Cadence (Ruby Riot Book 1) (23 page)

“Yes, Miss!” Will stands and strides to the door.

We head after Riley and I lean against the wall in the quiet hallway, arms crossed. Riley continues to look as if her dog died. “We had a complaint from the make-up girl. Who groped her ass?”

Will giggles. “Will did.” He points at Nate.

I groan inwardly, here we go.

“I did not!” protests Nate.

Nate's refusal to deny he's Will illustrates the insane direction this evening is heading.

“Somebody did!” says Riley.

I hold my hands up. “Nope. Not me.”

“Wait, what? Groped whose ass?” asks Will.

“The chick with the brushes and the brown crap she put on your face.” Nate rubs his brother's cheeks.

“Oh! Right. My hand slipped,” says Will with a sly smile.

Riley stares at Will, cheeks turning pinker. Does she believe he's Nate? “You can't do that!”

“Why? It was an accident,” replies Will.

“Sure, dude,” I mutter.

“Jesus! There're plenty of girls who want my hands on them; she shouldn't have got so close!” says Will.

Curiously, Riley continues to stare at Will who leans close to her and stares back, noses almost touching. “You have to apologise,” she says, not flinching.

“Whoa! Fine!” Will steps away.

Riley steps backwards too. “And you both look bloody ridiculous in eyeliner!”

I rub my head. I'm keeping my mouth shut, too drunk to deal with her in this mood.

“Now, Nate?” she says, gesturing at Will.

“Ah. Right.” He loops a friendly arm across her shoulders and she flinches.

“Don't touch me!” Riley practically flings herself across the hallway to escape him.

We watch her go and I turn to Nate. “What the hell is going on with you and her? Why did you let Riley think Will is you?”

“Nothing,” he mutters. “Nothing.”

“Do me a favour, don't swap identities tonight, please. I'm confused enough.”

“Dude, you know how to tell us apart.”

“I'm not stripping your t-shirt off half way through the night to check your tattoos! We'll be all over the internet in a gay relationship by the time the evening ends.”

Nate shakes his head. “Just ask me. I'll tell you.” He inclines his head to the door. “The girls in there. They’re twins too. How awesome is that?”

I groan. “Who are they?”

“Stars of some Dutch reality TV show. More importantly, up for some fun with Ruby Riot!”

Twins on twins. Nate's eyes shine and I close mine. I know the twins too well, and what they get up to sometimes. “Lucky you, your own personal porn show. Ever think you're being set up?”

“Who cares?” He pushes open the door and heads back inside the Green Room.

Chapter Thirty-One

TEGAN

My phone alert sounds again. I'm losing count now, pissed off the incessant beeping finally has woken me up and isn't a random noise in my dream. I grab the phone and focus on the screen. 9 a.m..

Can't be Jax, way too early for him after his night out in Amsterdam.

I squint at the phone. Twitter alerts.

The social media poison has receded in the last day; but if the hatred is starting again, I don’t want to see. The fans think Jax is fickle, obviously, and I'm no longer a threat. For now. What the hell happens when I go back to the tour? Nope, not looking. Bad for my health. I set the phone back down and head for the shower.

By 12 p.m., Jax hasn't called and unease sets in. So far, I've refused to go online to look at his Amsterdam escapades, because the night will be documented on there. Jax and his behaviour when he drinks plus Will plus Nate plus Amsterdam undoubtedly equals dodgy photos constructed into scandal by the gutter press. I'm not being swayed by any reports until I've spoken to him, which means I can’t look.

Another Twitter alert lights up my phone, tagging me, and the unease grows. Shit, I'll regret this, but I can't hold off checking any longer.

There's a link attached to a Tweet with hundreds of shares and I click on it. Immediately a clip of the Dutch TV show appears.

There’s footage of Ruby Riot lined up on a red leather sofa. The host is a guy, age indeterminate due to plastic surgery around his eyes and dyed hair, who enthuses about Ruby Riot's performance in English.

Ruby's on the opposite edge of the sofa, as far away from the host as possible, her eyes fixed on Jax who's fielding questions. Or attempting to. He lounges on the seat, one leg crossed over his knee, and arm draped over the low back. Jax with full-on rock star attitude. He's blinking at the audience, smiling and running a hand through his hair in the annoyingly sexy way that grabbed me the first time I saw him on stage.

Will’s next to him; he and Nate are either side of a couple of blonde girls, their legs touching. A distinctly unimpressed looking actress sits next to Ruby, and their sour faces rival each other for who wants to be there the least.

Why was this was uploaded?

