Play Your Heart Out: A Rock Star Romance (Sinful Serenade Book 4) (17 page)

Ellie continues. "Spider-Man's power, slinging webs from his hands, is a metaphor for ejaculation."

I bite my lip. "What?"

Ophelia laughs. "Let's not scare the poor girl off any more than we have."

"No, I'm interested," I say.

"Most fiction aimed at men has phallic imagery—a man with a machine gun, spraying bullets. Or he's using this huge sword to destroy his enemies. All his power comes from his metaphorical penis." Ellie laughs. She turns to Pete. "He's quite virile, Spider-Man."

Again, Pete blushes. My heart melts. He looks adorable with his cheeks flushed.

I barely have time to consider how adorable he looks with his cheeks flushed. The door opens and a loud, excited voice booms through the room.

"We're here," Tom says. "You can finally enjoy yourselves."

He's dressed the same as Pete, only his button up shirt is white and his slacks are grey while Pete is in all black. It's strange seeing the rock star brothers dressed up like the nice boys next door.

Willow looks beautiful, as usual. Her pink tipped hair contrasts against her flowing ivory dress.

After a round of hellos, Tom turns to Willow and whispers something in her ear.

"Are you sure?" she asks.

"Go for it, kid," he says.

She turns to the table. "We set a date. In two weeks. In Maui. Everything is booked. It's going to be small, family and a few friends."

Tom slides his arm around her. Both of them are beaming.

"Wow, sweetheart, that's fast," Ophelia says. "Are you sure you don't want more time to plan?"

"Yeah. I don't want a big wedding. I don't want to fuss about the colors or the dress." She turns to Tom. "I just want to be with Tom forever."

It's sweet enough to make me sick. But the feeling of dread in my stomach isn't from the syrupy display. Tom and Willow are adorable and in love.

And honest.

They're practically transparent.

You're a liar, a big fat liar. They're sharing their happiness with you and you're a liar
. My thoughts scream at me. I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be sharing their happiness when I'm lying to their faces.

I bite my tongue and take a deep breath. My gaze goes to Pete. There's frustration in his brow. I know he's happy for them. I know he loves his brother.

So what is all that frustration doing in his brow?

He shakes it off, stands, and hugs them, one at a time.

Then everyone is hugging. Tom squeezes me. Then Willow. She hugs me so tightly I can barely breathe.

"I'm so glad you're here," she whispers." And that you and Pete are happy."

He addresses the table. "She's not pregnant."

Willow turns red. She barely manages to take a seat next to him. "Tom, they weren't thinking that." She studies expressions, one by one. "Okay, I guess I'd jump to that conclusion."

Ophelia laughs. "I'm surprised you two didn't fly to Vegas the night you got engaged."

"I pitched the idea," Tom says. "She wouldn't budge."

"We can't get married without you, Ophelia. Or Pete. Or Drew. Or Kara. Okay, I'm going to stop listing people in case I leave someone out." She takes a deep breath. "We checked flight prices. They're reasonable. The ceremony is on a Saturday and Monday is a holiday, so it will be a nice chance for everyone to get away."

"You have a dress, sweetheart?" Ophelia asks.

"I think so," Willow says. "I... uh... I'm asking Drew to be my maid of honor." She turns to Pete. "Will you be the best man?"

"Of course," he says.

Her face fills with relief. "Okay. Good. I know it's really sudden. We should have done it in Malibu. It would have been easier for everyone."

"Sweetheart, it's your wedding. Hopefully, the only one. You're allowed to have it in paradise," Ophelia says. "It will be perfect. I promise."

Willow smiles. She turns to me. "Of course, you have to come too, Jess. Will that be okay with school? Tom told me you're starting USC Law. I'm sure that's a lot of work. I understand if you can't get away."

"No, I'd love to be there." My stomach clenches. She's inviting me because she thinks I'm Pete's girlfriend, because she thinks I make him happy.

It's all based on a lie.

These people are accepting me openly and honestly and I'm lying to their faces.

