Fame (36 page)

Tear-filled eyes stared back up at him, just before she tightened her grip around him and placed her head on his chest. He reciprocated the embrace, feeling his body fill with instant warmth from her closeness, from the empathy for his situation, for her understanding. It was all too much for him.
 

He bent down to her ear and whispered, “I don’t deserve you, Maisy. I really fucking don’t, but if you want to be friends, I’m going to eat up that offer like it’s my last fucking meal. If you want more, you tell me, and I will give you whatever you want.”

She pulled away and wiped her tears. “I would love to be your friend, Rook. Do you want to work on some songs back at the house?”

“That is something I will never, ever, say no to. Let’s go, Boo.”

As Rook strapped her into her helmet and straddled the bike so she could get on it, he thought about the notion of having Maisy as a friend. It would be hard to keep his distance, to not touch her inappropriately, but he was going to live up to her offering. The first step to a healthy and satisfying relationship was becoming friends. This go around, Rook was going to do it right, because losing Maisy was not an option.
 

Feeling revived, he drove back to the house, thinking about the new chapter he was about to embark on…a clean, healthy, and productive life with Maisy at his side.
 

Chapter Fifteen

**Grey**

“When are you going to be here? Seriously? You can’t come any sooner? Okay, I know. Alright, I will see you then.”

“Who you talking to?” Grey asked Cruz, who jumped at hearing Grey’s voice.

Cruz was in the living room, pacing back and forth, while holding onto his hair and talking on the phone. Grey had never seen him look so…desperate.

“Uh, just a girl,” Cruz answered flippantly.
 

“Didn’t seem like just a girl. Was this the girl who you had over the other day?”

Letting out a frustrated breath, Cruz nodded his head. “Yeah, her name is Maelani. She was the one I had a threesome with Willow.”

Cringing slightly, Grey nodded. “So, she was good enough to have her alone?”

Cruz’s eyes lit up while he thought about Maelani. “Dude, she’s….God, she’s so fucking amazing. I don’t know, but there is something about her that I’m slowly becoming obsessed with. We’ve only seen each other less than a handful of times, and honestly, I barely know her, but I can’t get enough of her.”

“That good?”

“It’s not just good pussy; there’s something in her eyes when she looks at me that has me by the fucking balls.”

“Then, what’s the problem? Why are you pacing like a maniac while pulling your hair out?”

Cruz sat on the couch and looked out the window while he spoke. “I don’t really know what she does as a job. She can only meet up with me at night, or a Sunday morning, which is odd. It makes me think, is she married? Does she have a boyfriend, a husband? I joked once about her job, about her being some kind of hooker, and she kind of confirmed I was right in a weird way.”

“What?!” Grey asked, feeling like his eyes popped out of their sockets. “Please, tell me you’re lying. Cruz, are you paying her?”

“No!” Cruz shouted. “Fuck, dude, do you really think that little of me?”

“No, but you have to admit, you’ve done some weird shit in your past.”

“Yes, but I don’t need to pay for sex. Ladies pay me for sex.”

Grey rolled his eyes at Cruz. He was, and always would be, the man whore of the group, no doubt about that, even if this Maelani chick had a vise grip on his manhood.
 

“She’s coming over tonight, but not until later, like a booty call.”

That comment garnered a snort out of Grey. “Ha, a booty call. She’s using you, man.”

“You think?” Cruz said, frustrated. “I don’t get why, though. She didn’t know who I was, she didn’t even know Willow was in a successful band. She doesn’t listen to music, really.”

“Bullshit,” Grey called. “There’s no way she doesn’t listen to music. Even hermits listen to music. She’s playing you.”

Shaking his head, Cruz bent over and rested his arms on his knees. “I don’t know if she is or not. What do I do? Just call her out on it?”

Grey shrugged his shoulders. “Not up to me, man. How much do you like this girl?”

“A lot,” Cruz said, pained.
 

“Then, I think you need to talk to her before you get in too deep. If she’s playing you, you have the right to know. Last thing this band needs is for some mole to be fucking us that’s just going to go straight to the media and leak some bullshit story about us.”

“Fuck,” Cruz drawled out, as he sat back and placed both of his hands on his head. “I never even thought about that until you said it. Goddamn it!”

Cruz got off the couch in frustration and started walking out of the living room.
 

“Cruz, I’m sorry,” Grey called out, feeling guilty.

“Don’t sweat it, ass wipe. I needed someone to knock some sense in my head.”

Cruz stormed off to his room, making Grey feel like a real dickhead. The last thing he wanted was to upset Cruz, especially since he was starting to like someone. The only reason Grey even mentioned anything was because, sometimes, Cruz could think with his dick more than his actual brain, and he didn’t want to see Cruz get hurt.
 

Feeling like an asshole, Grey went to the kitchen to get a snack and some water before he went off to his room to go on a binge of playing his bass. He hadn’t been playing it as much as he should have, and he felt out of practice. Strumming his bass came naturally, but he could feel a little rust starting to develop in his fingers, and that was not okay.
 

The fridge was stocked full of their favorites, as well as Twisted Perfection’s. It was odd seeing girly drinks in their fridge, but it was something Grey was starting to become accustomed to.
 

Feeling hungrier than he thought, he grabbed a bottle of water and a premade turkey sandwich that the maid in the house made every day. She put on a good amount of amazing deli mustard that Grey couldn’t get enough of; the amount of turkey sandwiches he was consuming was getting a little obscene. He vowed to start working on his diet tomorrow, because with them going on tour soon, he refused to be the flabby one of the group. Not that he was flabby, by any means, but with the way he was wolfing down sandwiches, he was going to be a chunker quite soon.
 

