Heavy Metal (A Badboy Rockstar Romance)

BOOK: Heavy Metal (A Badboy Rockstar Romance)
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HEAVY METAL

A Novel

 

 

Octavia Wildwood

 

Hayley’s life has been anything but charmed.  She fled her abusive stepfather only to find herself with an equally abusive boyfriend.  Carl finds fault with everything she does – not even her recent weight loss is enough to satisfy that jerk.

 

Then in the midst of one of Carl’s angry tirades, a mysterious stranger intervenes.  In fact, he punches Carl right in his big stupid face!  That’s when everything changes.

 

Brandon is the lead singer of a wildly famous heavy metal band.  One minute he’s punching Carl out and the next, he’s taking Hayley on the road with him.  He’s sexy, talented and fun.  He’s fantastic.  But when he finds out Hayley’s secret, he’s bound to leave her…isn’t he?

Copyright © 2015 Octavia Wildwood.

 

Originally Published in 2014.

All Rights Reserved.

 

This content herein may not be transmitted, reproduced or redistributed without the express written permission of Octavia Wildwood.  The unauthorized use or distribution of copyrighted material is prohibited by law.

 

This publication is a work of fiction.  All characters and events are products of the author’s imagination.  The book’s cover is comprised of licensed stock photography and is not endorsed by the photographer or by the model(s) pictured.  This publication contains explicit content that is intended for a mature audience.  All characters who are depicted in explicit situations are consenting adults. 

 

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Chapter 01

“Oh my goodness, you look absolutely incredible!”

When I heard the words, I had to glance over my shoulder to make sure no one was standing behind me.  Only then did I realize the compliment had been directed at me. 

I turned around to see my former co-worker Angie gawking at me, her jaw hanging open in disbelief.  After she had accidentally gotten pregnant, she’d made the decision to move back to her hometown six hours away so her parents could be involved in the baby’s life.  We hadn’t seen each other for the better part of a year.

“Angie!  What are you doing here?”

“I was practically driving right past the diner on my way through town.  I had to stop by to see you!  And speaking of seeing you,
look at you
,” Angie said again, her amazement evident.  “You are so tiny!”

“Thanks,” I said shyly, feeling my face redden.  Then I looked past her and saw a stroller.  “Oh, you brought the baby!” I exclaimed, grateful for the distraction.  “Can I hold her?”  Although I had seen pictures, it was my first time meeting Angie’s daughter.

“Yes, yes, of course!”

As I lifted the sweet little girl out of her stroller and cradled her carefully in my arms, Angie continued to stare at me.  She probably didn’t even realize she was doing it, but it was as though she couldn’t take her eyes off me.  Finally, she spoke.

“Hayley, you look like a completely different person!”

“Oh I don’t know about that,” I mumbled dismissively.

“How much weight have you lost?” Angie demanded.

I shrugged and averted my eyes.  “I’m not sure,” I mumbled as the baby drooled on my neck. 

The truth was I knew exactly how much weight I had lost, right down to the last pound.  And it was a lot – more than I had ever thought I was capable of losing.  Maybe it was even too much, considering how quickly I’d taken it off.  So, just as I had done when I was obese, I fibbed about my weight because I was embarrassed.

Wasn’t the shame supposed to go away once I reached a healthy body weight?  Oddly enough, it hadn’t.  But then again, there wasn’t much – if anything – that was healthy about what I had done.  So in a way, I supposed it made sense that I still felt like a huge failure.

Angie grabbed a stack of napkins off the diner counter and dabbed at her daughter’s slobbery mouth and chin.  My drool covered neck was next.  She brushed my hair aside to clean me up and then gasped. 

“I can see your collarbone!” she exclaimed as though she could hardly believe it.  “Oh my goodness, you
have
to tell me how you did it, Hayley!  I’d love to get this baby weight off,” she confessed, wrinkling her nose.  “Please, tell me how I can look like you!”

Never in my life had I expected to hear anyone say that to me.  It was surreal.

The baby began to squirm in my arms right then – perhaps because I had tensed up – so Angie took her from me.  It was actually perfect timing because it saved me from having to say a word.  I hoped that would be the end of our discussion about my new body, which was still incredibly foreign to me. 

But after Angie had soothed the little girl and placed her back in the stroller, I realized I wasn’t home free yet.  My friend stood upright and stared at me expectantly, waiting for an answer to her question.  Clearly she wasn’t prepared to let this go.

