero Novel Page 3
