Rocked Senseless: A Stand-Alone Rock Star Romance, page 11
I take the cloth and wipe the tears and muck off my face. “No,” I sob, blowing my nose loudly in the washcloth. “Thanks for staying here. You didn’t have to.”
“Yes, I did.” Ana’s bright green eyes brim with compassion. “I was really worried about you last night. You seemed unhinged.”
I release a shuddering sigh. “I’ve never felt this betrayed before.” Another tear trickles down my cheek. My face screws up in pain. “He promised he was going to break up with her.”
“I know, honey. I know.” Ana squeezes my shoulder.
“It’s Logan.” I sag against her and sob. “How could Logan hurt me this badly? He’s my best friend . . . or at least, he was. I thought he cared about me.”
Ana lets out a long breath through her nose. “Well honey, I don’t mean to be blunt, but men are assholes. You know it, I know it. We both need to stop letting our hearts get involved like this. It only leads to trouble.”
I cling to Ana, a pang of guilt searing through my chest like a hot poker. At least I’ve never been abused the way Ana was by her last boyfriend. She used to use concealer to cover the bruises on her arms from where he would punch her, grab her, and swing her around like a doll. We don’t even speak that fucker’s name.
“Why do we have such bad luck with men, Ana?”
“I don’t know, but I hope it turns soon.” Ana kisses my temple. “Are you going to try to make up with him once this all blows over?”
My heart sinks into the abyss. I shake my head. “No. It’s one thing to choose her over me. It’s another to ban me from even seeing him outside of band practice.” I straighten my back, steeling myself. “My friendship with Logan is dead.”
A crisp autumn breeze fluttered the pages of my notebook. I watched guys in heavy padding and helmets run back and forth, pummeling each other over a leather ball. I’d never understood the hype around football, or really sports in general. I ran track and lifted weights to stay in shape, but it was more of a chore than a thrill.
The reason I’d come out to watch them was because I enjoyed people-watching as I wrote lyrics. Most song lyrics are about some agony or joy of the human experience. I’d felt a lot of agony: watching my father get arrested and dragged away from us forever, watching my mother fall into the darkness of depression, becoming her strength when I wasn’t very strong myself. I needed to find something that brought me joy. If I could find out what it was that gave people joy when they watched football, I thought, perhaps I could tap into that experience and find my own.
“You busy?”
I turned and saw Madison standing behind me. There were slight smudges of mascara on her cheeks from where it had run as she cried. I patted the bleachers next to me with anger and angst boiling up inside of me.
“Who hurt you?” I demanded with an edge in my voice.
Madison sighed and sat down horizontally, pulling her legs into her chest as she rested them on the bleachers. “I broke up with Gavin.”
I set my notebook to the side and turn to face her. “Why? What happened?”
Madison picked at a loose string on the seam of her jeans. She gazed out over the football field with her deep, sad, captivating blue eyes. I marvelled again at how beautiful my best friend was.
If only I could get up the nerve to tell her . . .
“He told me if I wanted to keep being his girlfriend, I would have to give up my dreams of being a rock star. He said he needed someone ‘serious’ and that being a musician is not a serious career.”
“What a jackass,” I growled. “What did you say?”
Madison smiled and held up her middle finger. “This, and a lot of other unrepeatable words. Suffice it to say, I told him to stick it where the sun don’t shine.”
I grinned at her. “That’s my Cricket.”
Madison chuckled, then her smile faded. She leaned forward and rested her chin on her knees. “Logan, do you think I’ll ever find a good guy who’s okay with me being a musician?”
Me, I replied mentally. Then I shook off the thought. If we were going to be in a band together, it probably wasn’t a good idea.
Then again, it could also be perfect.
“I think it’s going to be tough, but you’ll find the right guy.”
A soft sparkle entered her eyes. “You really think so? Because to be honest, I’d choose my music over any guy, any day. It’s who I am. That’s never going to change.”
“I think you’ll succeed at anything you set your mind to.”
