AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He smiles smugly. “Never done me wrong in the past. Might want to up the security as well, couldn’t hurt.” He shrugs like that’s the answer to all my problems. More cameras, alarms, and guards that only make me feel like I’m living in a prison instead of my home. Like I’m the one who has to change my life, not the fans that go too far.
“Can we just go get a drink and catch up with some old friends? I'll deal with this mess later.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He smirks playfully. “I have a few old friends in particular I want to get reacquainted with.”
He’s one of a kind and has me shaking my head, unable to help the smile he puts on my face. It's certainly entertaining to watch him at work. Maybe I should be more like him, adopt a carefree attitude to it all and just fuck my problems away. Ride the fame wave instead of trying to fight against the current all the time, which only leaves me drowning.
As we walk through the front doors to the Kimpton Hotel's ballroom, it feels like the room grows quiet, and all eyes land on us. “Maybe this was a mistake?” I mutter, not enjoying the attention as much as Devon who already has on a charming smile.
He pats me on the back. “Relax, bro, this is why you leave town and get superstar famous—so you can come back to your high school reunion and rub it all over the losers’ faces that were dicks to you back then. And enjoy some pussy that you weren’t cool enough for; not all of us were lucky pricks like you.”
Our reunion wasn't as high on my priority list as it was for Devon. I’m only here because it was scheduled with our manager six months ago, otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered. It’s also a chance to have a little time off and come home so I can catch up with my mom and little sister Izzie. I don’t get to see them enough with our busy schedule, and I know how much Mom wants me to be around for Izzie. She’s only seventeen and over the last few years has given Mom hell. I’m trying to be the male role model she needs since she has never had a dad around, but it’s hard when I’m not physically here.
I ignore the stares of onlookers and the uncomfortable way they make me feel and head straight for the bar, hoping alcohol will ease the pain in my head and solve some of my problems, at least for tonight. “Scotch, and make it a double,” I tell the kid in a suit, who doesn’t look old enough to be serving alcohol.
“Same, thanks, man,” says Devon, surveying the room like the predator he is.
My drink goes down nicely. I knock it back quickly, hoping liquor will settle my shitty mood after that terrible phone call.
“So, anyone you want to catch up with?” he asks. “Got a bit of unfinished business myself.” He eyes settle in with a leggy brunette who is making eyes in his direction. I have no clue who she is, but he seems to.
“Yeah, I bet you do,” I huff, glancing around the room. There is only one human I care about running into tonight. She often enters my thoughts late at night when no one else is around—and if I’m being honest with myself, the rest of the time as well. Little things trigger memories of her, making me wonder what could have been if I didn’t get signed all those years ago. If I stayed and we made something of what we started back in high school.
Walking away from her is my only regret. She was the perfect girl for me. Bubbly, smart, kind, and so fucking pretty. Every guy in school wanted her on their arm, but she was mine. Until we split up so I could move to LA and follow my dreams. We didn’t keep in touch like we promised. I got too busy, and she moved on with her life. Quickly, I might add. From what I’ve been told, she was married and knocked up within the year. I didn’t see that life for her. She was too ambitious, always sketching her latest designs in a notepad, with dreams of studying fashion.
From across the room, I spot her. She's talking to Brandon Lewis, a big-name NFL player who was also in our class. Honestly, I don't know how she wasn't the first thing I noticed when I walked in. She’s hard to miss in that sparkly number she has on. She looks glamorous, like a movie star. She was always the prettiest girl around, but the sight of her tonight takes my breath away, like the memory of her hasn’t done her justice at all. She’s smoking-hot, like insane. What, did she become a fitness instructor or something? Long legs and a tight little body. Now that I've seen her, I can’t pull my eyes away. Yeah, not too many regrets in my life but walking away from Amelia Harper is a fucking big one.
“What did you say?” asks Devon.
My eyes flick back to him, confused, wondering how long I’ve been staring at Amelia. “I didn’t say anything,” I mutter. Dev and I are as close as family. We have been best friends since junior high and inseparable since we started the band, and normally his positive attitude toward life is one of the things I like about him, but tonight, he’s getting on my nerves. Maybe because he’s so comfortable in social situations like this, and I’m a fish out of water, just wanting to find a dark corner to hide in.
“Yeah, I know, you haven’t said a thing, because you’ve been staring at Millie since you spotted her. Bet you’re hard as a rock in those fucking skinny jeans of yours. Wouldn’t think it was possible, but she got hotter. Didn’t she?” He ogles her in a way I don’t appreciate.
