by R H Tucker
I nod, biting my lip. “Yeah. There is. When your brother is the King of Hearts, making girls scream their lungs out and throw their bras on stage? When your drummer is the King of Bad and makes girls crazy, and their parents hate him as much as old people hated Elvis for the way he danced? When your bassist is the Queen and makes guys from middle school to college fight over asking her out. Yeah, Jade … there’s everything wrong with being the nice one.”
16
Skye
I’ve never been to a celebrity party like this.
Yellow and green lights glow from somewhere in the ceiling. The main area of the ballroom is a wide-open living area, where a DJ is playing music and at least ten girls dressed in lingerie dance. The music echoes throughout the entire area, and it’s loud enough that you have to lean closer to the person you’re talking to just so they can hear you. On the opposite side of the room sits another bar where people are lounging, talking, and drinking, the bartenders darting back and forth, serving up drinks.
I’ve been to a few events with the girls, and of course, the other day was the first red carpet, premiere-type event I went to with EJ. But this party is the kind I’ve only read about in gossip magazines or seen on celebrity news TV shows. The kind you hear about megastars like P. Diddy or Leonardo DiCaprio holding. I’ve seen famous people that have been in huge summer blockbusters, models that have graced the covers of Sports Illustrated and Vogue, and reality stars from the past and new ones. I’m not starstruck, I’m just … okay, I’m a little starstruck. The Electrocutes are an up-and-coming band that has some fame, but these people are on another level. The level the Kings are on.
Waiting at the bar, no one pays me any attention. Some of these people are younger than me, a lot are older than me, but everyone is enjoying their time. I guess I can see why they’re at ease. They’re amongst their peers. They don’t have to worry about people trying to snap pictures or ambush them with questions about who they’re dating, what they’re doing next, or gain access to their private lives. That has to be appealing for people that are in the spotlight constantly.
I see EJ from across the room, who waves and makes his way back over to me. Stopping a few times, he hugs and says hi to people I only recognize from TV, then finally gets to me.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
Looking around, he nods but bites his lip. “Uh … yeah.” Pausing, his eyes meet mine, and he gives me a reluctant smile. “Jade knows.” My brows rise in surprise. “She could tell I was acting funny.”
His comment forces a giggle out of me. “Yeah, you’re not terribly great at lying.”
“Thanks. Oh, and thanks for not telling me I was singing when I was drunk.”
“Sorry.” I offer a cringing smile. “I just figured I’d keep that to myself. Since you know about that, would you like to know how your pants really came off?”
“I thought you said I spilled water on them.”
“That’s not exactly—”
My words are broken up by someone interrupting, slapping EJ on the back. “EJ, what’s up, man?”
Glancing over, I see EJ’s demeanor instantly shift. He side-eyes the guy. “Oh. Hey, Mitch.”
“Pretty sick-ass party, right? Who’s this?”
Mitch motions toward me. He looks like he’s in a rock band, but in a very cliché kind of way. EJ and his band, mine, we dress how we want to because we like it. It comes off like rock stars because we’re in a band already and don’t really care about dressing up.
Mitch looks like he’s trying to be in a band. Black skinny jeans, black and silver bracelets covering both wrists, and a faded light blue T-shirt with two crossing electric guitars and a skull hanging above them. His hair is similar to Maddox’s; dark black and hanging in front of his eyes. But Maddox’s hangs in front of his face because he doesn’t do anything with it and doesn’t have a hat on. Mitch’s is styled with some kind of product in it, and he has it brushed against his face so it covers one eye.
“Uh, Skye, this is Mitch. He’s in Skum Bucket.”
He eyes me up and down, and it makes me gag a little, but I hold it back. Extending his hand to me, I get the feeling like he’s about to hit on me right in front of EJ when he’s slapped on the back harder than how he slapped EJ.
“Hey!” Maddox calls out. “It’s Bret’s bitch— Oh, sorry. Mitch. What’s up, man?”
Mitch scowls at Maddox. “Not much. Thank your sister for the invite again, since I know your ass wouldn’t have invited us.”
