Hooked

by Nicole Howard

  “I understand.” I forced a weak smile. “Your future is important.” There was no point in arguing. Even if Ben went against his parents, it would never work. It would just cause problems in his life. He’d deal with enough shit at school just for being with me, he didn’t need it at home too.

  “I’m sorry Maggie. I really like you.”

  “It’s okay.” I choked back tears and fought the sudden need to scream and throw a tantrum like a two-year-old on steroids. It was then that I realized, no matter who I was underneath it all, the assumptions trumped it. When a guy like Ben, who was willing to push past the rumors and pressure from his friends, couldn’t make it work, it left little hope to find a guy that could. It would be impossible. Thank you, once again mother!

  I spent the remaining year and a half of school, watching Ben from a distance as he partnered up with a cute brunette. Occasionally, he would shoot me sad eyes, as I walked alone through the halls, but each one only hardened me further. Building a shield that I should have strengthened years ago.

  ***

  “Tim’s back on tour for a few weeks.” Ally explained on a Monday night when she called after I got home from work.

  “That sucks.” My job as her best friend was to take her side, although to be honest, she knew what he did for a living. Being a musician is how they paid the bills.

  “It is what it is. Unfortunately, it comes with the territory.” She sighed. “Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to come with me to a concert?” Tim wants me to fly out for a day or two to break up the time apart, but I don’t want to be there by myself while they’re working. Plus, it would be an amazing chance for us to spend time together.”

  A free Hazed concert, there was no way I would say no. “I’m game.”

  “Okay, perfect. I’ll send you the details once everything is booked.”

  A few minutes later, an email came through with the information needed to get to the Hazed concert on the weekend. I’d have to cancel a date, but so what? It was worth giving up the same old routine for something and someone a little more exciting.

  After another solo first-class flight, I joined Ally at the airport, and we went directly to the venue. The boys were already there, prepping for the show. We were staying the night and would be flying home the following day. Twenty-four hours in their world before returning to reality. I would make the best of it and the best of it, may or may not include a hot and heavy session with a drummer.

  Ally and I watched from the wings, a completely different experience from the first concert we went to. You can see more, looking in from the side. While I tried to take in the entire stage, my eyes kept drifting back to Justin. The first time, I didn’t take the time to appreciate his performance. His entire body was connected to the music, the sticks an extension of his arms. It was incredible and if I was hot for him before, I was an inferno after.

  When the last song finished, and the sweaty mess of guys exited the stage to take a quick breather before re-entering for their encores, Justin stood beside me. His breathing was heavy, taking me back to Ally’s kitchen more than a month earlier.

  “I’m in the room beside you, 712. I’ll be up there after two. Use this.” Justin pulled a key card from his pocket and placed it in my hand. His fingers were warm and slippery. We both knew I would be there.

  Chapter 4

  Spinning

  Justin

  Sweat dripped down my forehead, my forearms burned, but I didn’t stop. The sticks were gripped tightly in my palms, glued in place despite my slippery hands. My wet hair hung in front of my face, clumped into thick strands after the two straight hours of playing. Two hours and I was still riding the high, adrenalin carrying me through my last drum solo. My arms flew, harder, faster, on autopilot, pouring all of me into the music.

  Sure, there would be encores, five more songs before we left the stage for the night. But it was almost over. I could feel it. I dread it. Our last scheduled concert. The last one of our tour. Tim wanted time off, so Hazed was taking time off. Time off from performing anyway. We would be working on album number five, while Tim spent time with his family. But writing wasn’t my strong suit. Song writing wasn’t what I loved. Creating albums didn’t fulfill me the way being on stage did. Performing was the reason I was put on the Earth. I was meant to beat the shit out of my kit. Every single night.

  I lived for it. The hair, the persona, the clothes, the tattoos. Everything I had become, was for the stage. All for those few hours a couple of times a week when I got to be free on stage. Maybe I just liked to pound things. Pound skin was more like it. The skins of the drums, the skin of a woman. Hard, fast, and intense. My only speed.

