Breach of Contract: A Rocker Romance (The Nashvegas Series Book 2)

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Breach of Contract: A Rocker Romance (The Nashvegas Series Book 2) Page 6

by Laramie Briscoe


  “Who cares? It’ll be hilarious and we’ll have a good time.”

  Taking a drink of my water, I toss the idea around in my head, trying to remember myself as a little kid who looked so far up to Harmony Stewart. Truth be told, I’ve modeled my career after her, wanted to be the person she was for me, for the little girls of my generation. Once upon a time, I had actually dressed up as Harmony. “Okay.” I give him a grin. “Let’s do it. Do we want to do a certain era, or what?”

  “When they first started dating,” he answers immediately. “They were close to our ages, and I think it’ll trip them out.”

  “Send me your favorite pic of them, and we’ll make it happen.”

  “Yes!” He pumps his arm in exuberance. “We need to make a damn list of what we need to do. You’re cool with having a party here, right?”

  Everett is so excited I can’t say no, even if I weren’t sure about it. We haven’t hosted a party yet together, either, and I have to say I’m looking forward to it. Doing all the things most couples spend their dating months learning about one another. We haven’t had that chance. Now we do, and I don’t plan on letting it go. I promise myself I’ll hold on tightly to these moments. They’re something I’ll never be able to get back, memories I’ll keep forever.

  “I’m good with it. I have to run downtown and do a fitting for the upcoming award shows, and for the New Year’s Eve we’re hosting.”

  “I’m so excited for it.” He rubs his hands together. “Doesn’t matter that the record company is trying to silence us, babe. We got this.”

  “You sound like your dad.”

  He grins, his dimples popping in his cheeks. “Best compliment ever.”

  Glancing at my phone, I see what time it is. “Oops, I need to leave in the next twenty minutes. Are you going to work out?”

  “Yeah, I’m meeting RJ for CrossFit. I’m heading out here in a few minutes.”

  Getting up, I walk around the table before putting my arms around his neck, hugging him from behind. “I’ll see you later, then?”

  “Love you.” He tips his head back so that our lips can meet.

  “Love you too,” I answer.

  “I hate Nashville traffic,” I groan as I navigate the stop and go of I-24 at eleven in the morning on a Tuesday. In all the places I’ve gone, been, and driven in, I hate Nashville the worst.

  Someone cuts me off, and I struggle not to honk the horn and flip them off over the dash. EJ tells me I’ll be killed in a road rage incident. I argue it’s not good to hold this shit inside.

  But that’s really the biggest problem I’m having right now. I’ve been holding a ton in. Not even having to do with what’s happening right this minute. I’m beginning to see how I let the record company bully me into doing what they wanted me to. How I’ve previously let my family allow me to take on the responsibility that should never have been mine. I’m getting angry, really angry.

  Isn’t that one of the stages of grief?

  It’s like a part of me has died, and there’s no getting it back. The naive girl I once was, even if only for a few minutes, is gone. The woman in her place has learned there’s not many she can trust. Fewer she can allow herself to love.

  Keep left at the fork following the signs for Ellington Parkway and then take the Cleveland St. exit.

  Thank God for GPS. It lets me get where I need to be, even when my head is spinning in a hundred different directions. As I drive deeper into the city, I see the sign for the stylists’ office I’m supposed to be at. Parking is a nightmare, like always. But my phone rings as I make a lap around the block.

  “Hello?”

  “Bri, this is Kristen.”

  “The stylist?” Her name rings a bell.

  “Yes,” she answers, a smile in her voice. “I see you looking for parking. When you turn left at the light to make another round, there’s an alley in between the building behind us and us. There’s a private lot. I’ve sent out one of the assistants to flag you down.”

  “Oh, thank you so much. You don’t know how much I appreciate this!”

  “Trust me, if we didn’t have this lot, we’d never be able to get to work. See you in a few.”

