Melanie stomps her feet like a five-year-old at the same time Jenni brings out the big guns—her light blue puppy dog eyes. “You have to come. Emily will be there, and she'd love to see you again.” She stares up at me with her bottom lip dropped and her eyes begging. “Please…”
I shoot my eyes up to Nick, seeking his thoughts. He shrugs, leaving all the burden on my shoulders. I don’t need to seek Melanie’s opinion. I can feel her pleading eyes burning a hole in the side of my head.
“Are you sure it won’t cause any issues?” Nerves jangle on my vocal cords, making the country twang in my tone more noticeable.
When Jenni shakes her head, I pretend I can’t feel butterflies in my stomach. “Okay, but only for ten minutes.”
Melanie squeals so loud, my ears will ring for a week.
I can only hope that’s the worst thing that will occur tonight.
Chapter Three
Slater
“What’s taking them so long?”
Marcus’s eyes shift from the window of the stretch Hummer we’re sitting in to me. When he shrugs, curse words roll off my tongue like lyrics. We’ve been waiting for our bandmates for nearly an hour, and my patience is hanging on by a very thin thread.
Every concert series is kicked off the same way. We have an elaborate, all-expenses-paid afterparty at one of the hottest nightclubs in town. Roped-off VIP section, endless women, and unlimited booze. Usually, I veer toward the women. Tonight, my focus will be on the booze. I need to getherout of my fucking head. You’d think radio silence for two years would have clued my brain in to the fact that she’s enemy number one, but nope, one look at her pretty little face and tight-ass body, and my cock overruled all rational thinking. And don’t get me started on my head.
“Do they know we’re waiting for them?”
Marcus shrugs again. His dislike for tardiness is visible all over his face.
“Fuck it, I’ll go get them.”
Just as I’m about to slide out the open side door, Jenni slips inside. “Sorry,” she mumbles, noticing my glare. “I can’t just throw on jeans and show up. This takes time.”
When she runs her hand down her body, my eyes follow its descent. I still don’t understand why it took her an hour to get ready. She’s wearing a dress. Simple—you throw it over your head. Shoes would take, what, two minutes to put on? Her face isn’t even coated in makeup, so what the fuck has she been doing?
The truth smacks into me when my eyes drink in the pink hue on her neck. I’m about to give her thewhat for?when Nick enters the limousine. His smug smirk and damp-at-the-tips shaggy locks confirm what I suspected.
Marcus chokes on his drink when I growl, “Can you save your fucking for when we’re not waiting?”
Nick’s shit-eating grin brightens the flush on Jenni’s cheeks. When Emily and Noahfinallyarrive, I signal for the driver to go. With the delay, I could have walked to the venue by now.
When I step out of the limousine ten minutes later, I’m blinded by paparazzi lights. They’re so fucking bright, I can’t see two feet in front of me. I’m pretty much walking blind, praying I’m heading in the right direction. When the paps request that I lower my arm, I act ignorant. I like my vision, which means I have to shield my eyes.
Once we’re ushered inside the club by studio-assigned bodyguards, we’re swamped by fans and groupies. Do you know how to tell the difference between a fan and a groupie? Fans ask before touching. Groupies touch, grab, poke, and manhandle you as often as they want. Fans buy tickets to attend our shows. Groupies expect them for free. Well, not technically for free – they’re willing to do sexual favors for them. Either way, no money is exchanged for their ticket.
It’s the fans who make a band successful and the groupies who bring it crashing down. Does that mean I don’t take advantage of the groupies? Hell no. They’re part of the entertainment industry, and I take all the perks I can get—groupies included.
When our fame began to rocket, we hung out in the regular area of any nightclub we visited. Noah didn’t want us to appear self-entitled, but it soon became apparent we couldn’t move in the regular areas because we were overwhelmed by zealous fans. Now we have no choice but to sit in the VIP section. It’s not all bad. Our booze is free, and the VIP section always has the best views of the club.
Tonight’s VIP area is on the second floor. When you stand at the black iron balcony, you can see the entire dance floor below. Cue Ball is packed to the brim with partygoers being served by waiters in matching outfits: tight black shorts, tucked-in white blouses, and black top hats. Mercifully, the boys’ shorts are a longer than the girls’—not by much, but it could be worse.
A cute brunette smiles a blinding grin while serving me a whiskey off a silver tray. Because she’s bending over, her blouse dips, revealing her ample cleavage. When she notices my appreciative gawk, she flashes me a frisky wink before sauntering back to the bar. While nursing my beverage of choice, I pace to the balcony to watch a swarm of bodies dance in sync to the music blaring out of the speakers.
It doesn’t take me long to spot Nick amongst the crowd. He’s a Fred Astaire prodigy—always fucking dancing. I don’t mind getting on the dance floor, but I don’t dance like Nick does. A couple of years ago, he would’ve been juggling multiple dance partners. Now, he only has one: his fiancée, Jenni. I still keep my eye on him, though. One step out of line and the warning I delivered two years ago will be issued full force.
I tried to steer Jenni away from him. Some days, I still wish she had listened to me. She loves Nick, but associating with him brings a whole lot of trouble into play. The shit that happened with Megan is a prime example. Jenni is lucky to have a sturdy backbone, because that mess would usually bring down the strongest couple.
I’m often accused of being too protective of Jenni. I can’t help it. When we met four years ago, all I could see when I looked at her was my baby sister, Serena. Jenni has her big light blue eyes, strawberry blonde hair, and tiny facial features.
Nick’s interest in Jenni was as obvious as the sun shining in the sky; it fucking beamed out of him. Since there was no way in hell I’deverallow my sister to date a guy like him, I tried to keep Jenni away from him. I thought my ruse was working… until she announced she was pregnant with his baby. I was suspicious a few months before then, but by that stage, I’d met Kylie, and my interests were on more pressing matters.
Kylie and I met under pretty unique circumstances. At the time, I thought it was the right time, right place bullshit. Now I wish I had never pulled into that old country bar on the side of the highway. . .