The host takes a handheld mic and walks over to the eager audience. Next, he makes a big deal of choosing one of the excited members to talk to. Once full dramatic effect is achieved, he asks a question in Dutch to a breathless girl clutching a picture of Jax. I cringe for her. She responds in excited chatter and the man nods.

“Question for the boys. Lieke wants to know if you have girlfriends,” the host says, turning back to his guests.

“Nah,” replies Nate.

“I see you've found ladies though,” the man says, pointing at Will and Nate.

I laugh to myself at the term 'lady' used on the girls next to them.

“Form an orderly queue, we’ll try and get to you all,” says Nate and the look Ruby gives him would be lethal if it were as poisonous as the expression.

What a douche. I bet they’re all high.

“And you, Jax?” asks the host. “Do you have a girl in your life?”

My heart thumps as confusion crosses his face. “Huh. No. Nobody. Waiting for someone special.”

No.

I watch in disbelief as the host replies to the girl, but her English is good enough that she heard and understood his answer. With a squeal, she blows him a kiss and the camera pans back to Jax who throws the girl a smile and blows a kiss back.

“You heard it first, ladies! No girl for Jax!” the host calls out, with a grin.

For a moment Jax frowns, before he’s distracted by new questions about the tour. The clip ends.

Under the link on the entertainment site is the headline. 'Jax Lewis and Tegan Hughes - it's over'.

Glutton for punishment, I replay the clip, studying Jax carefully. He's clearly drunk - or stoned - and dazed by his surroundings, but loving the reaction from the girls in the studio. I bristle at the smiles, waves, and at the twins' dumb remarks. I hope Ruby smacked one - or all - of them once they left the studio.

Jax’s words echo:
'No. Nobody'
. He could’ve put the host straight, mentioned me, but he didn’t.

Anger grips and I grab my phone, stab in Jax's number and wait. The phone rings out. I don’t leave a voicemail and hang up instead. I bet this was bloody PR telling him to deny our relationship because the situation suits them.

Maybe it bloody suits him too. A night out in Amsterdam, no girlfriend to constrain him, Jax could easily forget and give in to his old ways. Several hours since we spoke and I'm forgotten about, his memories of me and our relationship drowned at the bottom of a beer glass.

I catch sight of the other pictures below the talk show footage. Jax having an awesome time in Amsterdam surrounded by girls. Sure, I've seen many pictures of Jax and girls since I arrived back in Wales, but trusted him. Now he's on tape as denying our relationship; that trust has gone.

For a few minutes, I sit numbed, disgusted with myself for falling for his spin.

I will not cry over him.

I change and head out for a long run, and switch off.

****

JAX

I stare at the plate of toast and glass of orange juice, convincing my stomach that eating is the way to go here. Bile rises again and I swallow. My head aches as if somebody stomped on it last night. Hell, maybe they did, I don't remember past the first club after the TV appearance. To be honest, I barely remember my debut in front of TV cameras either.

I do remember the reason I don't drink and smoke weed at the same time. It makes me puke. I pick at the toast and slump down in my chair, closing my eyes. Nope. Can't touch this. Mid-afternoon, I can't stay in my hotel room anymore and have taken refuge in the quiet restaurant. No sign of Will or Nate, unsurprisingly. Last I remember was trying to figure out which twin was which – the girls and them.

“Jax, you dick.” I snap my head up at Ruby's voice. She heads across the restaurant and pulls out a chair. “Nicely done.”

Oh, shit.
“What? Fuck.” I scramble for my phone and Google my name. What happened? I can’t remember any girls or arrests last night. Before I have a chance to look, Ruby takes my phone and sets it on the table.

Why wouldn’t Tegan answer the phone earlier?

“What did I do, Ruby?”

She taps her red-painted fingernails on the table. “I knew you were off your face at the studio, but thought you'd remember. You told everybody you and Tegan were over.”

Ruby’s words hit my pounding head. “What? No, I fucking didn't! When?”

“You did. Does Tegan know?”

“Know what? There's nothing
to
know! When did I say that?”

“Talk Show Guy asked if you had a girl and you told him no.”

I slump back in my seat and push the offending toast away. “I did? I didn’t. Why would I say that? He asked me about Tegan?”

I cycle through the foggy memories of the TV studio. We played ‘My Kinda Disaster’ – very suited to the evening – and sat on the sofa. Loads of chicks screamed at me. The host asked stupid questions.

Oh, shit.
That
question.

“No! He meant a hook-up like Will and Nate’s, right? They were obviously gonna hook up with the girls. That’s what he was asking me.” Ruby raises a plucked brow. “Right?”

“If you say so.”

“Fuck!” I stand. “What exactly did I say?”