  Disconnecting the call, I watch for the person who should be flagging me down. When I see him, I give him a wave, and then pull into where he’s pointing to. “I never would’ve found this place on my own.” I smile as I get out.

  “Don’t mention it.” He smiles back. “Someone had to flag me down my first day too.”

  We’re laughing as he directs me to the entrance. “Kristen’s right in here.” He opens the door politely.

  As I round the corner, I see one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever laid eyes on. She has red hair, green eyes, and skin most of us in this industry would die for. Her hand rests on a burgeoning bump. On someone her size, I can’t tell if she’s at the beginning or end of her pregnancy. It’s small, but so is she. “Hello.” I hold out my hand to her. “I’m Bri.”

  “Kristen, it’s so nice to meet you. Hannah’s told me a lot about you.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  I didn’t realize she knows my mother-in-law, but if Hannah gave the seal of approval, then so do I. She’s not steered me wrong, at least not yet.

  “Yeah, she and I’ve known each other a long time. EJ and I went to high school together, and we dated for a short time. We were each other’s prom dates.”

  A record scratches in the distance, and I wonder if this is some trick being played on me. It’s at this moment, I’m unsure if I like this chick or not.

  Chapter Eleven

  Bri

  They were each other’s prom dates. I don’t understand why it gives me pause. If there’s anything I know, it’s that Everett loves me beyond measure. At the same time, this is someone else who felt his lips, tasted the flavor that’s undeniably his.

  The first time I’ve had to deal with it, although realistically there are at least a few more of those hanging around. We both had lives before we met one another.

  “I see the look on your face.” She grins. “There was absolutely nothing emotional between EJ and I. I let him get to second base because of who his parents are,” she pushes her long hair behind her ears. “Not proud of that, but teenagers do stupid things.”

  Of all people, I know that.

  Taking a deep breath, I shake myself out of the funk I’ve allowed to overtake my body.

  “Thanks for helping me out,” I give her a grin. “You’re the first person I’ve ever met who knows EJ the way I do, and it hit me the wrong way.”

  “Trust me girl, I see the way he looks at you in every picture, I absolutely do not know him the same way you do.”

  My cheeks heat, a silly smile overtaking my face. “Let’s get started.”

  “Yes, I’m so excited.” She turns away from me, leading us over to a table she’s set up.

  In my experience so far, I’ve met with numerous stylists. She’s the first one whose ever given me a table of options, and I like what I’m looking at.

  “I’ve done some research on the clothes you’ve worn before. It’s obvious when you’re comfortable and the same when you’re not. I think I’ve pulled together a bunch of pieces you might like. If I’m on the wrong path, please let me know. We can do a one-eighty real quick.”

  “I can’t wait to get a good look at all of this.”

  She rubs her hands together. “Okay, so this is the first one I wanna show you. Since you married EJ, and even a little before, your style has been slightly edgy. I’d love to lean into it a little heavier. This dress is for the first of the award shows you’ll be attending,” she reaches into a rack of clothing, grabbing out a dress. “This is a m’fing show stopper.”

  When she unzips the white fabric encasing it, I whistle through my teeth. It’s black, leather, with metal accents. There’s a slit up the side, and when she turns it around, there’s not much to it at all. But I can’t deny I love it. Every single inch of it. “C
an I try it on?”

  “Yes! I wanna see what you look like in it so much. I’ve been dying since I had them pull it off the rack for me at the New York fashion shows. I just knew I would find the right person for it, and here you are.”

  “Where can I try it on?”

  “There’s a dressing room right over there.” She points to the left. “Take your time.”

  Grabbing up the dress, I almost make a mad dash. I’m that excited to see how this looks. In my previous life, I wasn’t given a chance to decide what I wanted to wear. That was my record company’s doing. Now? Now they don’t care about us, so I could give a fuck about them.

  Closing the door, I hang the dress up and go about taking my clothes off. Luckily I was prepared for anything that might be happening today. Reaching into my bag, I dig out my pasties, and step into the dress, adjusting everything along the way.