Madison shifted her legs off the bench and wrapped both her arms around mine. Her warmth flooded my body and put every anxious thought to rest. “Thanks, Drummer Boy.”
I pulled my arm free and tugged her tightly into my chest. “I got your back, Cricket.” I smiled, wondering why I didn’t realize that I’d had my source of joy all along.
I stare blankly out the wide, clean window overlooking the city. This used to be my escape. I’d come sit stretched out on this bench with a notebook and start writing. Watching people mill around down below, going back and forth from their respective jobs, searching for something we’re all looking for deep down inside . . . it inspires me. Now all I can think about is the tremor in Madison’s voice when I fed her that load of horseshit over the phone with Celeste standing behind me, holding her own phone, poised to call her father.
I’m officially a pawn in this crazy bitch’s game, and I’ve never hated life more.
My mind turns and eddies like a river current. Is this what Madison would have wanted me to choose? I wrestled with the decision for hours, my soul in turmoil every second. The only reason I decided to let Celeste win was because of something Madison said to me long ago.
“I’d choose my music over any guy, any day.”
Any guy, she’d said. Last time I checked, that includes me.
I didn’t have the guts to test that theory.
I’m a coward, as always. Nothing has changed, and yet everything has. Not having her around is like trying to live without my right arm. I don’t even know how to function.
Celeste is off God knows where, probably fucking her little French model senseless. She’s completely fine, doesn’t even care about this breakup . . . probably because, in spite of gallivanting around the city with her new boyfriend, she’s trying to pretend this breakup never happened. I don’t understand people like her. No matter how much money or power I had, I’d never treat another human being this way. She’s purposely standing in the way of my happiness, and it doesn’t even affect her. She actually enjoys knowing she has me under her thumb.
My male pride is suffering hard, but I would never do anything to take away Madison’s dream. This was always more her dream than mine. I’ve always been the one who looked out for her, and I’ll be damned if any of that changes now.
The lock on the front door clicks. Celeste scurries into the penthouse in some kind of frenzy. She looks up from her cell phone and huffs at me.
“Logan, what the hell are you doing? I told you we have dinner with my family tonight.”
My eyes narrow and twitch as I glare at her, wishing I could blast her to smithereens with my gaze. “If you think I’m still going to that shitshow, you’re more fucked in the head than I thought.”
Now I regret teasing Madison by calling her “fucked in the head.” I had no idea what that phrase truly meant until I found out how much of a psycho Celeste is.
Celeste waves her phone, pressing her lips together in a self-satisfied smirk. “Well, alright then. I guess I’ll just have to call Daddy and tell him you broke up with his little girl.” She touches something on the screen and holds it up to her ear. I hear the phone ringing on the other end. She clicks her tongue in mock disappointment. “Damn, I wish I could be there to see the look on his face. He’ll be furious—”
“Fine! I’m coming,” I bark, pushing up from the bench. I trudge to the spare bedroom, which is now my room, and cross the plush area rug to the closet. I find my nicest collared shirt and slacks and peel off my t-shirt and jeans, groaning at the thought of what I’m about to have to sit through. Hopefully, Ivan will be there to talk to. If not, I might bite the bullet and tell Trevor myself, just to get it over with.
Maybe I should do that, anyway. I don’t feel like going to jail for murder, and at this rate, that’s likely to happen by next week.
“You fucking bitch. That was not part of our deal,” I seethe, shaking in my anger. “How could you?”
Celeste chuckles darkly, the diamond ring on her finger glittering in the LED lights coming from behind the window panels in the limo. “I just wanted to make this more fun, that’s all. Besides, did you see how happy Daddy was?”
“Happy about something that didn’t and will never happen,” I growl. Celeste shocked me shitless when she put on the ring under the table at dinner and showed it to everyone—Trevor, Alicia, Ivan, and his new girlfriend—and told them I had proposed to her last night. Everyone congratulated us and discussed wedding plans. I didn’t even know how to respond to their questions. The very idea that I would ever propose to Celeste is laughable, and now I’m caught in a ridiculous lie that I don’t know how to get out of.