“He asked if there was a girl in your life and –”

I interrupt. “No, he said ‘girl for tonight’, didn’t he?” Ruby shakes her head. “Fuck! I meant no girl for me
last night
! I’m waiting for Tegan to come back from Wales - for somebody special! Her!”

“I'm sure she'd believe you if it wasn't for this.” Ruby pushes her phone across the table and I snatch it. On the screen is a grainy picture of me leaving a club with a girl, alone. Her face is obscured by long blonde hair.

“I don't fucking know who that is!” I slam the phone on the table. “She definitely wasn't in my bed this morning! I swear!”

“Why didn’t you mention Tegan to the host and put things straight?”

“I was out of it, Ruby. I had no idea what the fuck he was saying.”

“Yeah, that’s obvious. You'd better speak to Tegan.”

I stand and grab my phone. “I don't fucking believe this! Everything's twisted!”

I storm out of the restaurant and back to my room - a small voice telling me my life is safer there until this is sorted. Bryn's waiting for me to slip up; avoiding his fists is number two on my priority list. Contacting Tegan is number one.

Back in my room, I leave yet another voicemail for Tegan then lie on my bed. The bed that was most definitely free of groupies last night. Shit, I had enough offers but I managed. I held onto the image of Tegan. Of us. At least I think I did.
Fuck
my memory.

Who was the girl in the picture?

I call Will and ask him. “You just described half of the chicks there last night, man. I have no clue,” he replies.

“Did you see me? With a chick I mean?”

“No. You disappeared for a bit. Maybe you were with her then?”

“Did I? Shit!”

Will's no help; I hang up and sink back onto the soft bed again. I run through the events I can remember after the TV show. A group who work on the programme took us to a bar. Then another. Memories flash in, of wandering the Red Light District and swapping bars for a coffee shop. Then nothing.

My chest constricts with fear that I did do something and fucked things up with Tegan. In the past, I've slept with chicks and forgotten, finding them in my bed the next morning, but that was before her. I remember spending time throwing up in a bathroom; but no, I'm positive I didn't hook up. I wouldn’t. The most that happened is I spent the time peeling girls off me who attempted to attach themselves.

My phone rings again. Will. “Hey, man. So, I saw the picture. That chick was there, yeah. You left with her and a couple of her friends and staggered back a few minutes later. Said you'd put them in a taxi.”

My shoulders slump in relief. “Why aren't the other girls in the picture?”

He snorts. “Cropped out probably. Man, you have a lot to learn.”

“And did I touch the blonde, while she was with us?”

“I don't know about that. Kinda busy myself.”

Shit. I don't even know the chick’s name. Does she recognise herself in the pictures?

Will Tegan believe me?

After another failed attempt to contact Tegan, I doze on the bed, glad we're not due to fly out of Amsterdam until this evening. I’m unsure how long I’ve slept for when I'm woken by my phone. Tegan’s name displays.
Thank fuck for that.

“Hey.” I brace myself. This could go very badly.

“Hello, Jaxon,” she says coldly. “Anything you want to tell me? Or doesn't it matter now we're not a couple anymore?”

I sit and prop myself against the pillows. “They got it wrong. I didn't say that.”

“I saw the video clip, Jax!”

“I misheard his question! I thought he said for the night, not in my life. I told him I didn't have a girl for the night like the twins obviously did. I meant I was waiting for you to come back when I said I was waiting for somebody special!” The words rush out with the fear Tegan might hang up before I can explain.

My admission silences her and I bloody hope she's processing the information. I’ve suffered the brunt of her temper in the past, her overreaction, which sent her back to Wales.
Please be okay.

“Tegan. Believe me.”

“What about when he said you were single? You didn’t exactly mention me at that point!” she snaps.

“What? Did you want me to talk about us on TV after all the crap thrown at us recently?’

“No, it’s just…” More silence. “Shit, Jax. This is screwed up.”

“And I was um… a bit worse for wear.”

“Stoned? Drunk? Both?”

“Both,” I mumble. “I couldn’t focus on what was happening properly.”

“And the rest of the evening? Can you remember that?”

I close my eyes and push my fingers against my forehead. This girl is pissed off, but she’s talking to me, which is one thing in my favour. “A bit of a blur.”

“You’re such a dickhead when you get drunk!” she retorts.

“Not denying that.” I wait for her to say more and wish I could gauge the emotion behind her silence. “Do you believe me? Don’t let my screw up ruin things. You know you’re the somebody special I’m waiting for.”

“Possibly I'd believe you but - the girl in the picture?” Her icy tone remains.

“I wasn't alone with her, the photo was cropped. She had friends. I was taking them to a taxi.”