When he shut the door and spun around, he ran smack into a hot mess of blonde hair.
 

He looked down and found Willow, scrambling around the floor, trying to pick up the things he’d knocked out of her hands.
 

Setting his food on the counter, he bent down to help Willow.
 

“Hey, sorry about that. I didn’t see you.”

“It’s fine. I got this, don’t help me,” she responded in a crazed manner.
 

“Hey, you okay?” Grey asked, lifting her chin to look at him. Her eyes were bloodshot, and it was as if they weren’t focusing. “Willow, what’s going on?”

“Nothing!” she practically shouted, as she scrambled around on the floor, having a hard time picking everything up.
 

“Let me help,” Grey said, a little panicked by her appearance and attitude.
 

She was stuffing things in her purse quickly and trying to stand up, but fell off balance, sending her into the cupboard. She laughed while she slouched and let her purse fall to the ground.
 

“Hey, are you drunk…” when he looked at her, something that fell out of her purse caught the corner of his eye.
 

A little bag full of white substance was sitting next to her, causing him to stop in his tracks. She saw the look on his face and followed his gaze. When she realized what fell out of her purse, she quickly stuffed it back in and started getting up.
 

“Willow, what the hell? Was that blow?”

“No! God, Grey. Do you really think I would be stupid enough to do that?”

Yes, Grey thought to himself, as he took in her disheveled clothes and messy hair.
 

“Then, what is it?” he asked, as they both stood up.
 

“Baby powder,” she said without blinking. “I hate fucking chafing.”

“Let me have some, then,” Grey pressed her.
 

“Get your own fucking baby powder, you cheap bastard.” Willow grabbed his sandwich, took a bite, and then walked out of the kitchen.
 

“Wait,” Grey said, following her. “Willow, please just tell me you’re not doing drugs.”

Willow turned around and pushed her hair out of her face while giving him a giant smile.
 

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no, I’m not doing drugs, Grey. I don’t need them. I’m perfectly fine the way I am.”

“Then, why do you look like such a mess?”

Insulted, she glared at him and said, “No wonder you don’t have a girlfriend. You can’t just go around telling women they look terrible, Grey. You’re not winning any friends that way.”

“Don’t change the subject, Willow.”

“I was drinking,” she said, matter-of-factly.
 

“With that guy who met you at the radio station?”

“None of your fucking business,” she said in a sing song voice, while walking away.

“I care about you,” Grey shouted, trying to get her to stop.
 

“Well, stop! I don’t want you to care about me. It’s worthless to me, Grey. You’re worthless to me.”

Grey’s heart sank as he watched her walk away, while twirling the “baby powder” in her hand. Grey didn’t like that guy she met up with, and he didn’t like the Willow he was seeing. She wasn’t herself, and he was going to make sure he found out why.
 

**Kaid**

“Kaid, the door is for you, dick smack,” Cruz called from the entry way.
 

Rolling his eyes, Kaid managed to thrust his body out of the extremely comfortable lounge chair he was resting in and walk toward the entryway. He had been trying to focus on getting some promos looked through, as well as catching up with their fan mail, when Grey approached him about Willow and the radical change she had made in the last couple of months.

She was definitely different than the Willow he grew up with. She was more concerned about her appearance, what she was going to wear, and how many people were following her on Twitter. She looked like a wreck most of the time at night, and slept until the afternoon when they didn’t have any previous engagements.
 

To say Kaid was worried about Willow was an understatement, but whenever he went to talk to her, she always cut him off and told him she was fine, just having a little fun. That was what he was worried about, that she was having too much fun.
 

Trying to shake the thoughts from his head, he walked toward the entryway and stilled when he saw Harper standing in the doorway. Last time he talked to her was on the phone when he completely blew it and let some of his feelings show. He never let that happen, but he had a weak moment.
 

“Uh, hey,” Kaid said, while looking around the house. Luckily, everyone was in their respective rooms, not lingering around to see what was going on, but given the fact that Cruz answered the door, he would most likely get some kind of harassment at some point. The man never let anything go.
 

“Hey, can we talk?” Harper asked, looking almost nervous. There was no way she was nervous; he must have been reading her wrong. She was a strong, confident woman, who chewed up and spit out musicians for a living.
 

“Sure, would you like to sit out back?” Kaid asked, gesturing to the pool.
 

“That will work,” she agreed.
 

Before they went out back, Kaid grabbed a couple of waters from the fridge and handed one to Harper, who took it with a shrug. If anything, he was always polite.
 

They sat on two lounge chairs that faced the pool and the closed off backyard.
 

As Harper sat down, it was hard for him not to take in her tight fitting clothes and bright red hair, which she wore in a thick pony tail with a black headband wrapped around her head. Her Shattered Souls T-shirt was hard to miss, given the fact that it had their emblem on it, and he couldn’t help but smile at the Keds that graced her feet.
 

“What’s up?” Kaid asked, as he rested his arms on his knees and looked over at Harper, who was shifting in her lounge chair, trying to get comfortable.
 

“Well, I wanted to talk to you about the other day. I felt bad about how we ended things on the phone. I felt like you were trying to rush me off.”

He was, he thought to himself. He was trying to spare himself the embarrassment of being turned down by Harper, even though she kind of did, he still needed to save face.
 

Waving off their conversation, as if he wasn’t embarrassed at all, he said, “Don’t sweat it; it was nothing, really.”