  When the set finished, I would be lost. Lost until I found the right woman to pour whatever energy was left in me, and then I would crash. Come down from the high. It would be a while before we were back in the cycle. I would be on the search for a woman who could give as well as she could take. You would think it would be easy, to read how a woman would act beneath the sheets, but it had been years and I still had moments of complete shock when the outgoing, loud, crazy woman starfished across the bed, and the quiet, shy one left me blurry-eyed and sore for days.

  My shirt clung to my chest, drenched in cold sweat, but I didn’t care. I never did when I walked off the stage. Instead of changing, like Tim and Ian, I prowled. With hungry eyes, I scanned the incoming crowd of fans, those with backstage passes and even more importantly, those the guys let in just because. Those were the ones I was attracted to. Always.

  “I’m heading out.” I tossed my head toward the door. Most of the time, I would stay for an hour or two, talking to fans, signing autographs, being with the guys. Not tonight. Tonight, I was mourning the last date of a tour. Tim and Ian were used to it. It was my routine, my way to cope with knowing I would be bored for the next few weeks or months. My last hurrah.

  “See you in the morning.” Ian waved. Tim nodded his acceptance. Those two were my best friends, the closest thing to brothers I had. They knew everything about me and still supported me. We’d been through hell and back. They both had experienced heartbreak, with Ian going through the messiest of breakups, walking in on his high school sweetheart screwing their next-door neighbor the day he was planning to propose, and Tim being abandoned by Ally. Sure, they were together now, but he had been dealt one hard blow after another. Two years after leaving him, she dropped the bombshell that she’d been pregnant, and he had a daughter. It was a wonder Hazed was still standing.

  Without a jacket, wearing my stage clothes, I made my way to the exit, keeping my eyes peeled with each step. I found her about twenty feet from the door, just in time. Brunette, tall even without the four-inch heels, barely covered in a tight red dress, her eyes heavily charcoaled and lips painted deep purple. She knew what was happening before I said a word. Reaching out my hand, she took it, following me out the door.

  She was all over me in the backseat of the blacked-out SUV, her hands, her mouth, her body, but I felt nothing. I kissed her anyway, doing my best to force some sort of connection. She was hot and willing. I was cooling down, my energy levels dropping lower and lower. I needed the release and would be damned if I didn’t get it.

  Stripping her down in the hotel room, I waited for my body to respond. Her body was flawless. The perfect pin-up, eliciting a bare minimum reaction from my traitorous body. Enough to get the job done but leaving me far from spent. And it wasn’t her fault. It was mine, because as much as it should have worked, as much as she should have left me drained and sated, she didn’t. But I knew who would have. A girl who wouldn’t have disappointed. Someone my body wouldn’t have resisted. It pissed me off more than anything that at the moment when I needed the release the most, the only woman my stupid body wanted was Maggie.

  ***

  Two months into writing the new album in Tim’s basement, we had three decent songs complete. The worst progress we had ever made. While, I wouldn’t place blame, or own it, ou
r problem was clear. Not a single one of us was focused. Tim’s head was upstairs with his family, and the baby he had put inside of his girlfriend. Ian’s head was on Sarah and their budding relationship, and my head was fucked up on the fact that I hadn’t had a decent hook-up since Maggie. Not for lack of trying – I’d gone on the hunt a few times, but always ended up alone at the end of the night.

  But like any addiction, I needed to feed the beast with what it craved. Maggie. Only, how the hell did I get a dose of her without showing my cards? Without asking and risking rejection. That wasn’t me. That wasn’t Maggie. We weren’t the type of people who asked and we sure as hell weren’t the type of people to say ‘yes’ when asked.

