Heavy Metal (A Badboy Rockstar Romance) (11 page)

I cut him off, deciding that beating him to the point might be less painful.

“Is it because I’m not pretty enough?” I asked him in a small voice, my chest tightening as I braced myself for an answer I might not like.  “It is, isn’t it?”

“What on earth are you talking about?” Brandon asked.  “This entire conversation is absurd.  But for the record, I think you are absolutely gorgeous, inside and out.  And I wanted to kiss you, believe me.  I want to kiss you all the time.  Every time I see you, I want to kiss you.”

“Then why don’t you?”

He pressed his lips together in an expression of discontent.  “I didn’t want to be that guy who swoops in and takes advantage of someone who’s in a vulnerable position.  I didn’t want to be your rebound,” he explained, lowering his head to avoid making eye contact with me.  “And, well...”

“What?  Say it.”

He finally met my gaze.  “Are you through with Carl?” he asked.  “Is it really over?  Wait – before you say anything, just hear me out.  Even if you don’t want to be with me...even if you decide you want something – or someone – completely different, just please tell me you’re not going to go back to that asshole.”

“I’m not,” I said, making my mind up once and for all right then and there.

Brandon lit up at my words.  “You mean it?”

“I’m done with Carl,” I assured him, my voice firm and strong sounding.  “I will call him right this minute to tell him I want my stuff, if that’s what it will take to get you to believe me.  Give me a phone.”

“Hang on,” Brandon said, repositioning himself beneath our pillow fort so that he was right next to me.  “There’s something I want to do first.”

And with that, he leaned in and kissed me.  It was the sweetest, gentlest first kiss I’d ever had, full of promise and tenderness.  When his lips grazed mine it not only confirmed my theory that Brandon was indeed a very good kisser – it also made me melt inside. 

But a little voice in my head cautioned me that no matter how good it felt in that moment, what was blossoming between the two of us wouldn’t last.  It
couldn’t
last.  Pretty soon it was all going to fall apart, crashing and burning as quickly as it had taken off.  Everything always did.

Chapter 10

Was it cynicism or intuition that made me think Brandon and I would never work out?

It barely mattered.  All that mattered was the way I completely froze the following night when we found ourselves in a posh hotel room after the band’s show.  Brandon had gotten me my own room, but had come over to watch a movie with me.

But pretty soon watching the movie had turned into cuddling on the bed.  It felt nice to be held.  It was what I’d been aching for.  It was what I needed.  The kissing felt nice too, and the more we did it, the more passionate it became.

Then Brandon’s hand slipped under my shirt.

I immediately leapt off the bed, reacting as though I had been burned.

Brandon stood up too.  “Did I do something wrong?” he asked, clearly surprised by my reaction.

“No.  Yes.  No,” I told him, struggling to figure out a way to explain what had occurred.  The truth was that I desperately wanted Brandon to touch me.  I wanted to feel his hands all over me, caressing my body, sliding over my skin...

But then I thought about the disgusting mess I’d made of my body and was immediately sent into a panic.  Carl had made no attempt to hide his negative opinion about the way I looked, whether it was with or without clothes on.  In fact, he had at times been so cruel that I had come to dread sex, constantly fearing it would be yet another exercise in humiliation and degradation. 

And let’s face it – Brandon was way hotter than Carl.  If my ex had been put off by my body, what would Brandon think?  He could do so much better than me.  I knew it and he must know it too, even if he was too polite to say so.  I didn’t want to let him down, and I was terrified of disgusting him.

“Talk to me,” Brandon said, taking my hand and gently guiding me to the bed. 

I sat down and he sat next to me, still squeezing my hand reassuringly.

“Is it too soon?” he asked.  “Am I rushing things?”

“That’s not it,” I said reluctantly, wishing we could go back to how we had been only minutes earlier, when everything in the world had felt right and joyous.  But we couldn’t.  So I took a deep breath, preparing to come clean about my rather substantial weight loss and the scars it had left behind. 