I give him a take-your-fucking-eyes-off-her look. When it comes to her, my overprotective instincts kick in, even after all this time. Back in school, she needed someone to look out for her, what with all the unwarranted attention she used to get. I was that for her, and everything else. She got me like no one ever had before, and I needed to be around her like I needed air in my lungs. I wasn’t the only one who felt that way about her. She was always popular with the other girls and boys. But unlike other popular girls, she was sweet as well, worried about those around her, the less popular creative types, like myself. I wasn’t one of the jocks that had girls dripping off their arms. No girls would look twice at me back then, except Millie. Image wasn’t everything to her; it was more important to be kind. She noticed the small things, and it made her irresistible.
“Why don’t you worry more about whatyourcock’s doing and less about mine?” I snap.
He laughs like he was trying to rile me up and he just won. “Don’t fret, I have mine all taken care of. See you later, bro.” He slaps me on the back and takes off across the room after the smiling brunette.
That leaves me standing awkwardly alone, and apparently, that is an open invitation for a swarm of women I don’t recognize or care to communicate with to approach me. My palms turn sweaty instantly. This is my actual worst nightmare. I’m sure I have had multiple bad dreams just like this, surrounded and unable to breathe or wake myself up. But I plaster on my fakest smile and play the part I have learned so well—charismatic frontman for the 4 Smoking Coyotes—because at this point, what other choice do I have?
AMELIA
All eyes in the room shoot toward the door, and I know in my gut without even having to look, it’s because he’s here. Our class’s very own big-time celebrity in the flesh. Sure, there are other super successful people in this room already. Jimmy made it big creating some app, and one of the girls I used to take home economics class with is a celebrity chef with her own Netflix show, and Brandon is a huge football star, but they’re not as big a deal as he is. Performing all around the world with millions of fans screaming his name.
Slowly I sip my champagne, trying to calm the twisting inside my stomach. I shouldn’t feel so uneasy to see him. There was a time when I was closer to him than anyone in my world, when he knew everything there was to know about me. We dated for two years before his band was discovered and signed to a record label. And before that, I can’t remember a time he wasn’t in my life as one of my closest friends. But that all feels like a lifetime ago. I’m an entirely different person now, and from the looks of it, so is he. He’s the epitome of rock god I would have expected to see. Dark button-up rolled at the sleeves so the ink covering his forearms is displayed. Skinny jeans ripped at the knee. Hair tousled in that messy just-fucked way where the extra length in the front hangs over to the side. Unshaven jawline that just makes me want to run my fingers over it. He is perfectly imperfect and has the attention of every girl we went to school with as they hover around him, not even letting him in farther than the bar. “Rude if you ask me,” I mutter.
“What is?” Brandon asks, looking at me, confused. He’s my date for tonight and had been filling me in on his new job working with the Jets NFL team in New York as a trainer. I’m lucky he offered to keep me company so I didn’t have to be the divorcee here all alone. Since I’m the one still living in my hometown, I should have a handful of friends to hang out with, but getting pregnant just out of school and getting married so young ruined most of those friendships. The other girls were off having fun attending college and partying while I was changing diapers and taking care of my husband, because according to him, that was my role as his wife.
We found a small group of people who were mostly interested in Brandon’s football career and were celebrating him bringing new life into the high school football team last year when he had a short stint as the coach. I’m okay with that. At least I haven’t had to explain the whole divorced-at-twenty-eight thing like I had feared I might.
I motion to the carrying-on that is taking place around Heath. “Let the poor guy walk through the door already,” I grumble, feeling sorry for him, and if I’m being honest, a little jealous that it’s not me standing so close to him. I have one job for tonight, and I’m not even going to be able to get close to him if this continues.
A slow smile creeps over Brandon’s face. He drops his head closer so only I can hear him. “Yeah, and straight to the one who has pined for him since he left.” His accusatory raised brow is way too smug, and I glare back at him.
We’re pretty close these days. As well as being part of my family now, he is also a silent business partner of mine and is always a sounding board for me when I need it. I guess so much so that he thinks he can call me out on my bullshit. But it’s not desire that has me looking Heath’s way, it’s panic. He’s actually in the same town as me, and that means I can talk to him now. And I have to. I just don’t know how to do it.
“I didn’t pine over anyone. I was in another relationship within the month. Don’t think you can call that pining. Do you?” I bite back at him, polishing off my drink, hoping it will settle the nausea swishing around in my tummy like a spin cycle in a washing machine. There is not one person in this room tonight who would want to trade places with me right now, I know that for a fact.