Celeste holds out the ring, looking overly pleased with herself. “But the ring is so beautiful, and I got to pick it out myself.”
“But it’s a fake engagement, Celeste. Don’t you think they’ll be disappointed when we don’t actually get married?”
Celeste laughs. “Is that what you think?”
The chaos in my mind screeches to a halt.
Oh, no. Hell no.
A fake relationship, I was okay with. A fake engagement might have been doable. But a fake marriage? To this crazy cunt?
I’ve had enough.
I grab her wrist and shake it threateningly. “Take this damned thing off right now and tell them the truth.”
Celeste raises a perfectly arched eyebrow at me. “Or what?”
My teeth grind together. “I’ll tell them all of it—how you’re blackmailing me, how you cheated on me first, how you’ve been treating me all this time.”
Her eyes grow wide. I perceive a hint of fear behind them. “You wouldn’t do that.”
My lips twist upwards. I finally found her weak spot. “You wanna bet?”
Celeste jerks away, and I let her go. We ride in heavy silence until we reach the apartment complex. Hope rises in my chest. I may have finally found a way to get myself out of this mess.
The limo pulls up to the building, and we step out, still not talking to one another. I think I’ve won, until I hear a strangled gasp coming from behind us.
I turn around, and Madison is there, looking utterly grief-stricken. She must have come here to talk to me and seen what was on Celeste’s finger when we stepped out.
Fuck!
“Logan, is that . . . ” Madison swallows hard, looking down at Celeste’s ring.
Celeste grins widely and holds out her hand. “Isn’t it gorgeous? My Sugar Bear proposed! Don’t worry, we’ll find something for you to do at the wedding besides get drunk on champagne and fuck an usher in the bathroom.”
I clench my fists at my sides, reminding myself once again that Celeste is not worth going to jail for. “Mads, I can explain—”
“No need.” A darkness descends upon her features, one that chills me to my core. I’ve never seen that look before, and I don’t like it at all. “Congratulations. You two deserve each other.” She turns and rushes down the sidewalk, taking half of our soul with her.
I sit in my usual spot at the bar, nursing my whiskey on the rocks. The glint of the lights on the dance floor reflecting off my glass reminds me of the way the light of the sunset caught the prisms in Celeste’s ring. I was shocked when I saw it, not only because he proposed to her mere days after he impaled me with his cock, but also because of the size of the diamond. Logan bought her one hell of a rock. I know how much our tour brought in, and granted, it was a decent amount, but I had no clue he had that much money put away. He must have been saving for years.
It just proves once and for all that I was his final “mistake” before he settles down with her. I would laugh at my own stupidity if I had the ability to feel anything right now.
The God-awful pain I felt before has given way to utter nothingness. Seeing that ring opened a black hole in my chest. Nothing can escape. I feel soulless, and I plan to stay this way. It sure is a hell of a lot easier than dealing with a broken heart.
The only problem is it’s hard to write song lyrics when you can’t feel anything. I tried to write a song about Logan a few minutes ago. Nothing. I tried to write a song about feeling nothing. Being nothing. It was all for naught. It looks like I’m going on hiatus from being a songwriter until my heart starts working again.
It’s probably just as well. After my disastrous first tour, I don’t mind waiting a little while before the next one.
Ana has Slater. Dalton and Jay have each other and their club whores. Without Logan, I am completely and utterly alone.
I swill my whiskey, staring at the brown liquid as it swirls around the ice. A tear falls into the divot in one of my ice cubes. I cringe. This is pathetic. I need to get fucked up, and then everything will be better until the morning.
As I’m finishing the last bit of my drink, two pierced, tattooed hotties come up beside me with their arms around each other. They’re both males . . . though right now, I wouldn’t care even if they weren’t.