Angie had always a bit been on the heavy side.  In retrospect, maybe that was one of the things we had found common ground over back when we had first started working together at the diner.  I looked back on those days fondly, remembering what it had felt like to finally have a friend, someone who understood me. 

We’d spent many late nights confiding in each other over leftover apple pie after closing.  Or at least we had until my boyfriend had decided Angie and I were spending too much time together for his liking.

My normally plump friend was a bit heavier than usual – understandable considering she had recently had a baby.  Although I had never experienced pregnancy myself, I was all too familiar with the desire to lose weight.  I knew exactly how she must be feeling, out of control and desperate for a solution.  My heart went out to her.

But I didn’t want to discuss my weight loss methods with her because I didn’t want her to use them herself.  Isn’t it funny how we have different – and sometimes lower – standards for ourselves than we do for others?

“You look good, Angie,” I insisted.  “You glow!  The baby weight will come off on its own.”

“That’s easy for you to say!” Angie retorted.  “Look at you!  You’re skinny!”

“I’m really not...”

“You are.  You look completely different.  You’re even wearing makeup!  And you’ve curled your hair!” Angie observed, not missing a thing.  She leaned in close, a hopeful expression on her pretty round face.  Then she whispered, “Please tell me that means you’re back on the market?  Please?”

The question was one I had expected, to be honest.  I knew she despised my boyfriend.  She’d made no secret of that.  So when I silently shook my head, I knew what sort of reaction I would get.  And sure enough, Angie delivered.

“Oh Hayley, when are you going to kick that jackass to the curb?” she asked me sadly.  “You deserve so much better than him.  And I mean...calling it quits with him would be the easiest way ever to lose what, two hundred pounds?  What are you waiting for?”

“Do we really have to go there again?” I asked with a sigh.  “Can’t we agree to disagree?” 

We had been over this very subject countless times and, although I knew Angie had my best interests at heart, I was tired of discussing it.  I hated the way I sounded when I tried to defend my man – and I hated that a lot of Angie’s observations about him were irrefutable.

Just then the bells above the diner door jingled, signalling a customer’s arrival.  It was perfect timing, I had to admit.  Retying my white apron around my slender waist, I grabbed a menu and my order pad before tucking a pen behind my ear.  Then I excused myself to do my job.

The customer was a lone man in his twenties, perhaps slightly older than me.  He had chosen a booth at the very back of the diner.  He had a cap pulled down low over his eyes, and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.  He was a bit scruffy looking in an effortlessly sexy sort of way.

He needed a shave, but his stubble suited him.  He wore a black t-shirt and ripped blue jeans, but they weren’t the kind of jeans that had been torn from wear and tear.  They looked like the sort of jeans sold with careful and deliberate holes already in them.  Trendy or not, I would never understand why anyone would buy half-destroyed clothing!

“Hi,” I greeted him with a smile.  “I’m really sorry but smoking isn’t allowed in here.” 

Dinnertime had come and gone, and business was now slow – virtually nonexistent.  Under different circumstances I may not have said anything about the cigarette, since there were no other customers around to complain.  But even though she was clear across the diner, I didn’t want Angie’s baby to be exposed to second hand smoke.

The man looked up and me and wordlessly pulled the cigarette from his mouth.  That was when I saw it wasn’t actually a cigarette at all.  It was a long white candy that was designed to resemble a cigarette. 

“Sorry!” I quickly apologized, feeling my face redden.  “I thought that was the real thing.”

“I wish,” he replied, speaking in a low, gravelly voice.  “I’m trying to quit smoking.”

“Oh, I see.  Good luck,” I told him sincerely.  “Anyway, here’s a menu.  Our specials are posted on the whiteboard over there,” I said, pointing it out to him.  “Can I get you something to drink to start?  I just put on a fresh pot of coffee, if you want.”

“Coffee sounds good,” he said immediately, handing the menu back to me without even opening it.  He tilted his head back and looked up at me.  For the first time, I was able to get a decent look at his eyes beneath the bill of his baseball cap.  They were very green. 

“What’s your favorite thing on the menu?” he asked.

I hesitated. 

The old, overweight Hayley would have recommended the double cheeseburger with sweet potato fries and guacamole, no question about it.  But I wasn’t her anymore.  At least I was trying not to be.  But if I wasn’t her, then who was I?  Apparently I was somebody in the midst of an identity crisis – and flirting dangerously with an eating disorder.  What did thin girls eat? 

He was looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to recommend something.  I almost blurted out the first cliché answer that popped into my head.  I almost suggested a salad.  It seemed like a safe choice, if not a completely honest one. 