  Like a junkie, looking for their next high, filled with desperation, I found a way to get what I wanted. Without being the one to buy the goods. Instead, I manipulated Ally, striking up conversation after conversation about her life back in Texas, guiding the conversation to her friends. I brought up how much she must miss them and asked how long it’d been since she last saw them. The next thing I knew, without ever once mentioning Maggie by name, I had managed to persuade Ally to fly Maggie out for a visit, and the cherry on top – the best part was that Maggie had no idea I was waiting for her. Let alone that my aching balls were all but crying out for her.

  It was worth the guilt from scheming when Maggie walked into the kitchen with Ally and found Ian and I seated at the table. Her eyes widened for a second, before she put her mask back on, hiding her reaction. But I saw it and picked up on her dilated pupils. Those she couldn’t hide. The flush in her cheeks, told me all I needed to know. Unlike the last time she was here, the minute I could grab her, I would. No matter how hard it was to sit still with my dick hardening under the table, trying to control my raging hormones. I waited. I ate the food in front of me without tasting it, while Maggie and Tim took her things upstairs to the spare room that she would be sleeping.

  I played with Kenzie while she had a coffee with Ally and chatted about her flight, life, and other things that weren’t of any real importance. The only thing on my mind was getting inside of her. It wasn’t until the lights were out and everyone was tucked in bed that I got my chance, sneaking up the two flights of stairs as quietly as my two-hundred-pound body would allow.

  Maggie was sitting on the edge of the bed, reading something on her phone when I cracked open the door. She showed no signs of surprise to find me standing in her doorway. She stood without a word and pushed past me, tiptoeing down the stairs and to the front door. With the quick press of six keys, she disarmed the alarm and pushed open the front door. I followed, like the sex-starved fool that I was.

  I followed until we were in the backyard before acting, dragging her into the wooded area of the backyard. Pushing Maggie against the tree, I worked the shorts she was wearing down her legs and latched my lips to hers, swallowing her moans as my fingers pumped in and out of her. Maggie slipped her hand into the pocket of my jeans and pulled out the condom she knew would be there, tearing open the package without looking. Showing me exactly why she was the one I’d been craving.

  I broke away from her long enough to undo my pants and watch her fingers work the latex over my rock-hard shaft. She lifted her leg and wrapped it around my hip, using the tree to angle her body against me so I barely had to thrust before I was inside of her. Her red hair was a tangled mess against the tree bark, her eyes were wide and bright, her lips were full and swollen. Watching her fall apart because of me, was the high I had been desiring. After weeks of searching, I was finally sated. I lowered her gasping body down from the tree and placed a final, soft kiss on her lips, thanking her for the gift she gave without knowing.

  When I woke in the morning, I was the most rested I had been in weeks and ready to write killer songs regardless of whether or not I was any good at it.

  ***

  The more time that passed between our last tour date and reality, the more stir crazy I became. On top of being in withdrawal from playing, I was in the middle of a sex drought. Being thrown into our new schedule had messed with my ‘mojo.’ The whole thing was driving me insane. No matter how much I tried to sympathize, I couldn’t. Performing was our job. Our career. We worked hard to build the band and our following, and it was as if Tim was ready to just throw it away. Ian wasn’t much better. Somewhere along the line, he fell hard for Sarah. Useless, pussy-whipped men.

  While my boys were busy being selfish assholes, I was all but forgotten. Cast aside like yesterday’s news. My whereabouts were dictated by Tim. When it was convenient for him, I shacked up in his basement, an intruder to his perfect fucking life with Ally and Kenzie, and the third wheel to Ian and Sarah. When it wasn’t, I was left to my own devices in the condo that my money had bought, but I never stayed in. For so many years, I’d rarely been alone. Someone was always babysitting me, making sure I wasn’t screwing around too much. Even when Tim had a goddamn drug problem, I was still the one they were concerned about. But after they had moved on with their lives, I wasn’t a priority anymore.