“You’re Madison Daley, right?” The taller one grins and looks me over.
I give him a demure smile. “Depends on who’s asking.”
“Just two fans who think you’re sex on legs and were wondering if you’ve ever had a threesome with a bi couple.” His grin widens as he looks sideways at his partner.
My asshole clenches. Getting fucked by two sexy men is just what I need to erase the memory of Logan’s cock inside me.
“I haven’t, but there’s a first time for everything.” I give them my sexiest, slowest smile as I slide off the bar stool. They immediately sandwich my body between theirs. The tall one leans down and connects his tasty lips with mine. These guys are hungry for a female body, but that doesn’t mean they’re afraid of the fruity, girly drinks. I’m definitely picking up notes of piña colada.
Logan’s face flashes into my mind. I push it away. That bastard doesn’t deserve to keep me from enjoying my life anymore.
The morning light slices across my rumpled bedspread. I groan, feeling sated and defiled all at once. Memories flood my mind as my bleary eyes scan my bedroom. There isn’t a single surface I haven’t fucked someone on now.
Last night, I had my first threesome. The experience was every bit as unhinged and eye-opening as I expected it to be. We used toys, they tied me up, we did double penetration . . . every fantasy I’ve ever had about having sex with two men came to life. They even fucked each other in front of me. The tall one penetrated the smaller one while I sucked his dick. We were all so loud, I was worried I’d get thrown out of my apartment.
Being with them was the most satisfying carnal experience of my life, but now that I’m awake, nothing has really changed. I still feel empty. Lost. Longing. It’s clear to me now: Logan is the only man I’ll ever want. If a night of unbridled pleasure with two incredibly sexy men isn’t enough to make me forget about him, nothing ever will.
C’est la vie, I suppose. I don’t deserve Logan, and Celeste deserves him even less, but no one ever goes for the person they deserve. Love isn’t that simple. If it was, we’d all be living our happily ever after.
I slump out of my filthy bed and pull the sheets off, placing them in a hamper, then I immediately go into the bathroom to take a shower. Even touching those sheets made me feel disgusting, like a traitor, even though I know he betrayed me first.
As I crank on the water and step into the tub, an aftershock of emotional pain sears through me.
Fuck. I guess getting over it that easily was too much to hope for.
Nothing masks emotional pain like self-destructive habits. I hate myself for doing it, but going back to the club is the only way I can forget until my heart is done bleeding out. This time, I might have to come home with three guys instead of two.
Whatever it takes to keep from falling down the rabbit hole.
As I’m patting myself down with a towel after my shower, I hear a harsh ringing sound coming from my bedroom. My clutch is going crazy with the ringtone I assigned to Dad’s contact.
I pull out my phone and frown. Dad never calls me. “Hey Dad, what’s up?”
“Hey baby girl,” Dad says in a heavy voice. Sheer dread washes over me. His tone is ominous. Whatever he’s calling about, it can’t be good.
“What’s going on? Is it Nana? Is she okay?”
Dad releases a long sigh. “Nana’s fine. It’s . . . it’s our neighbor, Mrs. Young. I hadn’t seen her outside in a couple of days, so I went over to check on her . . . ” Dad hesitates, clearing his throat. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry to tell you this, but Logan’s mom hung herself in her closet. She’s gone.”
My body stops working. My knees give out on me, and I fall down to the hardwood floor.
Logan’s mother, the only family he has, is gone. After a lifelong battle with depression, it finally got the best of her.
Screw relationship woes. My best friend needs me. I’ll fight Celeste myself if I have to, but I’ll be there for him, no matter what.
“I figured you should be the one to tell him, since he’s your best friend.”
I nod, tears welling up in my eyes. “I will. Thanks for letting me know, Dad.”
“I love you, baby girl.”
“I love you too.”
I hold the phone plastered to my ear as my heart turns to lava in my chest. When Madison called me, I was hoping for the chance to explain what she saw last night. I was so relieved to hear her voice on the phone.