But there was something about his face – a sort of dark, no nonsense cynicism – that made me have second thoughts.  I didn’t want to lie to him.  Something inside me wanted to be honest with someone about something for once in my life.  So I told him the truth.

“The burgers here are incredible, especially with a side of sweet potato fries and guacamole.”

“Then that’s what I’ll have,” he told me.  “Please.”

“Sure thing, coming right up,” I told him as I hurriedly shoved the menu into the oversized pocket of my apron.  In the process, the pen I had tucked behind my ear fell.  I winced as it noisily clattered onto the table and then rolled onto the floor.

The man in the booth leaned down and picked it up for me.  “Take your time,” he told me as he handed the pen back to me, his fingertip inadvertently brushing against the open palm of my hand for a brief, fleeting moment.  “I’m not in any hurry.”

*****

Twenty minutes later, the stranger in the back booth was eating a delicious smelling burger that had made my mouth water when I had brought it out to him.  Angie and I were quietly chatting at a booth up near the front of the diner, the baby sleeping peacefully next to us. 

I had been checking on the man at the back periodically.  Or at least I had been until he had pleasantly waved me away, assuring me that he was fine and encouraging me to go take a break.  I had gratefully taken his suggestion, my feet aching from being on them for hours.  Not even losing a pile of weight could fix that!

“Hey Hayley, are we good out here?” Cesar, the diner’s cook, asked as he emerged from the kitchen.  He peered around at the almost completely empty diner.  “I need to go pick my kids up from my mom’s.”

“Is everything okay?” I asked, concerned.

“Yeah, one of the kids just had a nightmare and won’t stop crying.  It’s got my mom all upset,” he shrugged.  “My money is on the kids being overtired and full of sugar – God knows my mom loves to spoil them when they sleep over.  It’s no big deal, but I’d better take care of it before everyone has a meltdown.  Can I go?”

“Yes, of course,” I replied.  “Why don’t you take the rest of the night off?  I can cover for you,” I offered, knowing I could handle whipping up a dish or two in the kitchen if need be.  “It’s slow here, and this time of night most people usually just want pie and coffee anyway.”

“Thanks Hayley,” Cesar said gratefully.  “You’re the best.  Actually, you’re the only reason I haven’t given my notice,” he winked.  “Although I have to say I admire the way Angie went out – that glorious day will be seared in my memory forever.  Hi Angie, it’s good to see you again.”

She grinned.  “Hi Cesar, I’m glad you appreciated the big scene I made when I quit.” 

He laughed.  “I wish I had your guts.  But hey, I’ve gotta go!  Bye!”

Angie and I waved and then she snorted.  “I kind of did go out with a bang, didn’t I?”

“Yes, I’d say so,” I agreed.  “I still can’t believe you threw a drink in Carl’s face.”

“I still can’t believe you never have,” she shot back, her distaste for my boyfriend – who also happened to be my boss – evident.  “Honestly Hayley, what can you possibly see in that sorry excuse for a man?  He’s a big dumb animal and he treats you like dirt.”

“He’s not so bad,” I protested, but the look Angie gave me told me to save my breath.  I took the hint and changed the subject.  “So are you in for town long?” I asked hopefully.  “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“I’m just passing through on my way to visit my cousin,” Angie explained.  “And you know why I didn’t tell you I was coming,” she added in a somber tone.  “If Carl had known I was going to be in town he would have found a way to keep us from hanging out.”

“Well you did throw a drink in his face...”

“You and I both know it isn’t about that,” Angie insisted.  “Carl hated me long before that.  It’s because I see right through his bullshit.  He’s afraid one of these days you might actually listen to me and leave him.”

It was true.  Carl hadn’t approved of my friendship with Angie, and had constantly told me she was a bad influence.  Of course, that was absolute nonsense.  But Carl wasn’t exactly a man to be reasoned with, especially when his temper was flaring.

In reality, I suspected Carl didn’t like my friend because she was a strong, independent woman who wouldn’t take crap from any man.  When she had told me she was going to raise her baby alone, I had been in awe of her courage.  She was the sort of woman I wished I could be.

“What the hell, Hayley?  I’m not paying you to sit on your ass!” a loud, angry voice suddenly bellowed as the diner door flew open.  It banged against the wall so hard that the bells I’d hung crashed to the ground.  Carl came lumbering into the diner like an angry bear, his face contorted in an expression of anger. 

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