“Yeah, no shit.” Maddox straightens up, eyeing him. “You know, I’m getting sick and tired of Bret and you guys trying to leech off of us. He’s always trying to get Jade to get someone to sign you guys. News flash, Mitch; if you suck, then you suck. My sister is not going to help your suck-ass band."
“Screw you!” Mitch pushes him. “If we suck so much, why’s your sister still with him? She knows we rock.”
Maddox pushes him back. “Because Jade doesn’t have it in her to tell him how much you guys blow. And even with me telling her to dump his ass, she likes him for him. She thinks he’s a good guy, no matter how much of a gold digger I tell her he is.”
“What’d you say?” Mitch yells at him, pushing him again. Maddox pushes back. “Say that again.”
“What? That you guys couldn’t win first places at a garage band karaoke contest? Sure, no problem.”
Maddox grabs his shirt, but right before they can throw a punch, EJ gets between them. “Come on, guys. Maddox, knock it off. He’s not worth it.”
“Shut up,” Mitch yells at EJ, pushing him into me.
“Watch it!” EJ yells back, recovering.
“Don’t mess with him!” Maddox calls out, getting in Mitch’s face, so they’re nose to nose.
Mitch scowls at him, then offers a smirking leer over his shoulder at EJ. “What? Your drummer fights all your battles for you, nice boy?”
EJ’s shoulders straighten, and he steps forward, tapping Maddox on the shoulder. “Maddox, it’s cool,” EJ whispers. Maddox eyes him carefully, then takes a step back.
“That’s what I thought. Little bitch,” Mitch hisses.
EJ stares at Maddox, and I see his jaw clench. There’s a slight nod from Maddox, but before I can even guess what it’s for, EJ swings around and decks Mitch across the face, dropping him to the ground.
“Oh!” Maddox shouts. “How’s that feel? Now who’s the little bitch?”
“What the hell?” someone shouts.
A guy dressed the same way as Mitch jumps from out of nowhere, onto Maddox. A massive brawl breaks out in front of me. Maddox is swinging his fists, EJ’s trying to kick at Mitch, who’s trying to kick back. The mystery guy gets to Mitch and hurries to help him up. They get to their knees, but Maddox slams a fist across the guy’s face, connecting against his nose. EJ attempts to get up, and Mitch gets back to his feet, wrapping his arms around EJ. Maddox rushes over, slamming his hands down over Mitch’s back, breaking his hold.
He spins around and hits Maddox in the stomach with a punch. EJ goes to grab his arm but gets an elbow to the face, and recoils, clutching his nose in pain. The mystery guy gets back to his feet, but before he can do anything, three large security guards dressed in the same kind of dark clothes hurry over. All three get between the fighters, breaking them up.
“You’re out of here!” one of the guards yells at Mitch. A second guard grabs his friend and starts pushing him to the side of the room.
“This is bullshit! He hit me!” Mitch yells.
The guard looks back at EJ, who’s now holding his bloody nose. Smirking, the guard shakes his head. “Yeah, whatever. You guys are done.”
Maddox glances at EJ and smirks. Either they don’t believe him, or they do, but it’s the Kings, so they aren’t going to get kicked out of the party. Mitch and his partner both protest, but only those near to them pay any attention. Everyone else continues to talk and enjoy the loud music throughout the room. EJ finally turns back to me,
and I see his nose dripping with blood. “Sorry,” he mumbles through the blood and his hand.
Now that the fight and apparent danger is over, my jaw drops. “EJ … you were a badass.”
He cringes. “I didn’t know being a badass hurt this much.”
“My man!” Maddox shouts, wrapping his arm around EJ’s shoulder. “I knew you had it in you, EJ. That was amazing!”
“I think my nose is broken.” EJ cringes, and Maddox turns him around, inspecting it.
“Naw, you’re cool. It’ll probably hurt for a few days, though.”
“Great.” EJ rolls his eyes. “I need to clean up. This sucks.”