I get lost in the conversation. Tom and Willow are taking two weeks off for their honeymoon. They're going to see half the Hawaiian Islands. Somehow, we get back to the topic of superheroes and their various powers. Ellie is something of an expert on phallic imagery. Ophelia teases her about the choice—it's, in Ophelia's words, a strange focus for a woman who prefers pussy.

Tom and Pete turn every shade of red every time their mother mentions the female anatomy. It's amazing to watch her make them fluster. She's funny, bold, in control of the conversation but giving at the same time.

She's amazing and real and I'm a liar.

***

I
drift in and out of conversation. The food is fresh and beautifully arranged—caprese salad, pasta primavera, flourless chocolate cake—but it barely makes an impression on my taste buds.

All through dinner, Pete tries to cover his frustration with a smile. He doesn't get quite there.

After dessert, we exchange long goodbyes. Ophelia whispers something about how glad she is that Pete is finally done fucking everything that moves. Apparently, he seems much happier with me.

Of course he does. That's the idea behind the lie. I should be on board with this. I know the drill. We keep up appearances so no one asks questions.

I'm good at keeping up appearances. So why do I feel like I'm going to throw up every bite of the rich chocolate cake?

I stay quiet on the drive to Tom and Willow's place. There are only three feet between me and Pete but it feels like a million miles.

I don't like it.

He pulls into a spot on the street, right between two equally expensive cars. This is where he belongs. Of course, three blocks from the beach isn't a bad place to belong.

His deep brown eyes focus on me but he says nothing. I'm tempted to make an excuse for my mood, to find a place to hide at the
OMG we're getting married in two weeks
party. The other guys in the band are due any moment. Then there are all sorts of friends and peers and people who should be focused on the bride and groom to be.

There are a million reasons to ignore the frustration in his eyes and the knot in my stomach.

But I can't do it.

"You're not supposed to lock me out," I say.

He stares back at me. "And what is it you were doing all through dinner?"

"Trying to play by the terms of our agreement. You?"

"I'm not gonna upstage my brother and his fiancée."

"Why are you miserable?" I ask.

"I'm not."

"You look like you got punched in the gut." I go to grab his wrist but he's too fast about pulling it to his lap. "I know you aren't jealous. You don't look at Willow like that."

"Don't look at anyone but you like that."

"You are upset. It's written all over your face."

His eyes go to the steering wheel.

"Because you're losing your best friend?" I ask. "That has to be hard, him moving on so quickly. He moved out a month ago, right?"

"Just about."

"How long did you live together?"

"Since I was twelve." He turns back to me. "You gonna talk to me?"

"I'm trying to do what you want, to play your sweet, demure girlfriend." My stomach clenches. "But I don't like lying to your family. They're honest and open and they clearly love you. Why won't you let them in, let them help you?"

"This is what I want."

"But—"

"Are you backing out?"

I take a deep breath. Words find my lips without passing through my brain. "Do you care about me?"

"What? That's not relevant."

"But do you?"

His brow furrows as he gets out of the car. I can't stay here. I get out and follow him to the sidewalk.

It's hard to make out the details of his expression in the dark, but his posture gives enough away.

"Do you?" I ask. "Tell me the truth. It won't break me if you say no." In theory.

"Are you backing out or not, Jess?"

"I'm not."

"Then let's go."

"But—"

"I'm not discussing this any more." He takes three steps forward then he turns back to me. "Are you coming or not?"

––––––––

T
om's place is right on the beach. It's an enviable house with a huge living room and a bigger upstairs. Everything about it is sleek and modern, even the wide glass windows. I can see the ocean from the couch. I can see the waves crashing into the beach, pounding the sand into even smaller particles.

Pete talks with Tom in the kitchen. They speak with hushed voices, serious looks on their faces. It's some kind of family secret. I'm not invited.

"How is everything with Pete?" Willow asks. "You looked a little frustrated at dinner."

I offer her my best smile. What can I say that isn't a total lie? "It's been difficult with the press paying attention to us."

"Oh. I'm sorry. It should pass quickly. A happy couple isn't the most exciting news."

"There was a reporter at my apartment a few days ago, so I've been staying with him."

"How do you like it? That house is nice. And it's so big for the two of you." Her voice wavers. "Empty."

"A little."