  Looking at myself in the mirror, I have to admit I’m feeling confident. Turning around, I glance over my shoulder, taking note of how low-cut it is. The top of my panties are showing. Palming my phone, I take a quick picture in the mirror, before sending it to Everett.

  B: Yes or no?

  E: Only if I’m there with you babe, you look hot as fuck.

  B: You’ll definitely be there with me. It’s for the first award show of the season.

  E: If you feel good in it, then go for it. You look like a dime piece.

  B: LOL! I love you.

  E: Love you too. If I get done in time, I’ll come on down to where you are and hang out if that’s cool?

  B: Sure. Why didn’t you tell me your prom date is the stylist?

  E: Gotta go, time for another round of CrossFit.

  B: Wuss!

  “I love this,” I shriek as I walk out of the dressing room. “I never would’ve picked it out for myself, but I can’t deny how great it looks.”

  “It does.” She walks around me. “We’ll set up a spray tan appointment a few days before the show, that way everything pops. I have some jewelry recommendations too.”

  I follow her back over to the table. “You even have makeup suggestions.” I’m amazed at how thorough she is.

  “I like to give my clients everything they might need. This is the first time we’re meeting, but this is how I work. I’d love to have you full time if that’s an option.”

  “It could be arranged.” I laugh.

  “Okay,” she flips through the makeup looks. “This is my favorite one.” She points to a darker look than I normally wear, but the way she’s got it looks hot. A hot, I definitely want to look.

  EJ

  “Are you sure we should interrupt her session?” RJ asks as we pull into the parking lot of the office Kristen uses.

  “Trust me, she’ll enjoy it. She loves seeing me.”

  “But maybe the two of you should spend more time apart. He rubs at his jaw, his knee bouncing in the passenger side.

  “What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?” I’m immediately on the defensive, trying to figure out what in the hell RJ’s going on about.

  “You’re so far up her ass, you can’t see straight.”

  “She’s my wife, and what the fuck’s wrong with you? Your bad mood’s only gotten worse as the day’s gone on.”

  “So now I have to explain to you why I’m in a bad mood?”

  Sighing, I turn to face him. “I’m not being nosey; I’m asking because I’m worried.”

  “Every time I have an issue in my life you’re going to assume I’m going right back to the hard stuff, right?”

  “Look.” It comes out with a bite I don’t normally use with my brother, but he’s starting to fucking piss me off. “Do what you want to do, but leave me and my wife outta it. If I wanna see her seven out of seven days, twenty hours out of twenty-four, that’s none of your goddamn business. Got it?”

  He holds up his hands in surrender. Doing what he always does, acts like I’m the one who flew off the deep end, when he forced me to the ledge.

  “No.” I shake my head. “You aren’t allowed to pretend like you’re the only one with a hard life here. You don’t wanna talk to me, fine, but don’t act like I don’t give a damn.”

  “Montgomery told me she’s not ready for us to try again, and it hurts more than I thought it would.”

  This isn’t going to be easy, but I have to say what’s on my mind. “Do you blame here, RJ? You put her through hell and now you want to go back to where you were.”

  “I don’t want to pick up where we left off, I’m willing to do the work, but she won’t let me.”

  “Then you respect her wishes, you bide your time until she’s ready,” I advise.

  He grins over at me. “Then I can spend all my time with her and never get sick of it?”

  I chuckle, throwing my phone at him. “Then y’all can fuck every day, and you’ll still want more.”

  He laughs along with me as the two of us exit my SUV, and I prepare to face my wife and my ex-girlfriend.

  Chapter Twelve

  EJ

  Entering the studio, I feel like I’m walking into another country. For the first time ever, I wonder why the hell I didn’t stop to take a shower, to change my clothes, and to make myself look nicer for Bri. Which is weird on its own, I’ve never wanted to be for anyone else, including me.

  Unlike when we’re at home, and our attention is always on one another, she doesn’t see me walk in. I’m not her primary focus, and since she’s not paying attention, it allows me to watch without her knowing.