It was better I tell Brandon about the awful way my body looked beneath my clothes than let him discover it for himself, right?  I couldn’t bear to imagine the look of disappointment he would politely try to conceal once he discovered my lumpy cottage cheese thighs and stretch mark covered abdomen.

“What is it then?” he pressed.  “You can tell me.  It’s okay.”

As soon as I opened my mouth to speak, I lost my nerve.  Brandon thought I was beautiful, and though I didn’t believe it myself, it felt amazing to have a guy look at me the way he did.  I wasn’t ready for that to stop – would any woman be?  So I made an excuse.

“I guess maybe it does feel like things are moving kind of fast,” I admitted, even though I desperately wanted to take things to the next level with him.  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to give you the wrong idea.”

“There’s no need to apologize,” he said with absolutely no trace of irritation in his voice.  “We can wait as long as you want.  Would it be okay if I held you again?  No wandering hands this time, promise.”

Smiling, I nodded and climbed back onto the bed.  Brandon did the same and wrapped his body around mine, spooning me.  His arms felt safe and strong as they embraced me, and the feeling of being held was amazing.  True to his word, he didn’t try to make another move on me.  He simply cradled me in his arms, his face resting against mine.

We were both fully clothed and all we were doing was cuddling.  There was nothing particularly sensual about it from an outsider’s perspective, and yet it was the most intimacy I had ever experienced with a man.  It was better than sex, way more fulfilling and satisfying.  It was bliss.

“Stay,” Brandon murmured, his hot breath tickling my ear as he whispered.  “I can’t stand the thought of you leaving.  I don’t want to be without you.  Don’t go.  We can figure it all out later, all the little details.  I will do whatever it takes to make you happy.  Just please Hayley, say you’ll stay with me.”

How could I pass up a request like that from a man like Brandon?

“I’ll stay,” I told him without hesitation, the words like music to my ears.  “I’ll stay with you.”

Chapter 11

“Carl please, just throw my stuff in a box and pack up the cat’s things for me,” I implored. 

It was mid-afternoon and the tour bus had rolled into its next stop.  Everyone was staying a hotel instead of on the bus, and I was on the phone in my room, pacing in agitation.  I’d finally forced myself to call Carl and the phone call wasn’t exactly going smoothly.  But I would have been foolish to expect otherwise.

He hadn’t taken the news that I was gone for good well at all.  I doubted his ego could handle it.

“I’m not doing it,” he insisted.  “If you want your shit, come and get it yourself.”

“Carl, I can’t do that.”

“Can’t or won’t?” he demanded. 

I sighed.  “It will only take you ten minutes to get my stuff together.  I will make arrangements for someone to pick everything up and drive it out to me.  It won’t cost you a thing – I’ll take care of it.”

“
You’ll
take care of it?” Carl scoffed.  “You don’t have any money, unless you’ve been whoring yourself out.  How are you going to pay for it?”

I could practically imagine him sneering as he sat in his living room recliner with his feet up and his belly hanging out underneath his shirt, empty beer cans littered on the floor all around him.  And I could almost see the way his nostrils were surely flaring as he grew more agitated by the minute.

“I asked you a question!” he roared, his voice so loud I actually jumped. 

“It’s none of your concern,” I told him, struggling to keep calm.  “Just know that I will take care of it and it won’t cost you a dime, promise.  So can you do that for me, please?  Ten minutes of your time is all I ask.”

“No.”

I sighed, feeling as though the conversation was simply going around in circles. 

“Are you screwing someone else?” Carl suddenly demanded.

“No,” I answered honestly.

“Then come back here where you belong.”

“I don’t want to be with you anymore, Carl.  We’re through, okay?  Please try to accept it.”