"I'm glad you're there. Sometimes I worry about Pete being alone in that house. I feel like I stole his best friend."

Do I lie to her or tell her she's right? I clear my throat. "Change is hard." I can't take any more of this conversion. "Excuse me. I'm waiting to hear back from my sister." I pull out my phone and pretend to answer a text.

Willow nods a goodbye. Finally, I'm alone. My thoughts sink in.

Pete doesn't care about me enough to say anything beyond
that's not relevant
. At least I know where things stand. I mean nothing to him. I'm a means to an end. He gave me plenty of chances to back out. He held up his side of the bargain. That means I need to hold up mine.

I press my eyelids together. If I focus on the prize, on getting through law school without crushing loans, maybe my stomach will finally settle.

The door swings open. Drew and Kara step inside. He looks totally casual in jeans and a t-shirt. She looks totally gorgeous in a clingy dress and fuck me heels.

Even though they're among friends, his grip around her waist is protective.

Thankfully, they go right to the kitchen, right to the conversation. I stay planted on the couch by myself until Meg and Miles arrive.

Tom calls everyone to attention and he announces the wedding date. There's gushing and hugging and laughter and another promise that Willow isn't pregnant.

Everyone is happy and honest and real.

I'm still a liar.

***

M
y residence as the woman of the couch is short lived. It only takes twenty minutes for the party to fill. There are two dozen people here and the room is loud with laughter and conversation.

Drew joins me on the couch with a nod hello. Tom takes the armchair kitty corner to us.

He looks at me. "I'm hogging your boyfriend."

"He was your brother first." I offer a weak smile. "He looks like he's having fun."

It's not quite a lie. Pete is talking to Willow and Kara in the kitchen. They're joking, laughing.

Miles walks up to us. "Jess, right?"

I nod and shake his hand. He plops on the couch next to me. I'm sandwiched between the dark haired guitarist and the blue-eyed singer. I should be in heaven.

But I feel like hell.

Miles leans towards Tom. "Come on. Admit you slipped one past the goalie."

Tom motions to Drew. "Do I look like I have a death wish?"

"Our secret." Miles winks.

Drew turns to me. "Miles likes to get a rise out of people. He thinks he can get me to hit Tom—"

"You've done it before," Miles says.

"I saw my life flash before my eyes." Tom laughs.

"You kissed his girl. What did you expect?" Miles asks.

"If she'd already been his girl, I wouldn't have had to kiss her." Tom turns to Drew. "Worked out, didn't it?"

Drew shrugs a whatever. "You're not gonna piss me off. My sister is happy. That means I'm happy. And I'm glad we're in a community property state where she'll get half your shit if she gets tired of your ass."

Tom laughs. "She can have all my shit if she gets tired of me. I don't want anything but her."

"Damn, when did you get soft, Sticks?" Miles asks.

"Please. You're way mushier with Meg when you're alone," Tom says.

"How do you know if they're alone?" Drew asks.

Tom cocks a brow. "Wish I didn't know. They were going at it all tour."

Drew laughs. "Was funny watching you get more and more pissed the worse your blue balls got."

"You were almost as moody as Guitar Prince," Miles teases.

Drew flips him off but he's smiling.

Tom turns to me. "How are you, Jess? Feel like we barely know each other."

"An enigmatic woman for an enigmatic man," Miles says. "You're going to law school, right?"

"Yes. USC." I offer a smile. Is there any way I can convince them to go back to bantering like I'm not here? I guess discussing law school is as neutral as it gets. "I'm good. Tired but good. I've been doing a lot of summer coursework and—"

"Fucking Pete every place in that giant house?" Miles offers.

My cheeks flush. They're trying, hard, to be friendly, but I can't escape the voice in my head screaming
you're a liar
.

The front door opens. There's a flash of bright blue. A balding man in an ugly suit. Aiden.

The temperature must drop by ten degrees. Drew, Miles, and Tom exchange frustrated looks.

Tom leans in to whisper to me. "You know what he and Pete have been talking about?"

Yes. I bite my lip.

"Who the fuck invited him?" Drew scowls. "Want me to tell him to get lost?"

"No. We need your hands for the studio," Tom says.