Maddox starts to laugh, and I can’t help but do the same. Taking EJ’s hand, I motion for the door. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I’ll help you clean up.”
“Bow-chika-bow-wow,” Maddox calls out, and EJ shakes his head.
“Hey, don’t be jealous!” I say, laughing, playing along with Maddox’s joke.
“Naw, it’s cool.” He slaps EJ on the shoulder again. “My man.” Turning around, he takes off through the party. I see Jade at a distance, and I offer her a knowing smile. She smiles back.
“You ready to get out of here?” I ask EJ.
He nods, and we take off through the crowd.
17
EJ
I got in a fight.
Holy crap.
I got in a fight.
I’ve never been in a fight. I’ve never actually had a reason to, though I guess one could argue I didn’t have a reason to tonight either. But Mitch is a jackass. The band he’s in with Bret, Jade’s boyfriend—who Maddox hates—has been together for about a year. Bret got with Jade about a month or so after we started our world tour last year. At first, he was nice, at least, that’s what Jade told us. When we finally met him, all of us thought he was a douchebag. He’s okay as far as being a musician goes, but we think he’s only with her because he wants to get his band signed.
Jade isn’t stupid. I know she has some doubts about him but wants to believe he isn’t with her for his own gain because on some level she really does like him. Maddox told me one time Bret put on this big, showy display in front of their parents, and came off as a loving, doe-eyed boyfriend, doing and saying all the right things when he met them. The rest of us just look at him and his band as posers who only want fame.
“You want to go to my suite?” Skye asks while we wait in the elevator of our hotel.
“Sure.” I lift my shoulders.
I should feel confident. Maddox getting all giddy because of the fight. Skye telling me I’m a badass. But, in all honesty, I feel weird. At the moment, Mitch pissed me off, and I reacted. But I didn’t do it trying to be something I’m not. I did it so he would shut up.
“You okay?” Skye asks, giving me a concerned gaze.
Taking a deep breath, I turn my gaze to my feet. “Yeah. That guy is a dick, but I still feel weird for doing that.”
“Don’t.” Her confident response forces me to look at her. “He had it coming.” She grasps my hand and leans closer. “I know you didn’t do it to try and act like something you’re not, EJ. You stood up for yourself. That’s nothing to feel weird or embarrassed about.”
Her dark brown eyes meet mine, and I can’t break away from them. I have a damp towel pressed against my face that the bartender gave us on the way out. I’m sure I look disheveled and probably a little gross, but I don’t care. Because she’s gazing at me like she doesn’t either. She just sees me. This plan started out crazy, but it’s turned into something more. Something I don’t know if she’s thinking about, but I can’t stop from feeling. I lean a little closer to her to kiss her when the elevator dings.
We both move away from one another, and she lets go of my hand. “Come on, nice boy.” She laughs. If it was anyone else, I might get annoyed, but I can’t help but chuckle along. “Let’s clean you up.”
Following her into their suite, it dawns on me that I haven’t been to their room before. It looks like a standard suite in any other hotel—generic pictures on the walls, with a nice leather sofa off to the side in front of a big-screen TV.
“I know,” she calls over to me. Turning around, she waits by an open door. “It’s not a penthouse, but it’s cool.”
“The only reason we’re in the penthouse is that Peter negotiated it for us. He made it sound like a deal instead of multiple different rooms for us.”
She nods to the door. “This way.”
I follow her into the bathroom, where she grabs a hand towel and wets it. Wringing it out, she turns to me, and I throw the bloodied damp cloth into the sink. “Clean up a lot of bloody guys?” I joke.
“Guys? No. Girls? Well, let’s just say drummers must be drawn to fighting.”
“Roxy?”
She nods. “I love her, but she can have a temper. Especially when we were starting out. We got the catcalls and people booing us before, during, and after our shows. It’s calmed down a little since then, and we’ve gained some more exposure. Leah and I would try to calm her down, but when a drummer gets something in their head, I guess that’s it.” She chuckles, wiping the clean towel closer to my nose, making me cringe. “Sorry.”