“I was good to you,” he told me angrily.  “I was damn good to you.  I took you in when you had nowhere else to go, when no one else wanted you.  I kept you around even when you were a big fat slob.  You don’t know how lucky you were – how lucky you
are
– to have me.  Now stop this nonsense and get your scrawny ass back here. I am willing to forgive and forget, but it’s a time limited offer.”

“Carl,” I told him for what felt like the millionth time, “I am not coming back.  We’re over.”

“Oh, I nearly forgot to tell you,” he said conversationally, his tone ice cold.

“Tell me what?”

“I can’t keep that stupid cat of yours anymore.”

“Well that’s fine,” I replied, confused.  “You don’t have to.  I already told you that.  Send him to me, problem solved.” Even as I said the words, a lump was forming in the back of my throat.  I wasn’t sure where this conversation was going but I already knew it wasn’t good.

“No.  I don’t think he can withstand the trip,” Carl said.

“What do you mean?  What’s wrong with him?  Is he sick?”

“Maybe,” he replied vaguely.  “He pissed all over the bed.”

“Oh,” I said, sighing in relief.  “That’s nothing.  He does that sometimes.  You know that.”

“A healthy cat doesn’t piss on the bed,” Carl informed me, even though we both knew the cat did it deliberately from time to time just to spite him.  “I think you triggered something when you left.  It wasn’t just me you abandoned, you know.  You also abandoned the cat.”

“I didn’t,” I protested.  Deep down I knew Carl was only trying to manipulate me and that Mittens was perfectly fine.  But even though intellectually I understood that, it didn’t make me feel any less guilty. 

“It isn’t right to let an animal to suffer,” Carl said in the sleaziest, most calculating voice I’d ever heard.  “I’m a merciful man.  Putting the cat out of its misery seems like the kindest thing to do, don’t you think?”

My eyes widened.  “Carl, you wouldn’t!” I gasped, my stomach suddenly lurching.

“I won’t if you can prove to me that the cat isn’t suffering,” he told me.  “I guess if you come back and it perks up, we’ll know.  Be here by tomorrow morning or else I will have no choice but to euthanize your cat.”

“No!”

“I have to go now Hayley, but it’s been
lovely
chatting with you.”

The next thing I knew, I was listening to a dial tone.  Carl had hung up on me.

My mouth open, I stared at the phone in horror.  My mind was racing a mile a minute. 

I honestly didn’t believe Carl would ever harm an animal – not even my cat that he hated oh so much.  But at the same time, his pride had been wounded and he was probably angrier than he had ever been in his entire life, which was really saying something.  I couldn’t risk being wrong. 

I had to go back.

Just then there was a knock at my hotel room door.

I opened it to find Brandon standing there, looking excited beyond belief.

“Slight change of plans!” he told me.  “We’ve gotten a once in a lifetime opportunity to play a benefit concert with – well, you probably won’t be familiar with them, but they’re our idols.  They’re basically legends in the heavy metal world and I’ve wanted to work with them for as long as I can remember.  We’ve had to reschedule a couple shows to make it work.  We leave tonight for New York City, so pack up your stuff.”

I just stood there, unable to move or even think.

Brandon looked at me.  He stopped dead in his tracks and his face fell.  “What is it?”

“It’s Carl,” I cried, anger, frustration and fear gushing out of me as though a dam had burst.  “He’s basically holding my cat hostage.  The only way I will get Mittens is if I go back and get him myself.  He gave me until tomorrow morning.”

Brandon’s eyes narrowed.  “That jerk is manipulating you,” he told me.

“I know!  Believe me, I know.  Honestly, I think Carl is all talk.  But I can’t risk it.  It’s my
cat
.”

“You’re not actually thinking of going back, are you?” Brandon demanded.

“I think I have to,” I told him regretfully, even though seeing Carl again was the last thing I wanted to do.  “I have to go get Mittens.  I can’t believe Carl is making this so difficult,” I raged in exasperation.  “Well, actually I can.”

“I’ll come with you,” Brandon immediately offered.

“And miss out on your once-in-a-lifetime show?”