  She stands in the middle of a bank of mirrors wearing a dark green gown, with long sleeves and a slit up her thigh. There’s something about the way she’s buttoned up on top, but allowing her leg and thigh to be shown. It’s the little bit of bad girl mixed with the good girl she appears to be in public. The bad one’s mine, and I love when she lets it go. It’s not very often, but when I can make her lose control, and get the part of herself she hides from everyone else? I’m the baddest motherfucker in the world.

  Kristen says something that causes a laugh to take over. She throws her head back, her throat moving up and down with the giggle. When she tilts it back up, she wipes tears from her eyes.

  “Ladies,” I announce, grinning when Bri’s eyes meet mine in the mirrors.

  “Took you longer to show up than I thought it would.” She raises a brow before turning around.

  “Give me a little bit of credit.” I walk over to where she stands. “Kristen.” I nod to her. “Good to see you, congratulations.” I move my gaze down to her stomach.

  “You told me that on social media.”

  “But we’re old friends and I’m allowed to tell you in person too. Is Jaden excited?”

  “You know him. She rolls her eyes. “He doesn’t get overly excited about anything, but he’s already got the nursery done.”

  Entwining my fingers with Bri’s, I whistle. “He’s the biggest procrastinator I know.”

  “Right? And we still have three months to go.”

  “So.” Bri gazes up at me. “I hear the two of you went to prom together, and I even saw a picture.”

  My face heats, like it always does when people mention shit I did when I was younger. “We did.” I lean down, kissing her on the cheek before I turn to Kristen. “You showed her the fuckin’ picture?”

  “I keep that thing in its own folder. It’s gotten me out of more than one jam.”

  “That’s wrong, dude. So wrong.”

  “But clever,” Bri adds. “How are you doing?” She asks RJ, who’s leaning against the wall, typing on his phone.

  “Beat his ass in the run, so my day is good.”

  “He didn’t,” I argue.

  “I did!”

  Turning back to the ladies, I let my eyes travel up and down the dress Bri wears. “Why don’t you tell me about this number?”

  “You like this?” She flirts unabashedly with me.

  “I do, otherwise I wouldn’t have asked.”

  “It’
s for the New Year’s Eve thing we’re hosting here in Nashville. It’s supposed to be chilly, hence the long sleeves. I only have one more I need to try on. For the Grammy’s. Other than that, I’m good to go. Then we can go get our Halloween costumes.”

  “Yes.” I make a motion with my arm.

  “What did you all decide on that?” RJ asks, suddenly wanting to be a part of the conversation.

  “We’re going as Mom and Dad.”

  “Are you really?” Kristen gasps. “Because you’ll never believe this, but I have the outfits they wore to the first awards show they went to together, here. It was in some of the trunks that were stashed in the back from the old owner.”

  “Are you shitting me? This is perfect.”

  “Yeah, let me go back and get them. RJ,” she yells. “I might need help if they’re too heavy for me.”

  He pushes himself off the wall, following. After the day we’ve had, I’m surprised he’s not giving her a hard time. But finally, Bri and I are alone. “You okay?”

  “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you’d dated her. All I heard from you and Hannah was what a good stylist she is, and blah blah blah.”

  “She is.” I gesture to what she’s wearing. “Kristen knows her shit. She’s very good at her job, which is why I wanted you to meet with her.”

  “But you still didn’t tell me that the two of you dated, I have a little bit of an issue with that.”

  “It’s a non-issue.” I widen my stance, folding my arms over my chest. “It was when we were in fucking high school, Bri. There’s no reason for you to be worried.”

  “I’m not worried, I just wonder how many other girls there are waiting on the sidelines.”

  Eyes narrow as I look at her. Conversations like this are never good between couples when they don’t come up organically. I’m trying to figure out how we even got here, but there’s a part of me that wants to dig at her too. Its who I am, and sometimes it can’t be turned off. “Do you really wanna know? How many I’ve dated or how many I’ve fucked?”

 

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