“Me too. I’m sorry you guys go through that. I remember some of the looks and remarks Jade got when we first started. Some nights we literally had to hold Maddox back from attacking D-bags.”
“It’s okay. Comes with the territory, right?”
I shake my head. “It shouldn’t. I’ve heard you guys play. You’re amazing.” She smiles. “I mean, you can play, but … you’re amazing just in general.”
Stopping, she places her hands on my chest. Nibbling on her bottom lip, she lifts the towel back up, but I stop it, holding her hand.
I don’t know what these moments are. When we’re alone, we’re not trying to show people how in love she’s supposed to be, and I’m not working to prove how much of a bad boy I can be, so it shouldn’t be like this. Right? I shouldn’t feel this drawn to her, wanting her next to me or holding her closer, wanting to kiss her again. But I do.
Leaning closer, I slowly press my lips to hers. Her hands wrap around my neck, and the towel drops behind me. When she moves her lips a little harder against mine, that’s all it takes for me to pick her up, and she wraps her legs around my waist. Turning around, I set her on the counter in the bathroom, and she reaches for my shirt, pulling it off of me. Returning my lips to hers, my fingers run through her caramel-colored hair, kissing her deeper.
Her hands come up between us, resting against my chest. “Hold on,” she whispers.
Hoping off of the counter, she takes my hand and we leave the bathroom, walking into the room across from it. I pause in the doorway, and she takes another step closer to the bed in the middle of the room, letting my hand go. Turning to face me, she nervously gazes at me without saying anything.
My eyes bounce from her to the bed and back again. “Are you sure about this?” I ask, not caring that I’ve never done this before, or that this isn’t part of the plan for either of us.
Chewing on the inside of her lip, she looks down at the beige carpet. “I am if you are.”
I shouldn’t. I know I shouldn’t because we have a plan in place. A plan that’s actually performing better than either of us thought it might. If this happens, then what? Are we still sticking to the deal? Is this just us getting caught up in everything that’s happened tonight? Everything that’s happened since we’ve been together?
The questions disappear because the main thought running through my mind is that I want to kiss her again. I need her hands on me the way they were seconds ago. I take a step toward her, shutting the door behind me.
18
Skye
Everything jumped from one thing to another last night, and I don’t know where I stopped thinking about the deal, and I started thinking about what I wanted. The fight was crazy. Not so much because it was a fight, but because it was EJ. Then helping clean
him up, being close to him, the words he whispered.
I could’ve stopped it. When I stopped us before leading him into my room, I could’ve ended it. I thought about saying we shouldn’t do it or bringing up the plan we both agreed to. There were ways I could’ve stopped, but I didn’t. Because I didn’t want to. He’s lying on his side, asleep, with his arm wrapped over me. My fingers run up his arm, skimming over his tattoo, then roam high over his jaw and chin.
What did I do?
I’m not worried about what we did, I’m concerned about what I’ve done to myself. I was already starting to like him, but I was trying my best to keep those feelings in check. I was putting up a brick wall, making sure I played the “in-love girlfriend” while helping him smear dirt all over his nice guy image. But every time we got close, every time we kissed, those bricks just kept crumbling down. Last night, the wall was demolished.
He stirs next to me, and his eyes crack open. “Hey,” his scratchy voice whispers. Then he smiles.
“Hey.” I return the grin.
Those light sepia eyes of his soften, and he reaches up, brushing a strand a hair away from my face. I don’t know what we should say or do next. We need to at least talk about this and figure out what the next move is. If he felt anything like I did, would he think about calling the deal off? Could we try to be together, for reals?
“So …” My voice fades out. He keeps his eyes on mine. “About last night?”
A small chuckle comes out from him. “Yeah.”
I take a deep breath. I don’t know if he’ll bring it up, but I might as well. I’ve been the one who has initiated everything, and even if he could be thinking about it, I feel like I should bring it up. Before I can, his phone rings.
“Crap!” he hisses, reaching over the side of the bed for his phone in his pants. “What time is it? We’ve got a photoshoot at the Bellagio at eleven.”