  My inner child was begging to throw a tantrum of epic proportions. It wouldn’t take much to leave a trail of devastation after a weeklong binge of booze and women. The social media coverage alone would be enough to get their attention. My own over-the-top version of kicking and screaming. But I couldn’t. Because no matter how angry I was that they were abandoning Hazed, I balanced on the fine line between sex symbol and dirty playboy. The band’s image meant too much to me to fall over the edge. It wouldn’t solve the problem that being alone wasn’t something I could deal with.

  I guess that’s what caused me to cave and text Maggie, offering to fly her out for a few days. An expensive booty call, but worth every penny just to have someone I could trust around for a few days. Instead of waiting for her response, I locked myself in my gym for two hours and worked myself into exhaustion, only checking for her response before crashing in my bed. I’d buy her ticket first thing in the morning.

  Regret hit hard five seconds after I called our assistant to book her ticket. What the hell was I thinking? Inviting Maggie directly into my life. Out there, at Tim’s, on the tour, it was just part of the game. Part of the lifestyle. While we both knew why she was there, it was safe and distant. But in my condo, we were crossing a line. One I never planned on crossing. I spent the time waiting for her to arrive coming up with a plan of how to play out the next three days.

  Maggie burst through the door the second I unlatched the lock, tugging her suitcase behind her. Her red hair whipped around as she stood the suitcase upright and turned her attention on me.

  “I am only here for the sex.” She blurted, beating me to the punch. “Just so we are clear on this. I’m here for your hands, lips, and dick. And you’re chest and maybe the tattoos. Fuck, the hair too. But you know what I mean.”

  I laughed at her outburst, stoked we were on the same page. “Good, cause I only invited you for your tits and two sets of lips. And maybe your ass.” I continued to laugh as I pulled her into me, preventing her from running her mouth any further by sealing mine over it.

  I had her stripped and pushed up against the door within minutes and was wrapped and inside of her, ten seconds later. The relief of contact both sexual and emotional, washed over me. The loneliness faded away with each thrust, leaving my regret with the puddle of sweat dripping from our bodies.

  The first condo visit was pure bliss. Three days spent naked, with the exception of the few times Maggie answered the door for takeout. We spent little to no time talking about anything personal. Maggie preferred to keep things as superficial as possible. As much as I hated to admit it, Ian had been right. She was essentially my female equal. Leaving nothing to misinterpretation and never giving more than the bare minimum anywhere outside of the bedroom, or any of the other surfaces we fucked on or against.

  ***

  Despite every piece of information, every image that was out in the world, available for public consumption, I had ne
ver planned to be a player. I’d never admit to it out loud, but it didn’t start out this way. Really, nothing in my life ever started down the path I’m on. Every twist and turn that my life took, was purely luck and chance.

  The Rockstar lifestyle came at me while I was just getting started, thanks to the one favor Cam has asked me for. Overnight, it seemed my life had changed. The weekend gig as a drummer became a regular occurrence and it wasn’t long before I ditched my job behind the grill, working my way through high school behind the drumkit. With me behind the drums, the guys had been able to land a few new venues. The more places we played, the more recognized we were, and the higher the demand became.

  Our first time on the road, traveling for a gig, was nerve-racking. The fact that a club, three hours from home, was willing to pay for us to play on a Saturday night was overwhelming, but an opportunity none of us were willing to pass up. Even if we were in over our heads.

  After our set, I joined the rest of the band at the bar, ordering my usual, water on the rocks. The guys had their bottles of beer. Most of the time, I would hang around for fifteen to twenty minutes, long enough to cool down, before packing up the equipment and heading home for the night. It saved me from sitting around while girls milled around the frontmen, leaving me as the perpetual extra-wheel.

  While I had swapped out the glasses for contacts and started styling my mess of hair, I remained in the shadows, where I belonged. I had just turned eighteen, younger than most of the women hanging around the stage. But being out of town, I had complete anonymity and a newfound level of confidence. Before my usual fifteen minutes had passed, a drop-dead gorgeous blonde had sidled up to me.